not know the truth of the matter.’
‘If he did not truly marry her, he tricked her into being his mistress.’
‘Francesca.’ Lord Myers glared at Sarah. ‘This is not the right subject for the dinner table. Please refrain from discussing this in mixed company. You may speak to Miss Goodrum in private on the matter if you wish.’
Francesca blushed and Sarah threw Lord Myers an angry glance. He was taking a moral stance that was hardly necessary. Such things were often discussed openly in society, though rarely in mixed company and not before children or innocent girls. He was perhaps thinking of John, for he had decided to mentor him on matters of morality. Now Sarah saw her own fault in being too easy with Francesca and looked down at her plate.
As Francesca would have protested, she reached out to touch her hand. ‘Later, my dear. Lord Myers is right on this occasion.’
He threw a speaking glance at her across the table. Francesca saw it and subsided into silence. She did not speak again until John was sent to bed and they were alone in the drawing room, waiting for Lord Myers to join them.
‘Are you in trouble with Uncle Rupert because of what you told me about love this morning?’
‘Perhaps I should have been more wary—waited to explain until we were alone. John is young and impressionable after all.’
‘Nonsense! He knows far more than I do. We talked about everything when we were alone, but there were things he wouldn’t say. He said it wasn’t fit for a girl’s ears.’
‘Lord Myers is afraid he may have heard things in the stable that may give him the wrong idea about such things. We are to have our lessons alone in future.’
‘That’s so unfair of him. It wasn’t your fault. You are the only person who has ever treated me as a woman—the only one to tell either of us the truth.’
‘A conventional governess would not have done so. She might have given you some information in private—and perhaps it is what I should have done. Well, it is not my decision to bar John from our lessons, but I am sorry if it upsets you. I believe in speaking my mind—but it is not always wise to do so in company, especially at the dinner table.’
‘No, I see that—but it was just us, family...’ Francesca stared at her. ‘Are you crying?’
‘No, of course not.’ Sarah blinked away the wetness that had unaccountably come to her eyes. ‘Do you truly think of me as your family?’
‘You’re the sister I never had.’ Francesca smiled at her. ‘She would have told me the things I needed to know—especially when she was married. It’s silly the way they hide things from unmarried girls, isn’t it? How can we make a sensible choice for a husband if we don’t understand what it means to be married?’
‘Oh, my dear,’ Sarah said and was suddenly amused. ‘You are supposed to enjoy your Season and have fun—and you would normally ask your mama what she felt about the gentleman you liked. She would give you her advice.’
‘Will you be my chaperon when we go to London? Please, Sarah. I would rather it was you than someone I didn’t know.’
‘You hardly know me—though I feel as if I’ve known you always. I doubt if I would be thought suitable. You need someone of more consequence. Besides, I shall have to leave you before then.’
‘You won’t let Uncle Rupert drive you away?’
‘You mustn’t take against him because he corrected you at table, Francesca.’
‘I shall hate him if he sends you away. I’m going to tell Grandfather that I want you as my chaperon when he comes down at Christmas.’
‘We’ll think about that later,’ Sarah said, her throat tight with emotion. Francesca was becoming so special to her and the idea of being her chaperon appealed, but of course it was not possible. Sarah could not enter society as Miss Goodrum and, as Miss Hardcastle, she would not be acceptable to the girl’s guardians. ‘We have lots of time before then. I must teach you so many things—and the first is to think before you speak. Whatever we may discuss in private, and whatever your opinion of a situation or fact, it is sometimes better not to repeat it to others, especially in company.’
‘Oh, you do not need to tell me. I was so mortified I could have died.’ Francesca turned to her and hugged her. ‘You mustn’t be hurt, Sarah. If Rupert is mean to you, I’ll tell John to put something horrid in his bed.’
Sarah laughed. ‘Now that you must never do, dearest. Besides, it might result in the cane for John and you would not want that. Lord Myers takes his duty seriously and I think you must both respect his wishes.’
‘I was looking at those books you gave me. Is that what really happens? It looks awful. I can’t see why anyone would want to do anything like that...’
‘I think that feelings come into it,’ Sarah said with a smile, but then the door opened and she shook her head. ‘You might wish to go up now, dearest, and I shall follow.’
Francesca nodded. She approached Lord Myers and bobbed a curtsy. ‘Goodnight, sir. I am sorry if I offended you earlier.’
‘Good grief, child. I was not offended, but your reputation might suffer in company. I wanted you to be aware.’
‘Yes, Uncle Rupert. Sarah has explained that I may ask her anything in private, but not speak so openly in front of others.’
‘Good. Run along now. I wish to speak to Miss Goodrum.’
Francesca threw a speaking look at Sarah and went out.
‘Miss Goodrum—’ Lord Myers stood looking at her uncertainly. ‘Will you honour me with a game of chess this evening? You do play chess, I hope?’
‘Yes, my lord. My father taught me. I played often with him.’
‘I thought that might be the case. Will you oblige me?’
‘If you wish.’
‘I do wish. I also want to apologise for my display of bad manners earlier. I did not intend to squash the child—and I thank you for putting things right.’
‘It was a misunderstanding all round, my lord. I do not think it will happen again.’
‘I suppose I cannot prevail on you to call me Rupert in private?’
Sarah hesitated, then, ‘I hardly think it wise, sir. If I could add uncle I would do so, as the others do, but I cannot—and so I feel that it would not be right.’
‘Make it sir, then. I cannot stand to be my lorded all the time. I would even prefer Captain Myers, as I was known in my army days.’
‘Yes, sir. You were in the army?’ Sarah asked politely, as she set out the beautiful ivory-and-ebony chessboard with delicate carved figures. ‘I thought perhaps you might have been. My father always said it was easy to tell a military man by his bearing.’
‘Indeed? I think I should have liked to know your father, Sarah.’
‘Yes, you might.
