in him, he had treated her as he would any other lady, showing her politeness, but keeping a certain distance between them.
It was all she could expect, of course. Sarah suspected that her own heart was not untouched and she knew that her heart raced whenever he smiled down at her. However, he had given her no reason to think he might feel anything more for her than the natural concern of a gentleman for a woman in trouble.
Why did he guard his heart so well? Sarah wondered about the woman who had hurt him. She must be very lovely—and a lady, of course. Sarah was neither of those things. Why should he ever look at her?
He had thought of seduction, but he was a self-confessed rake and she could not think a light affair with a governess would have meant anything to him.
Her breath in her throat, she fought her own desire to rest her head against those broad shoulders.
‘Will you be gone long, sir?’
‘I’m not sure—at least a week, I imagine, possibly a little more.’
‘John will miss you—and Francesca.’
‘I think John has already found a good substitute in Monsieur Dupree.’
Sarah followed his gaze. ‘He has certainly been a great help today. Some dancing masters would consider games with the children beneath them, but Monsieur Dupree has proved his worth.’
‘Do you like him? Do you trust him?’
‘Yes, to both questions.’ Sarah glanced up questioningly. ‘Do you doubt him for any reason?’
‘None—except experience. When my sister was young her dancing master attempted to run off with her. She was foolishly infatuated with him and would have eloped had I not discovered his little plan. I paid him to disappear and he took the money.’
‘Your sister must have been in some distress?’
‘For a time, I believe, but she soon recovered once she became the toast of the town. She fell in love with a decent man and is very happy—so do not think me a monster for sending her would-be lover away.’
‘I think you may rest easy in your mind. Monsieur Dupree has shown no interest in seducing Francesca. In fact, he seems—’ She broke off and shook her head.
‘What were you about to say?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Please do not lie to me, Sarah. If you know something, tell me.’
‘I was about to say he has shown more inclination to flirt with me—but that sounds conceited.’
‘I trust you gave him no encouragement?’
‘No, of course not. Why on earth should I?’
‘He would not make you a suitable husband, Sarah. You must look higher than a dancing master, even if he is handsome.’
He sounded a little put out, which made her smile, but when she looked at him she saw no sign of jealousy, just annoyance.
She put her chin up at him. ‘I have no intention of it—and please do not lecture the poor man. He has merely been charming. I should not have mentioned it.’
He nodded, but his frown did not lessen. ‘You should think carefully before you make your choice. I know your preference is for a widower with a family. I have been giving the matter some thought and when I return I may be able to introduce you to certain gentlemen of merit. You would do well to choose wisely and not let yourself be charmed by a dancing master.’
‘Thank you.’ Sarah’s smile felt fixed. She was grateful for his help, of course she was—but how could she consider any candidate he might produce as a suitable husband when she was beginning to think... But she was being so foolish! Lord Myers was not for her. Even if his smile could make her pulses go wild, it was merely the foolishness of a lonely woman. Once she met other gentlemen she would soon discover that Lord Myers meant nothing to her.
‘Excuse me, I must see that the children all have enough to eat and drink. Shall we see you at dinner this evening, Lord Myers?’
‘Yes, of course.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘What have I said now, Sarah? I do not mean to dictate to you—but you did say that you needed help with your problems?’
‘Yes, I do and I’m grateful. You have said nothing to upset me, sir—nothing at all.’
It was her fault for allowing her imagination to provide her with pictures of the kind of marriage she would most enjoy—because his was unaccountably the face she saw every time she considered the idea.
* * *
Dressing that evening, Rupert frowned at himself in the mirror. Why had he made the offer to find a suitable husband for Sarah? Had his pride been hurt because she seemed to favour the dancing master? It was really none of his business whom she chose to marry for she could never mean anything to him—or could she?
Rupert pondered the thought. He had considered himself uninterested in marriage, knowing that he must marry one day for the purpose of getting an heir, but he’d deliberately shut the idea from his mind. The right woman would present herself to his notice one day in the future and then... But perhaps he need look no further. Sarah had aroused feelings of hot lust in him and something more. If he wanted a wife to be a companion in his advancing years and to give him a family, why not her as well as any other?
He frowned at himself in the mirror. No, it was impossible. Sarah deserved more than he could give her. She ought to have love and the kind of happiness that comes from such a marriage—and yet she was considering a marriage of convenience.
He’d promised to help her find a husband and he must keep his word, bring some of his friends down so that she could meet them and perhaps find a man she wished to marry. A part of him persisted in thinking that it might suit him to marry her, but there was still a barrier in his mind—still a part of him that was wary of taking the irrevocable step of asking any woman to be his wife.
* * *
A handful of their neighbours had stayed to dine that evening. Lady Rowton was one, Squire Browning, his wife and Mr Honiton and his sister, also the Reverend Hoskins. Sarah found herself placed between the vicar and the squire, who was a little hard of hearing and tended to boom at her.
Sarah had answered all the questions directed at her, but was conscious of watching Rupert for much of the evening. He had been the perfect host, keeping everyone amused and making sure that it all went smoothly. She had noticed that he paid attention to all the ladies, but particularly to Lady Rowton. The lady was more than thirty, but still youthful in her looks and attractive, her smile warm whenever she had replied to something Rupert said to her.
‘Did you notice Rupert flirting with Lady Rowton?’ Francesca whispered as they went into the drawing room later. ‘I think they had an affair a year or two ago. It was just after her husband died—and I heard Grandfather telling someone that Lord Myers was consoling her.’
‘You mustn’t repeat overheard gossip, dearest,’ Sarah said.
‘Very well.’ Francesca’s eyes sparkled. ‘Then I shan’t tell you what Monsieur Dupree said about you.’
‘Please do not, and do not tease,’
