compliments.’
‘Surely you do not accuse me of insincerity?’ Sir Roger looked indignant and for a moment she saw anger in his eyes, which was quickly hidden behind a false smile. ‘I assure you, my feelings have always been completely sincere.’
Sarah refused to answer. It was impossible when he seemed determined to ignore her refusal. All she could do was to remain cool and indifferent, to hope that he would eventually tire of being rebuffed.
* * *
John was in the front parlour with the dancing master. They had taken a book of plays from the library and Monsieur Dupree was declaiming aloud from one of Shakespeare’s works as they entered, which made Sarah smile inwardly as the words sounded very different in a French accent.
‘I must give these roses to one of the maids to put in water,’ she said, excusing herself. ‘I shall return in a moment.’
She wished that she might take the time to arrange the flowers herself, but she could not leave Francesca to cope with the visitors alone and returned quickly, to find them all laughing and discussing the book of plays. Apparently, the gentlemen fancied themselves as actors and it seemed they were amusing Francesca by vying for her attention.
‘We should put on a play in the gardens,’ Francesca said. ‘We could all act out parts and entertain our neighbours.’
‘What a wonderful idea,’ James Monks said and sent her a look of foppish adoration. ‘You would be adorable as the fairy queen, Francesca.’
‘Are you reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream?’ Sarah asked. ‘It is one of my favourites—so amusing. I like it when she falls in love with Bottom...’
‘You must play the queen,’ Francesca urged. ‘I should not like to take the leading part, but will take on the role of one of her attendants.’
‘I shall be Bottom,’ Sir Roger said. ‘’Tis vastly amusing, I vow.’
‘No, no, I could not. Besides, the play is far too long and we should never learn all the words.’
‘We could play just the scene where Titania awakes to find herself bewitched,’ Francesca said. ‘I think it is so funny because she loves Bottom despite the fact that he has been turned into a donkey.’
‘Mais non, it is a tragedy,’ Monsieur Dupree objected. ‘The pauvre lady is bewitched as a punishment by her so-cruel husband.’
His words were greeted by heated exchanges and the next few minutes passed pleasantly enough, as all the aspects of the play were discussed and analysed. Sarah was pleased to see that Francesca held her own, having read the play with her, and relieved that by the time they had all been called to nuncheon and eaten their meal in a spirit of festivity, the idea of actually performing the play had been forgotten.
* * *
By the time the gentlemen took their leave, Sarah had relaxed sufficiently to forget to be on her guard and it was something of a shock when Sir Roger held her hand too long and then raised it to his lips.
‘I shall visit you again soon, Sarah.’
‘Francesca is always pleased to see her guests.’
The look he gave her was supposed to be ardent, but to Sarah it merely seemed menacing. Even if Monsieur Dupree liked her for herself, she was convinced that Sir Roger wanted something from her.
She shivered and wished that Lord Myers was here rather than on what might prove a wild goose chase. If Sir Roger wanted the mills, she believed that he might be willing to hire a rogue to either frighten her into signing or...might he actually want her dead?
If Sarah were dead, her uncle would sell to the highest bidder.
She was relieved when both gentlemen turned away and she returned to the house. About to go in search of Francesca, who had gone to look for a book she wanted, Sarah was surprised when Monsieur Dupree waylaid her in the hall.
‘A moment of your time, non?’
‘Was there something I can do for you, monsieur?’
‘It is I who may perhaps do something for you,
mademoiselle.’ The Frenchman’s dark eyes dwelled on her face with something like adoration. ‘I think you did not like the so-charming Sir Roger? He distresses you, non?’
‘I would not say I was distressed, monsieur—merely wary. I should not like to be left alone with that gentleman.’
‘No, of a certainty,’ he replied and made a face of disgust. ‘If the so-charming Sir Roger attempts to force his attentions on you, Mademoiselle Sarah, you may call on Andre Dupree. With the pistol I am—how you say?—a dead shot.’ He made a shooting motion. ‘I will kill him if he harms you.’
Sarah resisted the temptation to laugh, because, looking at his expression, she could see that he was in earnest.
‘You are very kind to offer your protection, monsieur—but I hardly think we need come to such measures. Sir Roger is a nuisance, but I think I am able to fend off his advances.’
‘If he harms you, he will answer to me.’ Andre took a step towards her, quite clearly intending to make his devotion to Sarah’s cause even plainer, but before he could speak the knocker sounded and in the next moment the footman had opened the door to Lord Myers.
‘You are back, my lord.’ Sarah turned to him, a smile of welcome on her lips. She felt relief surge within her and something more. How much she wished she could run to his arms and give him a welcome-home kiss.
‘Yes, Sarah, I have returned.’ Rupert’s brows arched. ‘Have I been missed?’
‘You must always be missed—’ Sarah would have said more, but at that moment John came flying into the hall and threw himself at Rupert, giving him an exuberant hug. ‘I saw you from the window. You’ve been gone such an age.’
‘Nine days, I think.’ Rupert laughed and disentangled himself. ‘Steady on, old chap. Surely things are not so bad?’
‘Oh, I’ve had loads of lessons and I like being with Fran, Sarah and Monsieur Dupree—but no one is like you. I’ve missed my fencing lessons.’
‘Well, you shall have one tomorrow,’ Rupert promised. ‘I might have a gift for you in my trunk—but if you continue to ruin my coat I shall consider whether to give it to you.’
‘You wouldn’t.’ John saw he was smiling and laughed, but stood back. ‘I’ll keep you to your word about the fencing.’ He turned to the dancing master. ‘Will you give me another French lesson, monsieur? It sounds so much better when you speak the language.’
‘Oui, mon petit,’ the Frenchman said. ‘Come, we shall go to the library and find a book of French plays.’
Rupert glanced at Sarah. ‘I see our dancing master has many talents. I think he has relieved me of some of my duties.’
‘But not all. John is willing to accept a substitute when you are not here, but of course we all miss you. Francesca was only asking this morning when you would return.’
