carriage drew up in front of the main door and Guy jumped down to help her descend.
‘Welcome back,’ he said, and for a moment it seemed that he had invested the words with a greater significance.
Sarah shrugged the thought aside. It was too dangerous for her to start to feel at home in her childhood haunts, for in a week’s time—two at the most—she would have to return to Bath and the life she was accustomed to. Time spent at Blanchland and Woodallan could only be a passing phase, but when she had planned her journey she had not spared a thought for the way in which old memories would be stirred up. She looked at Guy, who was looking up at the house with a half-smile on his lips.
‘It must be a great pleasure for you to be home again, my lord, after so long abroad,’ she said spontaneously, and he smiled down at her, and for a split second Sarah was happy.
‘Oh, it is, Miss Sheridan, for here I have all the things I most care for.’
Again, Sarah tried not to read too much significance into his words. She turned aside and followed Amelia and Greville up the steps, reminding herself that she was vulnerable to him and must be always on her guard.
The Countess of Woodallan was in the hall to welcome her son home, and, as word of Guy’s arrival spread, it seemed that the house was full of beaming servants all wishing to greet him. Sarah and the others hung back until the crush had lessened a little, when the Countess turned and caught sight of her.
‘Sarah! Good gracious, what a wonderful surprise! Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner, my dear!’ She enveloped Sarah in a warm hug. ‘And Greville! Guy…’ she swung round accusingly on her son ‘…you should have told us you were bringing a party!’
Guy, who had been conversing quietly with his father’s steward, came forward. ‘I’m sorry for giving you no warning, Mama, but it was a spur-of-the-minute decision. Miss Sheridan and her cousin are travelling on in the morning, but I persuaded them to break their journey here tonight.’
The Countess swallowed her disappointment well. ‘I am sorry to hear you will be leaving so soon. But perhaps—’ she smiled at Sarah ‘—you will consider visiting us again on your journey back? You could stay for Christmas! That would be most pleasant, for we have so much news to catch up on!’
Sarah smiled a little stiffly. In the warmth of her welcome she had almost forgotten the reason for her visit, and the fact that she would be travelling on to Blanchland almost immediately. The Countess, suddenly aware of an air of constraint about her guests, turned her warm smile on Amelia. Greville stepped forward to make the introductions.
‘Lady Woodallan, may I present my fiancée, Lady Amelia Fenton. Lady Amelia is Miss Sheridan’s cousin.’
‘I am not!’ Amelia said hotly, then catching the look of amazement on her hostess’ face, stammered, ‘That is, I am Sarah’s cousin, but I am not Sir Greville’s fiancée!’
There was an awkward silence.
‘I am afraid that Lady Amelia has not quite become accustomed to the idea yet, ma’am,’ Greville said easily, ignoring Amelia’s fearsome glare. ‘I must apologise for imposing on your hospitality like this, particularly when you must be wishing to have Guy to yourselves!’
‘You are very welcome for as long as you wish to stay,’ the Countess murmured, trying not to stare at Amelia as though she had a lunatic in the house. ‘But you look as though you were caught in the storm, my dears! I will show you to your rooms so that you may change, and send word to Cook to increase the covers for dinner. Guy, your father should have returned by then. He has driven over to Home Farm to talk to Benton about the milk yield, but I expect him back at any time!’
‘Before you carry Miss Sheridan away, Mama, I should like to speak with her in private,’ Guy said firmly. ‘There is a matter to be settled between us that cannot wait.’
Sarah blushed scarlet and the Countess frowned. ‘But, Guy, Miss Sheridan will be tired from her journey, and is drenched by the rain besides! Surely it can wait a little—’
‘Oh, yes, indeed, ma’am,’ Sarah added hurriedly, ‘there is no urgency!’
‘I am desolate to contradict you, Miss Sheridan,’ Guy said smoothly, ‘but it is imperative that we speak now. I do not wish there to be any further misunderstandings!’
‘It seems to me that we have two ardent suitors here and two reluctant ladies!’ a voice said, from behind them, and Sarah swung round to see her godfather in the doorway.
The Earl of Woodallan was leaning heavily on his stout ash stick and looked a lot older than Sarah remembered, but the expressive dark eyes, so like his son’s, were as sharp as ever. ‘Lady Amelia…’ he gave as courtly a bow as ever his son could achieve ‘…and Sarah, my dear! What a delightful surprise! And Sir Greville, too! Well, Guy—’ he turned to his son, the sardonic gleam in his eye belied by a smile ‘—good to see you back again, boy!’
‘Sir!’ Guy hurried forward to shake his father’s hand, and Sarah took advantage of the moment to step back, throwing her godmother a pleading glance.
‘If we could be permitted to change our clothes, ma’am—’
‘Of course, my love.’ The Countess swept up her goddaughter and Amelia, and shepherded them towards the stairs. ‘Come along with me! The gentlemen are quite preoccupied and will not notice—’
The Earl’s voice stayed them as they reached the half-landing.
‘Charlotte, be sure to deliver Miss Sheridan to the blue drawing-room just as soon as she is ready! Guy will be waiting for her!’
‘Like father, like son,’ the Countess murmured under her breath. ‘I fear that an autocratic nature is in the Woodallan blood!’
It was three-quarters of an hour later that Sarah descended the stairs again. She was clean and dry, dressed in a becoming russet gown belonging to the younger of Lady Woodallan’s daughters and with her hair neatly braided into a bun on the top of her head.
‘Too austere, Miss Sheridan,’ was Guy’s comment as he ushered her into the blue drawing-room. ‘You are too soft and sweet to pretend to such severity!’
He, too, had changed into clean buckskins, polished boots and an olive green jacket that fitted his broad shoulders to perfection. Sarah, experiencing a traitorous rush of feeling on seeing him, immediately went on the attack.
‘By what right do you criticise my appearance, sir? Kindly refrain from becoming too personal!’
Guy grinned, unabashed, and gestured her to a chair before the fire. ‘That was precisely the matter I wished to discuss with you, Miss Sheridan—Sarah. May I call you Sarah?’
‘I am surprised you trouble to ask, sir!’ Sarah said hotly. ‘No, you may not!’
‘Very well then, Miss Sheridan, I will not provoke you!’ Guy sat down opposite her. Sarah, who was feeling quite on edge, resented his assumption of ease. ‘I am grateful to you for granting me a hearing. I feared you would not. My behaviour in Bath—’ He stopped, and started again. ‘After the things I said, I could not blame you if you choose to deny me the chance to apologise.’
‘I have
