A Worthy Gentleman. Anne Herries
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‘Thank you, dearest Belle,’ Sarah said and laughed. ‘I dare say Mama is right. I ought to marry one day, but I do not want to marry anyone I cannot love.’ She sighed and a wistful look came to her pretty face. ‘Oh, I don’t know…’ It was foolish to look back. She had to move on, to leave the nightmare of the past behind.
Arabella kept her thoughts to herself. She had not forgotten that time before Sarah left for Italy. She had sensed there was something special between the girl and John Elworthy. In fact, she had been quite shocked when John married so soon afterwards. She had gone to his wedding, thinking that the slight, pale girl he had taken for his bride was not the equal of Sarah in either looks or intelligence. She had seemed desperately shy of all her husband’s friends, even nervous. Arabella had wondered why John had married the girl, because she had sensed that he was not in love with her. Oh, he had been gentle and kind, constantly attentive to her—but it was the kindness that a man might show to his young sister rather than the woman he loved.
Arabella felt a little guilty that she had not told Sarah that John was also to be one of their guests. Equally, John had no idea that Sarah and Mrs Hunter were staying. She was hoping that the shock of seeing one another without warning might start spark off some reaction, making them realise that the feelings they had had for each other more than two years ago were still there.
‘I am looking forward to seeing Lady Tate and Tilda when we go up to London,’ Mrs Hunter said as she sat in the front parlour with her daughter-in-law some days later. ‘How is dear Hester? She left us as soon as she heard you were with child, because she wanted to be of use to you in your confinement. And of course Tilda accompanied her home. I understand she is living with your aunt now. That attack of smallpox laid her very low and she thought she would rather be in England. Sarah and I missed them—though of course we had already made so many friends in Italy that we were never alone. Did Sarah tell you how sorry the Conte was to see us leave?’
‘Yes, she did mention it. Tilda divides her time between Aunt Hester and us these days, which suits us all,’ Arabella said. She had heard of the Conte di Ceasares several times from Mrs Hunter, and knew that her mother-in-law was suffering from frustration at Sarah’s apparent lack of interest in finding a suitable husband. She smiled at her mother-in-law and showed her the exquisite smocking she was working on a gown for the new baby. ‘How was it that Sarah nursed Tilda when she was ill? I am surprised that you allowed it, Mama.’
‘Sarah seems to be immune to the disease,’ her mother said. ‘Some friends of ours had it years ago. Sarah had been playing with their children, but she did not take it from them. Nor did she seem affected in Italy. She nursed Tilda, as you know—but did she tell you that she insisted on caring for the children of one of our friends there?’ Arabella shook her head. ‘They had gone down with it too and Sarah suspected that their nurse was not looking after them as she should. She took over the nursery and happily both recovered. I think it was that act of courage that made the Conte fall in love with her. He said that she was as brave as she was lovely and gave her a beautiful gold brooch to thank her.’
‘Yes, she is brave. I have always thought so.’
‘Brave, but very stubborn,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘I am sure she might have married him if she had given him the least encouragement. One would think that she did not wish to be married—but I know that she adores children. The children in Italy were always hanging round her neck, especially the street urchins. She gave them coins whenever we visited the markets.’
‘Where is Sarah this morning?’
‘Oh, she went for a walk as far as the lake,’ Mrs Hunter said, frowning slightly. ‘In Italy she walked a great deal. I think she is determined that she will not be influenced by what happened before…’
‘Yes, that is very sensible of her,’ Arabella said and sighed, easing her back, which had begun to ache. ‘I wanted to tell her that the latest monthly journals arrived earlier. I believe there are some fashion plates that might be of use to her when she is planning her new wardrobe.’
‘Oh, I am sure she will be pleased to see them,’ Mrs Hunter said, looking at her anxiously. ‘Are you quite well, my dear? You look a little strained.’
‘I have a backache,’ Arabella said. ‘I do not regard it, Mama. It will pass in time. Indeed, I think I shall take a little stroll in the gardens to ease it. I might meet Sarah as she returns from her walk.’
‘Oh, I wonder if you ought to go so far?’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘You must take care of yourself, Arabella. It is so easy to miscarry a child. I lost two and it was a great sadness to me.’
‘I shall not overdo things,’ Arabella replied and gave her a patient smile. Her mother-in-law did tend to fuss a little too much, which could be irritating if one allowed it to be. However, she had decided that she would take it as well-meaning concern, and would not allow there to be friction between them. ‘Please do not worry, Mama. I am quite well.’
She got up and left the room, glad to escape into the fresh air of the garden for a while. It was quite warm that morning, the chill air of the past weeks seeming to have gone for the moment. However, her intention to walk as far as the lake to meet Sarah was curtailed as she saw a carriage arrive and knew that it was her guests.
She went to greet Elizabeth as one of the grooms handed her down. They kissed and greeted each other with pleasure, the earl waiting until they had finished before taking his turn.
‘It is so good to have you here,’ Arabella said, linking arms with Elizabeth as they moved towards the house. ‘But is John not with you? I thought you might all travel together?’
‘John drove himself,’ Daniel Cavendish told her. ‘He cannot be far behind us, though he intended to stop at the blacksmith in the village to have one of his horse’s shoes looked at. He thought it might be coming loose.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Arabella said. ‘Well, come in, my dear friends. Charles had some business this morning, but he will be back at any moment. Mrs Hunter is sitting with me in the parlour, and Sarah has gone for a walk. I dare say she will be back quite soon.’
Sarah stood watching the swans gliding effortlessly on the lake. They had kept to the far side and she had not been able to entice them nearer because they were fiercely guarding their very small cygnets. However, she had collected a crowd of rather noisy ducks about her, and she laughed as they squabbled over the last scraps of bread she had begged from the kitchens.
It was peaceful here and the scenery was beautiful, less wild than the rugged country she had been used to in the past couple of years. The hills of Tuscany had their own charm, and the gardens of the villas owned by Conte di Ceasares were very beautiful. Just before Sarah had left Italy, the villa garden had been a riot of colour, flowers spilling over from large terracotta pots, and the overpowering scent of their blooms heavy in the air. She thought that she would miss Italy and the people she had counted as friends.
She ought to be returning to the house. She had made her escape earlier because she was aware of her mama’s silent disapproval. Mrs Hunter had been cross with her daughter because she believed that she had discouraged the Conte di Ceasares from making her an offer—she would be very annoyed indeed if she knew that Sarah had twice refused him. Sighing, Sarah turned away from the lake and began to walk slowly across the grass. She had liked the Conte very well, and perhaps she ought to have obliged her mama…
Walking with her head down, lost in thought, Sarah was not immediately aware