Lady Sarah's Sinful Desires Read online

  Christopher leaned forward, equally amazed. In the distance, nestled against a soft swell of hills, stood a manor . . . no . . . a palace, more splendid than any he’d ever seen. Hell, it put Carleton House to shame with its regiment of marble columns standing sentry before each wing, the central part of the building paying tribute to a Greek temple.

  “It makes Oakland Park look like a hovel,” Fiona remarked.

  Christopher blinked. To his amazement, he found he could not disagree. Thorncliff was indeed a sight to behold, its magnificent size a true temptation that made him eager to explore. “I’ve read that the original structure was built upon the ruins of a Roman settlement during the twelfth century.”

  “Truly?” Fiona asked, her voice filled with excitement.

  Christopher nodded as his gaze swept the length of the impressive building. “There’s even supposed to be a vast network of tunnels running beneath it.”

  His interest in Thorncliff wasn’t a new one. Intrigued by castles since he’d been a young lad, he’d read about the great estate on numerous occasions, and since his parents had announced that the Heartly family would spend the entire summer away from home, he’d looked forward to the prospect with great anticipation. There was also the advantage that here, it appeared, he stood a reasonable chance of avoiding his mother and the potential brides she no doubt longed to press upon him. Smiling, Christopher sat back against the squabs. Salvation was finally within reach.

  In another carriage on the way to Thorncliff Manor

  Seated between her younger stepsisters, Alice and Juliet, Sarah made a stoic attempt to ignore the disapproving look that sat upon her stepmother’s face. Her father was more tolerable, since he’d been reading his newspaper the entire journey and had paid little attention to the rest of the family.

  “Is there something you wish to say, Mama?” Sarah eventually asked, unable to stop herself from uttering the question for one moment longer.

  Lady Andover’s gaze narrowed, but just as Sarah had suspected, she merely responded with, “Not at the moment.”

  Speaking of Sarah’s sins in front of her young, impressionable sisters was taboo. Later, however, once the girls were out of earshot, Sarah had no doubt that her stepmother’s tongue would give her a sound thrashing. After all, it was what Sarah had come to expect after proving herself a disappointment to the Argisle name.

  “Would you look at that!” Alice suddenly gasped, supplying Sarah with a much-­needed distraction. Leaning forward while Juliet tried to press past her in an attempt to look out the window as well, Sarah just managed to catch a glimpse of the largest building she’d ever seen when her stepmother said, “Do sit back, Sarah. Your sister can’t see when you’re in the way.”

  Sarah did as she was told, fully aware that her stepmother had just used Alice and Juliet to her own advantage, for there was a smug smile upon her face as if to say, I know you do not wish to cause a scandal in their presence.

  Biting back a scathing remark, Sarah remained silent and unmoving while her sisters’ excitement filled the carriage. Instead, she reached inside her reticule and stroked the little fur ball within, taking comfort in its heat while she wondered what her stepmother would say if she were to discover that Sarah had brought her pet hamster along with her. Lady Andover would probably find a way to punish Sarah for it, which was all the more reason for Sarah to keep her pet well hidden.

  “We’re finally here,” Alice exclaimed as the carriage tumbled into a paved courtyard and came to a swaying halt. “Just look at that doorway! It must be twice as wide as the one we have at home.”

  “And beautifully carved too,” Juliet said as she strained to look past her sister. “Oh, I can’t wait to get inside.”

  Sarah couldn’t help but agree as she stared out at the looming façade, the weather-­worn stones suggesting that this great building had borne witness to many things through the ages. It had history.

  “Calm yourselves, dears,” Lady Andover said. “You may be on holiday, but you are still expected to conduct yourselves properly.” She looked directly at Sarah, a warning in her sharp eyes. “There will be no running about. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mama,” Alice and Juliet spoke in unison, their voices filled with disappointment. A footman opened the carriage door and gracefully offered his hand to Lady Andover. She alit, followed by Alice and Juliet. Sarah made to follow them, but she was stopped by her father’s staying hand upon her arm. “You will not disrespect your stepmother,” he told her softly but sternly. “After all that you have done—­the disgrace you have put us through—­you have no right. No right at all. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly, my lord.”

  With a curt nod, he released her, allowing her to flee the stifling interior of the carriage even if she could never escape her shame. A tight knot twisted inside her chest as she watched her sisters climb the steps of Thorncliff. Please don’t make the same mistake I did, she prayed as she started after them, unbearably aware of her father’s stubborn presence at her side. “There’s a purpose to this visit,” he muttered. “I trust you will remember that.”

  Looking up into his stalwart gaze, Sarah nodded. How could she possibly forget?

  “Good,” her father said as they stepped over the threshold into a massive hall with polished marble floors. At the center, a large wind rose was inlaid in black and gray tones. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

  Sarah would never know if he said anything further, for her entire focus was riveted upon the marble archways that flanked the sides, the niches that stood above them, filled with poised statues and crowned by towering windows through which golden rays of sunlight cast their glow. Above these, the ceiling curved toward an enormous painting depicting a fray of soldiers, angels and leaping horses.

  “Come along, Sarah,” her stepmother hissed, the words undoubtedly louder than intended as they rose through the air and bounced off the walls, filling the vast space with bitterness. “Don’t stand there dawdling. We’re being shown to our rooms now.”

  On a heavy sigh, Sarah followed her family as they were led to a long corridor by a maid. Though the ceiling here was not as high as in the hall, it was still high enough to make Sarah wonder which poor servant was given the task of dusting for cobwebs all the way up there, if Thorncliff even had a ladder long enough for such a task, or if they just left the spiders alone in the hope that no one would see them. As they walked, Sarah also noted that footmen had been placed at every corner, their expressions impassive as they stared straight ahead, protecting the virtues of young ladies by bearing witness to potential mischief. Or perhaps they served to protect Lady Duncaster’s valuables from Thorncliff’s many visitors, Sarah mused.

  They soon arrived in another hall, this one smaller than the first. A splendid staircase monopolized the space as it rose up, splitting halfway before continuing left and right. Bronze statues of women reaching toward the ceiling, each with a candelabrum in her hand, stood on either side of the base, while tall lanterns reminiscent of the streetlights Sarah had seen in London stood at the very top.

  “I daresay I’ll lose myself in this place,” Alice murmured as she looked up at the ceiling, almost tripping on the steps in the process.

  “If you do, I’m sure a maid or a footman will direct you to your room, though I doubt it will even be an issue, since you and Juliet will be in either my own or Hester’s company,” Lady Andover said, referring to the lady’s maid the three sisters would be sharing.

  Sarah didn’t need to look at her sisters to know they would both be scrunching their noses at such a prospect, for as kind as Hester was, she’d gotten on in years and lacked the energy Alice and Juliet craved. “We would so much rather have Sarah for our chaperone,” Juliet said. “Oh please, Mama, can’t we spend our days with her instead? You won’t wish to run through a maze with us anyway, and Hester prefers to sit in the s
hade all day.”

  “Which is very correct of her,” Lady Andover said. “Young ladies should stay out of the sun and off their feet as much as possible. They certainly shouldn’t be running around like savages. Besides, Sarah will be quite busy during her stay here. She’s going to make the acquaintance of Mr. Denison and will no doubt be quite occupied by his company. Isn’t that so, Sarah?”

  “Quite so,” Sarah said, dreading the meeting her father had arranged for her.

  “So you see,” Lady Andover continued, her breath coming in short bursts as they reached the top of the stairs, “Hester and I will have to do.”

  “As you requested in your letter, my lady,” the maid said as they followed her down a long corridor lined with burgundy runners, “you’ve been placed conveniently close to each other. The rooms are also quite spacious, so hopefully you will all be very comfortable.” Halting in front of a door carved in rich tones of auburn-­colored wood, the maid pressed down on the handle until the door swung open. “For the young ladies,” she said before crossing to the door opposite and doing the same. “My lord and lady. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ring the bellpull.”

  “Thank you,” Lord Andover said as he popped his head through the doorway and peered inside the room. “I think this will do very nicely.”

  Bobbing a curtsy, the maid took her leave while Alice and Juliet escaped inside their room. “I’m sure Hester will be up as soon as she’s ensured that the footmen have our luggage under control. In the meantime, Sarah, please see to it that your sisters get some rest,” Lady Andover said, her countenance stiff as always. “The journey has been a trying one.”

  “I will do my best,” Sarah promised.

  Offering a curt nod, her stepmother said nothing further as she turned her back on Sarah and followed her husband into their bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaving Sarah alone in the corridor. She took a breath, trying to relax and ignore the way her insides shuddered in response to her stepmother’s resentment. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” she heard Alice remark.

  Entering her room, Sarah had to confess that she certainly had not, for as it turned out, they were to share an entire suite of rooms with a comfortable sitting area in the center.

  “Never,” Juliet replied, echoing Sarah’s thoughts.

  Ignoring her sisters, Sarah walked across to the window and peered out at the vast lawns, the intricate flower gardens, the maze in the distance and the massive lake upon which, if her eyes did not deceive her, was a sailing ship—­a frigate, to be exact. No doubt Thorncliff surpassed every ancestral home she’d ever visited. Nothing compared. Perhaps that was the point of the Thorncliff estate.

  Sarah resisted the urge to explore Thorncliff for an hour—­longer than she’d ever thought possible. Then, with the intention of taking a look around, she left her slumbering sisters to Hester’s watchful eyes.

  After descending the stairs, she wandered down a corridor and soon discovered that Thorncliff was filled with guests and servants to the point of overflowing. Her first impression upon visiting a salon wrapped in Chinese décor, where some ladies were having tea, was that she’d probably be unlikely to discover a private space she could claim as her own. This suspicion grew when, after passing a series of other rooms, she found each one to be occupied by somebody else. Though she did recognize a few faces and made sure to offer polite greetings, she had no desire to engage in conversation with anyone, fearing it would only result in unpleasant prying.

  Eventually, Sarah decided to head out into the garden in search of a secluded corner where she and Snowball would be able to enjoy each other’s company. The poor little creature had spent the better part of the day confined to her reticule and was surely growing restless. But, before arriving at the French doors that would take her outside, Sarah came upon another door that piqued her interest. It was made almost entirely of glass, and beyond it, she could see nothing but greenery—­trees, bushes and ferns mostly, all planted on either side of a tiled path that wound its way between them before disappearing from view.

  Reaching out, Sarah pressed down on the handle until the door swung open. A humid heat blending with the smell of wet soil greeted her, and she stepped quickly inside, closing the door behind her with care. Silence, and the relief that came with solitude, washed over her as she reached inside her reticule and retrieved her furry companion. Snowball squeaked, wriggling between Sarah’s fingers as she stroked him gently across his back. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you’d love nothing better than to scamper about between these plants, but if I set you down, I’ll never find you again.” Stepping forward, she started along the path while her gaze leapt from one massive glass window to the next.

  Andover Abby didn’t have a conservatory, and Sarah had always wanted to visit a house that did. She just hadn’t imagined finding one of such incredible size. Why, it had to be at least one hundred yards long, and the width . . . perhaps twenty or thirty? Thinking herself alone and lost in her attempt to calculate an accurate square footage, Sarah instinctively leapt at the sound of a very loud grunt, startled by it to such a degree that she let go of Snowball, who tumbled to the ground and, as one might expect from a curious hamster, chose not to sit and wait for Sarah to pick him up again but raced off along the path as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. Forgetting the sound she’d just heard, Sarah hurried after him, desperate to catch him before she lost him forever in the small jungle.

  “Snowball?” Sarah hissed, as if the creature would actually come walking back to her when summoned. Pushing past some wide leaves, she finally spotted the little fellow, sitting quite happily on the edge of the pathway. Heart pounding in her chest, Sarah dropped to a crouch and eased her way forward, desperate to prevent him from leaping off between the bushes. Good heavens, she’d never find him then! With measured breaths, Sarah moved with the silence of a wraith—­at least to her own way of thinking—­and as tedious and strenuous as the endeavor proved, she knew she had to avoid startling Snowball at all cost. Eventually, she reached him, her hand moving toward him, ready to snatch him up, just as another grunt shook the air.

  Snowball darted off beneath a fern, and Sarah swore with vigor. Hands clenched into two tight fists, she prepared to rise and give whatever creature it was that had produced the sound a proper set down, when a voice spoke, saying, “Aren’t you a bit too old to be crawling about on the floor?”

  Sarah froze. If the grunt had belonged to a pig, she might have understood. A pig would not have been clever enough to know what Sarah was trying to accomplish, but then again, a pig would not have been roaming around a conservatory either. Her irritation grew. Of course her efforts had failed because of a man. Brilliant!

  Expelling a deep breath, she unclenched her fists, closed her eyes for a brief second and rose, determined to avoid a quarrel with the foolish individual behind her. She prayed that somehow she’d find the ability to be polite in spite of her annoyance. “Sir,” she started to say as she turned toward the dunce, “I will have you know that I . . .” Her words trailed off as he came into view.

  Heaven above if the addlepated dunderhead had not been graced with looks that could easily make a roomful of women swoon. Sarah steeled herself. She would not allow his handsome face to affect her. “Where else should I be, all things considered?”

  “On your feet?” he suggested, as if he were speaking to a child.

  Sarah glared at him. “Obviously,” she said. “Why on earth didn’t I think of that?”

  Idiot.

  The man’s eyes widened as he leaned back a notch, and Sarah realized to her horror that she’d spoken the insult out loud.

  Chapter 2

  Christopher trained his features. Surely the young lady—­if such a term could even be used to describe a woman who scrambled about on the floor—­had not just called him an idiot. The look of horror upon her fac
e confirmed that indeed she had, and as he stood there staring back at her, wondering what she would say next, Christopher considered taking the gentlemanly approach and saying something to save her from further embarrassment. He quickly dispelled the notion. “Do your parents approve of your poor manners?”

  “My poor manners?” Her eyes glinted. “I . . . I . . . I will have you know—­”

  “Yes, so you said before, and as a result, my eagerness to discover what it is you wish for me to know is increasing by the second.” Then, to prove himself completely unsympathetic, he followed the statement by saying, “By the way, there’s dirt along your hemline.”

  She dropped her gaze, shifted a little, then let out a sigh. “So there is,” she said, her tone suggesting that the state of her gown was presently of very little concern to her.

  Clearing his throat to fill the silence that followed, Christopher stepped forward, intending to make up for his poor behavior by introducing himself properly. But as he moved toward her, she quickly retreated, the heel of her foot hitting the edge of the path just as a gasp burst from between her rosy lips. One second she was standing upright, and the next she was tumbling backward, arms flailing as she reached for something to grab onto.

  He was before her in two long strides, his arm reaching around her back, catching her while her weight carried him forward until he loomed over her, one leg bending at the knee as his booted foot sank into the boxed soil behind her. She sucked in a breath, eyes going wide, and he became instantly aware of their inappropriate closeness.

  “What are you doing?” she asked irritably.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m saving you.”

  “As gallant as that may seem, you wouldn’t have had to make the effort if you’d only stayed where you were.”

  “Are you saying this is my fault?”

  “Of course it is. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to return to an upright position.” Briefly, Christopher considered dropping her. Thinking better of it, he pulled back instead, bringing them both away from the dirt. He immediately released her, aware that she was looking terribly shocked, perhaps even frightened. “Forgive me,” he said as she stepped out of his reach. Bowing, he added, “Viscount Spencer at your ser­vice, Lady . . . ?”