Lady Sarah's Sinful Desires Page 7

“Lord Spencer?” He couldn’t be serious.

  “And since the two of you are already well acquainted, it should be simple enough for you to put in a good word on Victoria’s and Diana’s behalf.”

  Good God. He was serious. Or at the very least mad. “As it happens, we did speak of marriage last night.” When Mr. Denison’s eyes darkened, Sarah quickly added, “I thought I would make it clear to him that I am already spoken for.”

  “Wisely done, Lady Sarah,” Mr. Denison said. “I applaud you.”

  “As it turns out, however,” she continued slowly, “his lordship informed me that he has no intention of becoming affianced to any young lady in the immediate future.”

  “Ah, but he hasn’t met my Victoria or my Diana yet,” Mr. Denison said. “Once he does, he’ll be sure to change his mind.”

  Sarah doubted that but chose not to say otherwise. At present, she was faced with greater concerns, like the fact that Mr. Denison was suddenly much closer than he had been a second earlier. Please don’t touch me.

  Raising his hand, he caught a strand of her hair between his fingers, his lips pursing while he studied it. “I’m lucky your father happened to mention you in passing during his last visit to my farm. We were discussing our new business transaction, and when I told him he’d have to do better than one stallion when I was putting in ten mares, he brought you up.”

  Oh joy!

  “Can’t say I have an issue with marrying into the Earl of Andover’s esteemed family, even if you are spoiled goods,” he said, and Sarah flinched. “After all, we both know that you must marry, and since nobody else will have you if they are made aware of your . . . situation . . . it appears you’re quite stuck with me. So I do hope you’ll appreciate how lucky you are as well. After all, you are acquiring a husband.”

  It was a struggle not to gape at him. Standing perfectly still, Sarah concentrated on breathing. Dear Lord, this was not someone she could easily run away from but the man who would soon have the right to bed her.

  He leaned closer, while the edge of his mouth curved upward. “In case you’re wondering, I find myself particularly fortunate to be marrying the sort of woman whose passions run so high that she’d allow a man to have his way with her at a house party.”

  Swallowing the bile that rose in her throat, Sarah thought of her sisters, her parents, her greatest error in judgment—­every reason she had for allowing this man near her. “It wasn’t like that,” she said, relieved that her voice did not betray the ragged state of her nerves.

  Mr. Denison chuckled. “You needn’t deny your true nature when you are with me, Lady Sarah, for indeed, I look forward to encouraging your wanton behavior.” Leaning in, his lips brushed her earlobe.

  “Sir,” she managed, “this is highly improper.”

  “I rather suspect that you like impropriety.”

  Good God! Was that his tongue against her ear?

  “Why, you’re practically trembling in your effort to suppress the desire I’ve evoked in you. You needn’t though.” Easing away from her a little, he looked at her from behind hooded eyes. “In fact, if I may make a suggestion, we could retreat to a more private location, where I could show you—­”

  “No!” Unable to take any more of it, Sarah stepped back, her breathing fast and desperate.

  Mr. Denison’s eyes widened, his entire face contorting into an ugly grimace as he caught her firmly by the wrist and pulled her toward him. “No?”

  “Forgive me,” Sarah said, suddenly fearful of what he might do next. She glanced around, hoping to find a reason to escape his grasp. Unfortunately a hedge shielded them from the view of others.

  “If you’re unwilling to submit, then perhaps I ought to reconsider my bargain with your father?”

  What a blessing that would be, but with her sisters’ futures at stake, it was one Sarah couldn’t allow, no matter how much she detested the thought of sharing the rest of her life with the likes of Mr. Denison. “And forgo the handsome compensation you’ll receive from Papa on our wedding day?” His eyes sharpened, telling her she’d hit the nail squarely on its head, even though she’d no idea how big her dowry was. Huge, would be her guess, all things considered.

  “The amount was certainly tempting, but now that I’ve seen you . . . well, there’s no denying that you’re the real prize.” He licked his lips while his eyes roamed over her, making her stomach churn. “I’ve had a prudish wife for much too long, Lady Sarah. Now that she’s gone, I’ve a yearning for a wanton one instead—­one who’ll give me the sons I crave and whose body I can enjoy to my heart’s content.”

  Sarah gasped. She could not believe he’d just said that to her.

  Laughter shook his belly. “You’re going to live on a farm, my dear. I suggest you get used to the baser things in life. If you resist . . . well, let’s just say that you wouldn’t be the first to feel the sting of my hand.”

  He was a monster. She considered telling her father, but what good would that do? It wasn’t a crime for a man to beat his wife, even if it might be frowned upon by some. Lord, there were even men who sold their wives at market if they wished to be rid of them. And her father had determined to be rid of her, so whatever she told him, he’d probably claim she exaggerated the issue. Especially since Mr. Denison had seemed so polite and reserved in Lord Andover’s presence.

  Sarah took a breath. She needed time in which to examine her options. “I wouldn’t wish to make you unhappy,” she said, her mind spinning as she sought the right thing to say, “but I would like for us to have a respectable start to our marriage—­for it to be devoid of any scandal. After all, you do have your daughters to consider. If you wish for them to marry nobility, as you say, then it would hardly do for anyone to find their father in an indelicate situation with me, even if we are to be married.”

  He stared at her long and hard before leaning back. “As much as I had hoped our courtship would lead to stolen kisses and . . . so much more, I have to admit that you make an excellent point.”

  Sarah expelled the breath she’d been holding, her shoulders sagging with relief. “Perhaps I should join your daughters for tea this afternoon so I can get a feel for their accomplishments,” she suggested, hoping to steer his thoughts in a different direction.

  “An excellent idea,” Mr. Denison said as he picked a rose and offered it to her, all traces of lechery gone from his countenance. It was like being with a completely different man from the one who’d regaled her with his lascivious ideas only moments earlier. “Shall we continue along this path? I believe it will take us down to the lake.”

  They had not gone more than five paces before Sarah heard a voice calling her name. Halting her progress, she felt a wave of relief at the sight of Lady Fiona coming her way, though apprehension swiftly followed when she saw that Lady Fiona was not alone. She was accompanied by Lady Emily and Lady Laura, as well as by Lord Spencer, who was even handsomer than she recalled.

  Determined not to favor him with too much attention, Sarah shifted her gaze to his sisters. “What a lovely surprise,” she said as she addressed the group as a whole. They couldn’t possibly imagine how grateful she was to them for intervening in her stroll with Mr. Denison.

  “We hope we’re not interrupting a private conversation,” Lady Laura said.

  “Not at all,” Sarah said politely. “Your company is most welcome.”

  Against her better judgment, she glanced at Lord Spencer, her cheeks heating when she found that he was looking straight back at her. His handsomeness was clearly having an effect on her—­one she shouldn’t allow. Shrugging off the shiver that spread across her shoulders, she focused on Ladies Emily, Laura and Fiona, saying, “If you will permit, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Denison.”

  “We’re delighted to make your acquaintance,” Lady Fiona said while Lady Laura and Lady Emily both nodded in agreement. “And since our
paths have crossed, may I suggest you join us? We’re hoping to make an attempt at the maze.”

  “Well . . .” Mr. Denison hedged, clearly reluctant to join a larger group.

  “Oh, it’s going to be such fun,” Lady Fiona said, already stepping toward him and taking him by the arm.

  “Thank you, but we’d rather not,” Mr. Denison said, his hand possessively holding on to Sarah’s arm.

  It was more than Sarah was willing to bear. “I think a maze sounds splendid,” she said. “In fact, I believe I should like to try it with my friends, but if you’d rather not—­”

  “I understand your daughters wish to marry?” Fiona blurted.

  Sarah couldn’t imagine how she’d discovered that bit of information or how it might be relevant to the conversation, but when Mr. Denison nodded, Fiona said, “The Duchess of Pinehurst is most eager for her grandsons to marry as well. None have been very successful with the ladies, but it would be a wonderful coup for your daughters—­an association with a duke and duchess. Her Grace is presently enjoying a quiet spot in the shade just over there—­I’d be happy to introduce you to her if you like.”

  Sarah couldn’t imagine the Duchess of Pinehurst being pleased by Mr. Denison’s unexpected company, but she felt the need for a reprieve from him herself and almost jumped for joy when he accepted Lady Fiona’s offer. “I’ll see you this evening for dinner, my lady,” he told Sarah. To everyone else, he said, “A pleasure meeting you,” before strolling off alongside Lady Fiona.

  Sarah watched them approach the duchess, not daring to enjoy her freedom until he took a seat beside the dragon and Lady Fiona was on her way back.

  “Is he not courting you?” Lady Laura inquired as they waited for Lady Fiona to reach them.

  “He is,” Sarah said, uncomfortable with the confession.

  “And yet he won’t be seeing you again before dinner?” Lady Laura asked.

  Sarah was grateful for it. “He’ll probably go back to the house for luncheon before we’re finished with the maze, and then he’ll take his afternoon rest,” she explained.

  “How difficult that must be for you,” Lord Spencer murmured, his expression completely inscrutable.

  His voice, on the other hand, made her heart flutter just enough to remind her of the effect he was starting to have on her. “Are you not aware that absence makes the heart grow fonder?” she asked.

  He raised an eyebrow but failed to comment, since Lady Fiona arrived at precisely that moment. “Shall we proceed?” she asked.

  Nodding, Sarah fell into step beside her.

  “We simply cannot allow you to marry that man,” Lady Fiona said as they walked ahead of everyone else. “He’s much older than I expected and not the least bit handsome. As a beautiful young lady, the daughter of an earl, no less, you can do so much better for yourself.”

  Sarah sighed. Lady Fiona’s curiosity and eagerness to help where she believed help was needed would be difficult to tackle. “Thank you for your consideration, but—­”

  “I can think of a dozen more eligible gentlemen who’d be thrilled to make you their wife.”

  No you can’t, Sarah thought sadly.

  “Spencer, for instance—­”

  “Please stop,” Sarah said, afraid Lord Spencer might have overheard. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was secretly scheming to lure him to the altar. “We have nothing in common.” She decided not to mention that he also unnerved her with his uncanny ability to look ill-­tempered at all hours of the day. But she had to admit that she did enjoy their discourse. Perhaps they could be friends, in an odd sort of way.

  Lady Fiona slanted a look in her direction as if to say, And I suppose you have much in common with Mr. Denison? Instead she asked, “Why are you really considering marriage to that man?”

  Sarah almost choked. “I . . .” She had no obligation to answer that question, especially since she’d only met the Heartlys the day before. Clenching her jaw, she said, “It’s a private matter.”

  There was a moment’s silence until Lady Fiona leaned closer and whispered, “If you ever feel the need to discuss it with a friend, I’d like you to know that you can count on me.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah said. She was grateful for the offer, even though it was one she could never accept.

  “Isn’t Thorncliff marvelous?” Lady Laura asked as she and Lady Emily came up alongside Sarah and Lady Fiona. “I do hope you’re enjoying your stay, Lady Sarah.”

  “It’s a marvelous estate,” Sarah said.

  “And utterly romantic,” Laura said with a conspiratorial smile.

  Sarah’s cheeks heated in a most impractical way. Aware of Lord Spencer’s presence as he followed behind them, she couldn’t help but say, “And contrary to Bodiam Castle, Thorncliff is impressive both inside and out.”

  “A fine observation,” Lady Fiona remarked. “Perhaps you share Spencer’s interest in English castles?”

  Realizing her mistake, Sarah said, “Not really.” Determined not to encourage any matchmaking ideas, she chose not to mention the fact that although she’d never considered the issue, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by Thorncliff and longed to know more about it.

  “I agree with you,” Lady Emily said. “It’s just nice to be able to enjoy such a wonderful retreat.”

  “And the opportunity to remain abed all day if I so desire,” Sarah added.

  Christopher coughed, then raised an eyebrow when Fiona and Lady Sarah turned to look at him. “Are you all right?” Fiona asked.

  “Quite,” he managed, though he was anything but after Lady Sarah’s talk of staying abed. The unbidden vision that had produced, of her sprawled out upon the sheets, naked, of course . . . He struggled to think of something—­like problems that might occur if crocodiles were found in the lake—­that would halt the sudden stirring in his nether region. Could crocodiles even survive in the British climate, or would Lady Duncaster have to bring them inside for the winter? The thought that evoked, of reptiles roaming about the halls of Thorncliff and possibly lounging on the sofas, brought a stupid smile to his lips and then an unintentional chuckle.

  “What’s so funny?” Emily asked.

  Christopher blinked, then schooled his features and frowned. He’d been woolgathering and had failed to realize that his sister had fallen behind and was now walking directly beside him. “Crocodiles,” he said.

  “Crocodiles?” The note of disbelief was almost tangible.

  “Funny creatures, don’t you think?” Christopher mused, unwilling to divulge the reason behind his thought process for fear that . . . he grimaced as his mind betrayed his command, offering him an image of Lady Sarah’s hair fanned out upon a pillow as she gazed up at him with parted lips, so ripe for kissing. As much as he’d tried not to notice how tempting they were, he wasn’t dead, and had consequently failed in his attempt.

  “You look a bit tense,” Laura said, and Christopher blinked again, surprised to discover that she had snuck up on him as well. “Perhaps you ought to loosen your cravat, lest it cut off the blood supply to your head.” She laughed at her joke, as did Emily.

  Christopher rolled his eyes.

  “Come on,” Fiona said when they reached the maze, releasing Lady Sarah and running forward. “First one through wins a green ribbon!”

  Laughing, Laura and Emily raced after her, while Lady Sarah looked mildly stunned.

  “Mazes tend to bring out their competitive streak,” Christopher told her.

  “But not yours?”

  “As pretty as I’d no doubt look with a green ribbon tied in a bow upon my head,” he said dryly, “I think my sisters have better use of it.”

  The corner of her mouth twitched, and without warning, she suddenly smiled—­a bright, beaming smile that reached her eyes, almost blinding him with her radiance. His heart stilled. No. He
would not allow himself to be drawn in by her feminine wiles. His sisters and mother might be able to get him to spend more time with her, but he’d be damned if he was going to let her anywhere near his heart.

  “You’re probably right,” she said, her expression sobering.

  If only he could make her look happy again. Her beauty had increased tenfold when she’d smiled, her joy threatening to infect him as well. Unwilling to let her affect him in any way, he looked to the puzzle the maze offered.

  “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the entrance.

  She hesitated, her eyes betraying her uncertainty. Perhaps he’d be able to tell his sisters that his efforts to spend more time with Lady Sarah had failed due to her lack of interest. But then, surprisingly, she raised her chin and nodded. Stubborn little minx. “I suppose we should at least try to follow your sisters,” she said. “The longer we delay, the less chance we’ll have of winning.”

  And so he offered her his arm, which she accepted, though he sensed she was regretting her choice to leave Mr. Denison’s company. Christopher still couldn’t believe she was destined to marry that stodgy old man. It defied logic, but so did many other ton marriages. Her arm remained loosely linked with his, her body as far away from his as possible as she hurried forward.

  “I get the impression that you’d like to avoid spending time with me,” he said after a few moments of silence between them. Spotting his sisters as they rounded a corner, Lady Sarah quickened her pace in an effort to catch up to them.

  “Your impression is correct,” she said.

  Her frankness startled him to such an extent that he found it difficult to comprehend that this was indeed what she had just said. “May I ask why?” he eventually managed.

  “Because in spite of your cynicism, I happen to enjoy your company.” She sounded sincere. There was even a hint of a smile to her voice.

  Christopher frowned, then shook his head, completely befuddled by her logic. “That makes no sense,” he finally told her.

  “It makes perfect sense to me, my lord, but if you want further explanation, I fear I must disappoint you, for I shall offer you none. All I ask is that you respect my desire to be left alone.”