Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (45 page)

She braced and breezed into the room, pretending she’d just arrived, pretending she hadn’t eavesdropped.

“Sheldon,”she cheerfully said, “I heard you were home.”

“Hello, Mildred.” On seeing her, his annoyance was clear, but he quickly masked it, exuding his typical courtesy.

Mildred blustered through the awkward moment. “Sarah, I didn’t realize you were visiting.”

“Mildred.” Sarah tipped her head in acknowledgement, but offered no other greeting.

She and Sarah hadn’t spoken since the day of John Sinclair’s arrest, but Sarah had always been kindhearted, willing to forgive and forget. Mildred prayed this occasion was no different.

Mildred had to reaffirm her relationship with Sarah, had to set Sarah to rights so she remembered her family, her responsibility to Mildred. Sheldon had to be put in his place. He wasn’t getting his greedy paws on Bramble Bay.

“You two certainly look glum,”Mildred said. “What’s happened?”

“Mildred”—Sheldon’s exasperation bubbled up—“this is a private chat. I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Leave? Don’t be silly. Sarah is my stepdaughter, and there have never been any secrets between us.” She flashed a warm smile at Sarah. “You don’t mind if I listen in, do you, Sarah?”

She didn’t know what reply she’d expected from Sarah, but it wasn’t the one she received.

“How much money was bequeathed to me in my father’s will?”

Mildred sucked in a sharp breath, then glanced away. Her cheeks reddened; she couldn’t stop a shameful blush from spreading.

“I’ve told you numerous times: You weren’t named as a beneficiary.”

“What was to be in my dowry? Was it property? What had Father arranged?”

“Sarah, he left you
nothing
, and I hate it that you persist in inquiring.”

Sheldon butted in. “Why are you asking, Sarah?”

“Before Mr. Sinclair returned to France, his accountant audited the estate ledgers.”

“Obviously, he found a discrepancy,”Sheldon said.

“Father provided me with a very fine inheritance and dowry. Mildred lied to me and—”

“I did not!”Mildred indignantly huffed.

Sarah ignored her and kept talking to Sheldon. “Hedley squandered it in London. Mildred wasted a good portion of it, too.”

“Mildred, is this true?” Sheldon’s disdain was aggravating to witness.

“No, it’s not true. Why would you accept the word of a notorious pirate over mine? Of course we didn’t take what wasn’t ours, because there wasn’t anything to take. There was no dowry for Sarah.”

“Despite what you claim,”Sheldon pompously intoned, “Mr. Sinclair is
not
a pirate. The court adjudged that he’s the natural-born son of the Earl of Trent and a very rich gentleman in his own right. I hardly suppose he’d fabricate an audit.”

“Sheldon,”Sarah said, “did you ever discuss the issue with my father?”

“No, and now I’m regretting it. If I’d known about this, I’d never have let them steal from you.”

“We stole nothing!”Mildred insisted, but she couldn’t hold their condemning stares.

“Did Mr. Sinclair leave the ledgers at the estate?”Sheldon asked Sarah.

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll get to the bottom of it.” He sat back, looking pretentious and irritating. “If Bramble Bay is to be mine, I might have a case to recover some of what they pilfered.”

“Bramble Bay might be
yours
?” Mildred feigned innocence, as if it was the first time she’d heard the news. “Why would it pass to you?”

“Sarah and I are considering marriage.”

Mildred shook her head to clear her ears. “You’re what?”

“We’re thinking of marrying. Mr. Sinclair has left England, and before he went, he gave the property to Sarah. If we proceed, it will come to me as her bride price.”

“But…but…”Mildred stammered.

She wanted to say,
I thought you and I would wed! I thought I would be your wife! It can’t be Sarah! Anyone but Sarah!

Yet if she dared to comment, she’d embarrass herself.

He had never evinced by the slightest word or deed that he would propose, but she’d worked so intently to win him. Sarah couldn’t just waltz in and take him. Where was the fairness in that?

“Are you certain you should, Sheldon?”she blandly inquired. “Have you forgotten all the months I urged her to have you, and she constantly refused and delayed? Surely you should ponder a little more carefully.”

Sheldon focused his gaze on Sarah, and he studied her, appearing a tad aggrieved with her, but only a tad. After all, if they married, he’d get Bramble Bay.

Sarah didn’t shrink from his assessment, but was stoically silent, as if she deserved his rude appraisal and much more.

“Circumstances change,”Sheldon ultimately mused, “and I believe Sarah has come to her senses.”

“Well, I wouldn’t trust her,”Mildred churlishly snapped.

“You’re not the one marrying her. It’s between Sarah and myself. You shouldn’t vex yourself over it.”

“John Sinclair has a message for you, Mildred,”Sarah said.

“A message from that brigand? I don’t wish to hear it.”

Sarah continued as if Mildred hadn’t spoken. “He had Hedley kidnapped and conscripted into the merchant marines.”

Mildred gasped. “He what?”

Sarah retrieved a satchel from the floor and pulled out some papers. She handed them to Mildred.

“It’s all explained in these documents. He’s proclaimed himself the male head of your family.”

“The what? The man is insane!”

“He really is Florence’s son, Mildred. I’m sorry for you that you were so cruel to him. Perhaps you should rethink the level of your dislike.”

Mildred paled, growing so dizzy she thought she might faint. She staggered over to a chair and eased herself down.

“He can’t be Florence’s son,”she muttered. “He can’t be.”

“He is. He sent Hedley away, and he’s arranged for you to move to town.”

“I don’t want to move to town.”

“He bought you a house.”

“I don’t want his blasted house!”

“Then I can’t help you, and as Sheldon requested, you must leave us alone so we can finish our discussion. I’m a bit distraught, and there’s nothing else for you and I to say to one another.”

“I want to return to Bramble Bay!”Mildred fumed. “I want my home back! I want my son back! I want my life back!”

“None of that will happen, Mildred, and you really need to go away.”

Sheldon—always the calm port in any storm—stood and clasped Mildred by the elbow. He tugged her to her feet.

“Let’s get you up to your room.”

“I won’t be shuttled off like a recalcitrant toddler.“

“After Sarah departs, you and I can review the paperwork Mr. Sinclair prepared. I’ll bet we can have you packed and ready to travel to London tomorrow morning.” He grinned condescendingly. “I’m happy to let you use my carriage.”

He pushed her into the hall and closed the door. The key spun in the lock, and she lurched to the stairs and trudged up to her bedchamber. She flopped down on the bed, wailing in misery, a veritable cauldron of fury and woe.

She’d lost everything. Because of Florence. Because of her rebellious, indecent, immoral sister.

She’d had to wed Bernard because of Florence. She’d had to settle in the country in the middle of nowhere, had had to live quietly and futilely at the rural farm. Decade after decade, the excitement of town had sped by.

Now, because of Florence, she’d also lost her home and her son. And Sarah, too. Sarah was the only person who might have aided Mildred, who might have allowed Mildred to come home where she belonged.

When she arrived in the city, her first act would be to purchase a pistol. She’d keep it loaded and would carry it with her at all times. If she ever saw John Sinclair again, she’d shoot him right between the eyes.

* * * *

“Sarah, there you are. Where have you been?”

“I went to talk to Sheldon.”

Sarah was standing at the rear windows of the parlor, gazing down the sloping lawn to the ocean off in the distance. It was a cold autumn day, the water stormy with whitecaps.

Was John Sinclair on the other shore, in France, staring at the same roiling waves? Or had he sailed off to warmer climes, to sunny beaches and tropical foliage where he could drink and loaf and pretend he had no responsibilities? Was the impertinent ass enjoying himself? Did he ever wonder about her—as she wondered about him?

Stop it!
she scolded.
Stop moping over him! Stop obsessing!

There was no point anymore, was there?

She glanced over her shoulder to where Caroline hovered in the doorway. She was no longer Caroline Patterson, but Mrs. Caroline Hook, having married her beloved Raven at the earliest opportunity.

While John Sinclair had flitted off to parts unknown, having no ties to bind him, Raven had proved himself to be absurdly devoted. He’d stayed with Caroline. He’d wed her, and they were ridiculously happy.

Sarah wanted to be glad for them, wanted to celebrate Caroline’s marvelous turn of fortune. But apparently, Sarah was a very petty person. She couldn’t bear to watch them cuddle and coo.

Fate was so cruel. Why had they ended up with everything while Sarah was to have nothing? She was sick at heart, feeling wretched and betrayed and more alone than she’d ever been.

“You went to see Sheldon?”Caroline said. “You poor dear. Are you ill? Are you deranged?”

“Come in, would you? And sit down? I need to tell you some distressing news.”

“My goodness. This sounds serious.”

“It is.”

Caroline plopped down on a sofa, and as Sarah seated herself in the chair across, Caroline scowled.

“Sarah, you look awful. I was joking about your being ill. Are you?”

“I’m not ill.”

“Then what’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”

There wasn’t any reason to dither or delay. Wasn’t it best to get it out in the open? To be blunt and direct?

“Sheldon and I have decided to marry.”

Caroline gasped with astonishment. “You what? No, no, no, you can’t mean it.”

“He has to resolve some issues with his solicitor, but once all the contracts are drawn up, we’ll wed.”

“Oh, Sarah, I can’t let you. This is madness. What are you thinking?”

“I’m increasing,”she brusquely stated.

“You’re…having a baby?”

“Yes.”

“And Sheldon agreed to marry you?”

“Yes.”

“The child couldn’t possibly be his. Who is the father?” Caroline stopped herself. “Well, obviously, it’s Jean Pierre.”

Sarah merely shrugged.

“Did you tell Sheldon about your affair?”

“I was very frank, and he was very kind.”

Caroline scoffed. “Sheldon is many things, but he’s
not
kind. Don’t pretend that he was.”

“Under the circumstances, he was a veritable knight in shining armor.”

“Does Jean Pierre know?”

“I don’t see how he would. Sheldon is the only one I’ve told besides you.”

“We have to get word to him immediately. Raven has a secret method for contacting him. We’ll send a letter.”

“We’re not sending any letter.”

“Yes, we are. He has to haul his sorry behind back to England and marry you himself.”

“No.” Sarah shook her head. “I don’t want that.”

“Don’t be daft. Of course he has to come back.”

“John Sinclair doesn’t care about me, Caroline. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He never has.”

“This doesn’t have to do with
caring
. This has to do with the fact that he sired a child on you, and he has to pay the price. Matrimony is the price.”

“He wouldn’t think so.”

“He doesn’t get to have an opinion. That’s how the world works. A man misbehaves, and shortly after, he finds his butt at the altar, with a leg shackle being hammered onto his ankle.”

“Not John Sinclair. He’s his father’s son in every way, and I won’t humiliate myself by begging him to assist me.”

“Don’t say that.”

Sarah sighed, hating the entire conversation.

From the moment she’d realized her condition, she’d known what she had to do.

John had been very clear as to his feelings about Sarah. While she’d been merrily planning their future, he’d been furtively plotting to abandon her at a coaching inn. He’d ridden away without a goodbye or backward glance.

It remained the most mortifying episode of her life, and if she lived to be a hundred, she didn’t imagine she’d ever recover from the shame of how he’d treated her.

Still though, all these weeks later, she kept stupidly assuming he’d change his mind. She kept watching the road, expecting to see him galloping in on his white stallion. She kept watching the mail, assuming he would write to tell her he hadn’t meant it, that he was coming back to her.

Yet from the day they’d met, he’d played her for a fool, and she had to cease her fantastical dreaming that she could have a different ending with him. He was who he was: a cold, hard man who didn’t bond or attach himself. She didn’t think he
could
attach himself.

She could have Raven rush to France, could wait and pray that Raven could persuade him. But he wouldn’t return, and she didn’t dare deceive herself, because she didn’t have time to waste. If Raven chased after him, it might be months before Raven staggered in with the degrading news that she’d been rebuffed.

What then?

She’d leapt into their affair without pausing to worry about the ramifications. She’d been so idiotically enamored, so unsophisticated at amour, that the prospect of a pregnancy or the fact that she had no ring on her finger had never occurred to her.

As she’d grown more wary and had fretted, John had sworn he couldn’t sire a child. She’d believed him! And she had to accept that—like his reprehensible father—he probably had offspring scattered across the globe.

A single woman couldn’t blithely fornicate without consequences arising. There were laws and moral teachings that prohibited decadent acts. No person in the neighborhood would tolerate her disgraceful ruination. No person would be civil or forgive her sins. She couldn’t stay at Bramble Bay and be a mother with no husband.