Loving Sarah (25 page)

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Authors: Sandy Raven

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Loving Sarah
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If he never wanted children, then they needed to seek an annulment of their marriage.

She rose and wrapped a towel around her hair and began to pat herself dry. Trudy arrived and helped her dress in a comfortable pale peach day dress, and she climbed the servant’s stairs to the floor where her room was, then had her maid brush her hair dry before the fire.

While Trudy was coiling and pinning her hair, Lia knocked and entered. When she drew closer, she said, “Ian has arrived and would like to know if you are well enough for visitors?”

She met Lia’s gaze in the mirror. “What is his mood?”

“Pleasant, I believe,” her sister-in-law replied. “He’s never been anything less than amiable.”

“Could he come up here, so we may speak privately?”

“Of course, he is your husband, Sarah.”

“Fine, then send him up.” She turned to her fresh-faced maid and said, “We can leave the hair for now and pin it before dinner.” As the woman turned to go, Sarah remembered, “Can you ask for a tea tray too, please Trudy?”

The maid nodded, then bobbed a curtsy and was off, leaving her in the room with Lia.

“I am feeling more myself now that I’ve had some rest and good food,” she said. “There are a great many things I think I need some clarity on with my husband before we can proceed in this marriage.”

The duchess nodded and said, “Then do not settle for anything less than what you want for your marriage. You are half this union. He should respect
your
voice for
your
desires for
your
union.”

“I agree. There is no turning back on the marriage, and I would like a normal husband-wife…,” she scanned the room to make sure no servants had entered. “I want a normal marriage bed! Not one where my husband is praying I don’t conceive.”

“Well, there is only one way not to conceive, and unless he plans to never take you to his bed again, there will always be the possibility no matter which preventive manner he chooses to practice.”

“I agree.” Sarah rose and smoothed her pink morning dress. “Will you send him up, please? I am ready to take on my husband.”

“Remember to be kind,” her sister-in-law added. “You will attract more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

She was glad she’d worn this dress. She felt the shade of pastel peach helped her cheeks appear healthier than if she’d worn any another color. And with the natural light coming in from the windows with the curtains pulled open, she hoped she looked better than she did three days ago.

Sarah recognized his booted footfall as he strode with determination down the carpeted hallway. She noticed it was something he always did wherever he went. Suddenly, her door opened and Ian’s frame filled the doorway. It was a comical sight actually, one she had no memory of seeing when he came several days earlier. Her husband had to duck his head to enter the room, and his broad shoulders nearly touched the edges to each side. Funny thing, she never thought the doorway particularly narrow or short, but to see
him
come through made her reconsider that.

“You look well again,” Ian said.

Why couldn’t he greet her as a man who’d missed his wife? Or tell her she looked beautiful? Was she less than what he’d desired? They might have been forced to marry because of her impulsive actions, but couldn’t he like her even a little outside of the bed?

Sarah had to stop thinking this way—feeling sorry for herself. She raised her shoulders and straightened her back. “Thank you, I do feel much better.”

He shifted uncomfortably, and she offered him a seat on one of the two chairs near her windows. She watched as he unbuttoned his coat and sat in one of them. The tea cart arrived, and Sarah poured for them both and took the seat opposite him.

“I am glad you have recovered,” he said, just before an uneasy silence fell between them. She sipped her tea, and he the same.

She wanted to ask him what had taken him so long and why did he come now. But she felt both questions might sound more accusatory than she would intend for them to be, so they went unspoken. “As am I.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say in the space between them. She went back to staring at the contents of her tea cup, wondering how she would tell him all of the things she needed to say to him, having reached the decision as she had while bathing just over an hour ago.

“We need to talk,” he began

“Where have you…?” She stopped and motioned for him to continue.

He cleared his throat first before speaking. “If you were going to ask where I have been, you had to know I’ve been on
Revenge
.” When she nodded, he offered her a slight smile. “Lucky says your family is returning to Haldenwood from here, as the season is over.” She nodded and his facial features became serious. “There is something that we must discuss before I leave for London, then China.”

“You are right,” she replied, then took the lead asking the first question. “The other night you said you were thankful I had not conceived during the race.”

He set the cup on the tea table. “I’ve spent the last three days regretting that I upset you,” he said. “I think my words may not have come out as I intended Sarah, and I feel the need to clarify.”

“Please do,” she said. “Because if you cannot make me see your reasoning, then…there can be no future for us.” Sarah forced back the tears, refusing to give in to them just yet. “We are done. I want children, Ian.”

He pulled at his collar to loosen it some, then ran his hand over his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. Sarah could tell these were his nervous actions, things he likely didn’t think she knew about him.

“I did not have the idyllic upbringing you had, Sarah. My father sent me away when I was old enough to attend school in England because I had to succeed my grandfather. There is much I did not understand as a child, and there are no letters, no journals, nothing…nothing to help me understand why my father was so willing to part with me. I idolized him and he sent me away.”

Her husband stood and began to pace the tiny area between the hearth and where she sat near the window. “When I arrived, my grandfather did not want me in his home. He said that I wasn’t fit to wipe mud from his boots. He called my mother a common whore and my father a traitor to the crown. I was sent to Rugby School and on my breaks lived with my aunts, except for that annual meeting I was forced to make to my grandfather. After….” He stopped at the window and looked out on to the back garden. “Well, when I reached a certain age, I never went back to visit him. The man detested me, a child, without knowing me. As soon as I became old enough to refuse to see him, I quit torturing us both.”

Sarah watched his back as he struggled with his inner demons. “Why didn’t you go back to Baltimore? Didn’t you have friends there?”

He shook his head and Sarah felt sorry for him. “There was nothing left for me in Harbor Village, where I’m from. No one. My mother died when I was a child, I had no siblings, and my father was dead within a year of my leaving.”

Her attitude softened, but she still wanted to know why he’d never mentioned this lack of desire for children until now. She wanted children very much. It would devastate her to remain in a marriage with a man she was growing to love if he did not love children as much as she.

Ian turned to face her as he leaned against the window frame. “Obviously, there was plenty of opportunity for you to conceive during the race, and if you had I would have….” He gave her a sheepish shrug of the shoulders. “I guess I would have welcomed a child.” He came to her side. “I know you are sad because you did not conceive, but in all honesty, I am happy to not have the added worries and responsibilities of a child at this time. That’s not to say I will never…. Sarah?”

She heard loud roaring of water whooshing to the beat of her heart, and it drowned out anything more he was saying. She made out snippets, as bile began to rise in her throat, burning its way out. Running to the chamber pot, she made it just in time.

“I thought you were feeling better,” he said, concern evident in his voice. “Shall I ring for your maid?”

Sarah rested back on her heels and nodded. After wiping her mouth, she met his concerned gaze, fully intending to call him out on not sharing this idea of his. “I understand you had a less than loving upbringing, and I sympathize with that. But…
welcomed?
You
guess
you would have
welcomed
a child?” She was simply astonished at his attitude. “As though it was a visitor and you had a choice? And at any time, did it
ever
cross your mind that I might want to know of this…this…lack of desire for a child?” He turned away. “Perhaps you should go, Ian. I would hate for you to get sick before leaving for China.”

“I….” Sarah never heard what else he said because she had to turn her head to the chamber pot again.

“I’m sorry. Please, just leave, Ian.”

He stood on the other side of her privacy screen, listening to her heaving the emptiness from her stomach. “I shall return, Sarah,” he said. “Before I leave for London. I will come back to make sure you are well.”

“Don’t bother, Ian. Really, I’ll be fine as soon as I get over this upset stomach.” She sounded far braver than she felt. And her husband must have understood her loud and clear because he turned and left the room without a glance back.

As soon as he shut the door, she burst into tears.

 

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

 

 

S
ummer soon gave way to fall. The miserable wet, cold season had always been Sarah’s least favorite time of year. And this autumn was no different. Hearing through family conversations, because she would never ask directly, she learned that Ian and Lucky had gone to the Chinese port of Fuchow to load their ships with crates of tea for England.

Every man on board those two vessels—from the old salts to the young boys—had earned her respect and admiration for the work they did, so she prayed nightly for their safe journey and that all the men she met on both ships would return to their loved ones, including Ian.

Yes, she prayed daily—several times a day, actually—that he would realize she loved him and that he might grow to love her in return. Oh, she was certain he had some sentiment for her. He’d said he missed her, and she held on to that delicate thread, hoping that was his meaning, hoping he was growing to love her as well.

Sarah sat in her bedroom window seat that dreary afternoon in October, watching as a light rain fell. She stared out at the vast, masterfully tended lawn of Haldenwood, the grass beginning to turn its autumnal green-golden color. A light wind blew the first of the dead leaves from the trees, and they began to line the macadam drive in the distance. Nearly the entire length of the drive was lined with oaks planted centuries before her birth, and the duchess’s garden designs hadn’t changed from the days her grandmother had placed each shrub and bush into the earth when Sarah was a babe. According to Lia, they would not change for as long as she was the duchess, because to look at them, she’d said, reminded her of a woman she loved and respected during the short time they knew one another.

She saw the light carriage come down the drive and knew it was time to ask an enormous favor of Ian’s aunts. Sarah prayed they didn’t refuse her. She didn’t see why they should, as they were her aunts now too. And they would be relieved to know that her brother had given his blessing to the plan, but only after she agreed to his concessions.

She caressed her expanding belly lovingly and thought of her child’s future. Ian might be furious when he returned, especially when he learned of the entirety of her doings. But this was her babe, and she was doing what was right for her child and her family’s future. Hopefully, her husband would one day see it this way too.

She rest her palms on her belly, feeling the light fluttering of life within. If anything should happen to her during or after the birth, she prayed that when Ian learned of his son or daughter he would be pleased.

Her maid entered the room, notifying her that Ian’s aunts had arrived and that she was invited to meet the duchess and the guests in the yellow salon.

“Thank you, Trudy,” she said. After checking her appearance in the tall pier glass, she smoothed her skirts and went below. As she entered the salon, she smiled at the two elderly women seated across from Lia. Ian’s aunts were about to learn of her changed condition.

“There you are, dear,” one elderly twin said.

“Yes, how lovely to see you again,” said the other.

Two silver heads bobbed in unison as they commented on her healthful looks. Sarah didn’t have to imagine their thoughts at her appearance, because she knew she’d gained weight. They discussed the earl’s degrading health and his tenacity to cling to life even when certain death was imminent.

“He is the strongest, most invincible, man we know,” said one twin.

The other’s turbaned head bobbed. “Oh, yes. He will not pass from this earth until he is ready.”

“I am very happy he is doing well and have prayed for him daily. I know that Ian has said he wanted no relationship with the man, but I feel that if his lordship would just make an overture toward peace, surely I can get my husband to speak with him. They need to put this behind them both.”

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