Rescued by a Duke (11 page)

Garrett nodded his head to the other man and the woman with him. "Good day, Lord Farring. Lady Farring."

Sasha glanced at the other woman. Above a creamy complexion and full, pink lips were narrowed blue eyes, which appeared as cold as a winter's day. Why was the woman glaring so? At
her?
She'd never laid eyes on the woman before, yet the tension in the air seemed a living thing. The couple nodded and continued on, but the impression left on Sasha wouldn't go away. Looking around, she noticed several more couples openly gaping at her. What had she done to bring this on? Had Lady Johnsing been spreading bad stories about her?

And what of Garrett? How would this reflect on him? As much as Sasha loved to daydream about being part of his life, she had no real delusions it could ever happen. Even if she hadn't known it before, the cold stares of those around them would have convinced her of the fact.

Garrett patted Sasha's hand briefly, but a quick glance up at him told her that his focus stayed straight ahead. Was the pat on her hand for comfort? Had he also noticed the open stares of the others in the park?

They strolled through one edge of the park, taking slow, measured steps, admiring the shady trees and commenting on the fragrance of the patches of colorful flowers. What Sasha wouldn't give to hear Garrett's thoughts on the others' reactions! The more she was around Garrett's peers the more it opened her eyes to how different she was from him. And how any idea of the two of them being together was just a lonely woman's dream.

Chapter Eight

The knock on the bedroom door startled Sasha. Still groggy from an afternoon nap, she muttered a weary, "Come in."

Maryann slipped into the room and shut the door. Her face was flushed, her eyebrows raised.
What in the world?

"Maryann, has something happened? Is Garrett all right?"

The maid rushed to the bed and perched on the edge nearest Sasha. "Miss Douglas, you have a caller."

Sasha frowned. "I don't know what you mean."

"A gentleman caller."

She placed her hand on her chest. "Me? Here? A gentleman? Me?"

Maryann nodded through all of the questions. "Yes. It's that Lord Phillbush. He's waiting in the parlor. For
you
."

Sasha widened her eyes. "He is? Now? For me?"

Maryann grabbed hold of Sasha's hands. "Yes. We need to get you ready."

"Ready for what?"

Maryann sighed and spoke slower this time. "Lord Phillbush… He—"

"Yes, I know all that. I just meant, why me? And he was just here recently."

"Because you are unmarried and he's—"

Sasha remembered what Garrett had told her about Phillbush the other day. She opened her mouth but no words emerged. Snapping it shut, she swallowed. "He's looking for a wife."

"Exactly." Maryann stood and waited.

Sasha eyed her from the bed. "Couldn't we just say I am… uh… indisposed or something?"

"We could, but he would return tomorrow. And the next day. He is quite insistent to wait down there until you make an appearance."

Sasha waved a hand toward the door. "Oh well, I'm not worried. When he was here before, Garrett was with me and—"

"His grace is not home."

"What?" Sasha's mouth went dry. If Garrett wasn't here, then it meant that she—

"He is out checking on his tenants and won't be back until this evening."

Sasha groaned. "This is not a good thing."

"Nevertheless, we must get you ready."

Sasha expelled a deep breath, which seemed to start from her toes. "I suppose I don't actually have a choice then, do I?"

"I'm afraid not." She held out her hands and helped Sasha off of the bed and to a standing position. "I have a proper dress laid out. Let's quickly do something with your hair." Maryann put her arm around Sasha and guided her across the room.

Sasha sat in a chair while Maryann worked her magic on her hair. Before she knew it, her hair was brushed and fixed in a bun at the nape of her neck. Not Sasha's best look, but they were in a hurry and it wasn't as if she would be trying to impress the man anyway. She just wanted to get the visit over with and scoot him out the door.

Maybe she could meet him in the parlor with the cat and offer to let him hold Douglas on his lap? No, it would be cruel, since he had an obvious affliction when around the animals. She sighed. Might as well get to it. If she were lucky, Garrett would come home early and save her. But it wasn't likely to happen.

After Maryann had helped her dress, they descended the stairs with care. Sasha kept one hand gripped on the banister and the other linked with Maryann's. The maid had agreed to be the chaperone. One, because it was necessary, and two, to keep Sasha from doing what she
wanted
to do, and throw Douglas at Lord Phillbush's straggly hair.

Sasha's visitor stood as soon as they entered the parlor. Although it took him three tries to get his pudgy self lifted from the chair. Sasha waited, hands clasped together, as she watched him teeter back and forth.

Once firmly on his feet, Lord Phillbush grinned. "Ah, the lovely Miss Douglas. How wonderful to see you. I trust you are well?" He bowed at the waist, the seams of his pants threatening to burst from the effort. His lips pursed in a semblance of a kiss, but they never completely closed together. His buckteeth wouldn't allow it. Instead, his lips only partially covered them, like a turtle's shell over its head.

Sasha grimaced at the top of Phillbush's head, waiting for him to end the slurpy kiss to her glove. How repulsive! Having him kiss her, on her glove or anywhere else on her person, made her stomach roil.

When he stood, his face was flushed, resembling a ripe strawberry. Sasha knew she needed to say something, but wasn't sure what. She'd never done this before! "Well… thank you?"

Lord Phillbush kept hold of her hand, patting the back of it with his other hand as he tugged her toward the settee. Helping her to sit down, he waited while she smoothed out her skirt before sitting down on the opposite end, a proper distance away.

Now what?
She cleared her throat and glanced at Maryann, who sat in a chair in a far corner. Maryann raised her eyebrows and nodded her head. Did that mean Sasha was supposed to say something? "Um… well… lovely weather we're having, don't you think, my lord?"

He beamed, his lips spreading open over his top teeth, and giggled. "Why, yes! It has been most agreeable." He made it sound as if she'd said something fascinating.

Sasha waited for him to say something else. Nothing. He peered at her with beady eyes, his head tilted slightly to one side. She'd been so focused before on his teeth and hair, she hadn't noticed his large, protruding ears. Why did he make Sasha think of a quizzical mouse?

What she wouldn't give to let Douglas do a little mouse-hunting right about then. She took a deep breath. "So… how have you been, my lord?"

He nodded before he even spoke. "Fine. Wonderful. Can't complain."

Why did she have to ask all the questions? She didn't know enough about him to have many ideas for conversation. She frowned. What else was there to say? "How are your…"
Think, Sasha
… "horses?"

"Pardon, Miss Douglas?"

"Your horses. The ones pulling your carriage." She shrugged. This wasn't going well. "How are they?"

"Oh, marvelous. Just marvelous."

This was torture! How did ladies who were actually looking for a husband do it? Certainly some of them would have many suitors and would have to have several calls from each one.

Wait. Suitor? No… no. She couldn't. Wouldn't. With him? No! But how to get out of this visit with the bucktoothed mouse? She angled her head toward Maryann, pleading with her eyes for the maid to do something. Anything. But Maryann wasn't watching her. At that moment, she was facing the window. And her eyes were only half-open. Was she falling asleep?

Sasha coughed loudly, rousing Maryann and gaining her attention. Raising her eyebrows at the maid, she willed the other woman to help her.
Please!

Something grabbed her hand. Startled, Sasha yelped. She glanced down. Oh. It was Phillbush. He'd taken possession of her hand. Again. Would he give it back?

He leaned forward, almost toppling toward her. She widened her eyes. How horrible it would be! She had no desire for him to end up in her lap. He blinked. "Are you well, my lady?"

"Um, yes."

"I feared you'd taken ill."

She shook her head. "No. I'm fine." At least if she'd been taken ill, she'd be taken away from him!

"Well, you… coughed. And I, well…"

Such an occurrence was what it took to prompt him to ask her a question? A cough? If she'd known a medical condition was required, she would have faked convulsions, gotten the conversation over with, and kicked him out the front door. "I must have had something caught in my throat."

"And what a lovely throat it is."

Did he just utter those words out loud?
"Uh…"

Lord Phillbush scooted closer to her on the settee. He still had her hand. She was beginning to fear never getting it back. "Let me be frank, my dear."

You can be anyone you want, just go away!
"I—"

"You see, Miss Douglas, I am in need of a wife. So I don't want to waste a lot of time with trying to get to know one another before the marriage. There will be plenty of time for such after the wedding."

"What? After the—?" She yanked her hand free of his, scrunching her nose in distaste when moisture worked its way through the glove. Whether it was from his earlier sloppy kiss or his sweaty hands, she didn't know, but had no desire for it to continue.

Phillbush leaned toward her. "My dear, I own a beautiful estate. You'll be happy there, I assure you."

She held up a finger. "But—"

"And Mother."

Sasha frowned. "Pardon?"

"Mother lives with me. You'll adore her. It only takes a few weeks to get used to her laugh."

"Her—"

"Some say she sounds like an angry hyena. Never having heard one, angry or not, I wouldn't know. I will admit that she does have a boisterous laugh. Quite loud, in fact." He patted her hand. "But it will be all right. You'll cease being startled by it after the first few times you hear it."

"Well, I—"

"Oh, dear. I've been remiss."

"You have?"

"I've forgotten to ask the most important question."

Oh, dear. Was he going to propose? Here? Now? "But—"

"You are not the owner of that
cat
, are you?"

Too stunned by the turn of the conversation to answer, Sasha shook her head.

"Splendid. Mother will be so pleased. She can't abide the furry rodents, either. And she's not even sensitive to them."

Sasha blinked and glanced toward Maryann. She lowered her eyebrows as she stared at her maid. Why wasn't she doing something to make the strange little man go away? Sasha squinted her eyes toward the other woman. Was she…? Blast it all, the woman was asleep! "
Maryann!
"

The maid snorted awake and peered around the room. "Huh? Wha—?" She widened her eyes. "Oh, I—"

Sasha stood while leaning on the arm of the settee. "Yes, Maryann is right."

Lord Phillbush teetered to stand as well. "But I didn't hear her say—"

"Yes, she's quite right. We, uh, I have another… engagement this evening and must get ready." She eyed Maryann again.

Maryann finally snapped out of her sleepy state. "Yes, Miss Douglas is right. We must get ready. Now. Let me show you to the door, Lord Phillbush."

He frowned and shrugged. "Well, if it's how it must be."

Sasha pointed toward the door, hoping he'd take the hint. "Oh, it must. It truly must."

Phillbush once again bowed and took her hand, placing a wet kiss on her glove. Sasha winced, certain the gloves would now need to be burned or buried. Or both.

"Very well, Miss Douglas. Soon, then."

"Soon?"

"I shall visit you very soon, my sweet."

"Oh, but…"

Phillbush followed Maryann, toddling through the doorway. Sasha collapsed on the settee as soon as she heard the front door click shut.

Maryann hurried back into the room. "Oh, Miss Douglas, I am so, so sorry."

Sasha held up her hand. "It's all right. I know it wasn't on purpose. But since we know his intentions, what do we do now?"

****

Garrett rode his horse toward the stable block. He didn't mind seeing to his tenants' needs, but now that Sasha was at his house, he hated to leave. It was as if bright sunlight had suddenly appeared the day he'd brought her home. Had his life been so devoid of happiness before then? He sighed. Yes, it had. Now he looked forward to each day. What conversations might they have? What special moments would they share? It mattered not whether they held hands, or simply sat next to each other in the garden or his study. As long as they were together.