The Affectionate Adversary (15 page)

“If you please, madam,” Anne spoke up, “may I suggest that perhaps Mr. Locke has come to apologize. You told me how he had offended you, and it would be proper for him to ask for your forgiveness.”

Sarah shook her head. “Charles Locke may have come to make amends, but it is not of his own volition. Lord Delacroix conspired with my sisters to force the man to publicly confess all his wrongdoings. I have heard them plotting, for they have conducted all their schemes in my presence.”

“Schemes?” Anne asked.

“Delacroix declares that Mr. Locke must be
made
to apologize. Prudence concurs. She believes that if I forgive him, then I will be more cheery. Mary thinks that Mr. Locke ought to be thrown in jail—”

“Oh, dear! His offense cannot be as bad as that, can it?” The maid swallowed and lowered her head. “Forgive me, my lady. I should not have interrupted.”

Aware of the devastating effect that Anne’s father’s imprisonment had had on that family, Sarah took the young woman’s hand. “No, no. It is all right. My sister Mary is always too quick to censure. I have prevailed upon everyone to be sensible. I shall be well enough, I assure you, once I am on my way to India again.”

“Yes, madam. I shall send for your sister.”

The maid’s expression told Sarah that Anne felt exactly as everyone else did. The very notion that Sarah would return to the Orient had sent her sisters into a greater furor than ever before. Now Charles Locke had been dragged to Belgravia to humble himself before her. As Anne hurried out the door to make certain that Prudence was settled in the drawing room with the gentlemen, Sarah dropped to her knees by the chair near the wardrobe. Taking the filmy pink shawl into her hands, she bowed her head and pressed the lace fabric against her eyes.

“Make me an instrument of Thy peace, dear Lord,” she prayed. “Help me to forgive Charles, if he has come for that purpose. And please make him go away again quickly, for I have withstood him as long as I possibly can. As for Pru and Mary and Delacroix, Father, please help them to understand that I do not take away the money to do harm but to bring joy. Let them understand that earthly wealth means nothing, but that all our treasures must be laid up in heaven. In the holy name of Jesus, I pray, amen.”

She made to rise but sank down once again. “If he looks handsome, Father, can You please help me not to notice, for I am very lonely without him, and I have missed our conversations terribly, and I know that You wish me to be satisfied with You alone, which I am trying to do. But I must tell You, it is very hard when he looks at me with his blue eyes … and his very nice mouth … and—”

“Lady Delacroix? Oh, pardon me, madam!” Anne began backing out of the dressing room.

“It is all right, Anne. I am coming now.” Sarah rose, gathered her skirts, adjusted the brown shawl, and hurried toward the door. “Is my sister in the drawing room?”

“She is, my lady. And the two gentlemen. Mr. Locke is fearful dashing, if I may say so, madam. Were I you, I should wear the pink shawl.”

Sarah paused. Then she drew the brown shawl closer around her shoulders and stepped into the corridor.

The moment she entered the drawing room, Charles knew he was lost to her again. Mrs. Sarah Carlyle had returned. Dressed in a plain shawl, a simple white gown, and a pair of kidskin slippers, she gave little indication that there ever had been a Lady Delacroix. How beautiful she was. How gentle and lovely and perfect.

As she stepped forward to greet him, Charles could hardly restrain himself. One look into her soft brown eyes, and he would fail in his mission. A touch of her fingertips, and once again he would fall to his knees and beg her to marry him.

Hang Lady Delacroix and the money and society and every other obstacle that stood in their way! Let him hold her and love her and cherish her forever!

“Good afternoon, Mr. Locke,” she said, dipping a slight curtsy. “I see you have discovered Trenton House. You are welcome, of course.”

Hardly giving him a glance, she headed for the settee upon which her sister sat, and Charles found himself bowing to thin air. On her way across the room, Sarah tipped her head at Lord Delacroix, who also made an empty bow, and then she seated herself so close to Miss Watson that their shoulders touched. Picking up an embroidery hoop, Sarah took the needle and began to stitch a monogram as though her very life depended upon its completion.

“I made so bold as to invite Mr. Locke to accompany me in calling upon you,” Delacroix spoke up. “He informed me that he wished to speak to you, madam.”

Sarah’s brow furrowed as she focused upon her embroidery. “I did not know the two of you had become such fast friends. Upon our last conversation, Lord Delacroix, you said you had never met Mr. Locke.”

In the ensuing silence, Charles knew he could keep still no longer. “Lord Delacroix called at my house for the first time today,” he told her. “He made clear that I had caused you pain with my words at Lord Marston’s reception, Mrs…. Lady Delacroix. I felt I must express my regret to you in person.”

“I see,” she said, awarding him with a brief glance and the hint of a smile. “How very kind. I accept your apology, Mr.Locke, if indeed that is what it is. There. I do hope we may not keep you overlong, for I believe you must be a busy man. Mary comes to tea, does she not, sister? I wonder what can be keeping her.”

Charles knew he had been dismissed. So, that was the end of it. Sarah had no feeling left for him, and she wanted him out of her house and her life. He could hardly blame her, and it was no wonder she felt angry.

But he was wrong there, Charles realized. Sarah’s anger had been vented at the reception, and now he merited only her cold disdain. He should go.

Yet Delacroix had commissioned him with a task. He was to mollify Sarah. Calm her. And then talk reason to her. He must try to convince her to abandon her goal of spending all her father’s money on missionary endeavors. But how could he proceed? She refused even to look at him.

“Mr. Locke, my sister tells us that you and she had many conversations aboard the
Queen Elinor
,” Miss Watson said in an affable tone. “I understand you were very friendly together.”

“She was of great assistance to me,” Charles confirmed, feeling as though they were speaking of someone absent from the room. “I should never have recovered without your assistance, Lady Delacroix.”

Sarah stitched in silence, swallowing now and then as if something were lodged in her throat. Charles could hardly make himself sit still any longer. Obviously he could have no influence on her, and she was wishing him gone with every fiber of her being.

“Were you not to have your arm amputated if not for my sister?” Miss Watson spoke up. “I think it very good of you to save it for him, Sarah.”

“Leg,” Sarah muttered. “It was his leg.”

“Oh, it was a leg you nearly lost, Mr. Locke! Even worse!”

Miss Watson let out a breath. “I cannot imagine losing any part of myself. I should go mad at once. I am fond of riding, you know, Mr. Locke, and I believe it must be quite impossible if one were missing bits and pieces of oneself. Do you like riding, sir?”

“Yes, madam. It is a favorite occupation of mine.”

“Well, then! We must all go into the country and stay a week or two at your estate, Delacroix. We could ride, make picnics, and take long walks. I can think of nothing I should like more than to visit Bamberfield House. What do you say to it, Sarah?”

“I am much occupied at the moment, sister,” she answered. “This morning I booked passage to India. My departure is less than a month from now.”

“Less than a month? Sarah, you have hardly been home a fortnight! What can you mean by sailing off again? Do you care so little for us? for Mary and me?”

“You know I adore you both, Pru,” she spoke in a low voice. “I have settled you very well, and now I must see to other tasks.”

“Do you suppose that all we want from you is a settlement?” By now, Miss Watson had raised herself to a fine flurry of emotion. Her bright pink cheeks and sparkling eyes fairly glowed. “You are the only sister that Mary and I have besides each other, and we cannot bear to see you go away again so soon!”

“You have many friends,” Sarah said.

“But we want you! Speak to her, Delacroix. Tell her she cannot go!”

“I am hardly in a position to order your sister about,” Delacroix said. “But I do understand Miss Watson’s dismay. By departing after such a short stay, my lady, you deprive our society of its finest ornament.”

“Oh, good heavens, Delacroix,” Sarah cried. “What is it you want of me? Have I not settled enough upon my sisters? Or do you feel yourself bereft of income, too? Very well, then, I shall speak to my solicitor directly and see that you are given enough per annum to live comfortably. But do not flatter and cajole or I—”

“Madam, I believe your sister is sincere in what she says,” Charles broke in. Unable to bear Sarah’s distress and ill humor any longer, he stood. “At Lord Marston’s reception, I observed Miss Watson for some time, and I believe her attentiveness toward you is due to honest affection. She is younger than you by several years, and she has neither mother to instruct her nor father to guide her path. Her sister, Mrs.Heathhill, is much occupied with her husband and home, as any good wife must be. If Miss Watson begs you to stay in England, her desire arises from a sincere need for your assistance and company.”

“Mr. Locke,” Sarah said, rising from the settee, “you know my sister far less well than I do, and her motives cannot be understood by you in the least.”

“I know that both she and Lord Delacroix are greatly concerned about your state of unhappy restlessness. When I saw you last, your agitation was obvious.”

“And why not? You were abusing me to my face, sir!”

“For that I have voiced regret, and you have forgiven me. Or so I thought.”

She pursed her lips and looked away.

Charles took a step toward her. “Madam, I realize I offended you greatly that evening and without reason. By your appearance and air at the reception, I misjudged you. I condemned you. I sentenced you. And I took it upon myself to exact your punishment. It was wrong of me, and if my apology has been inadequate, I make it again. Forgive me, please.”

Sarah turned away and walked to the window. “I have forgiven you, sir. Now you are no longer needed here.”

“Perhaps not needed, but Lord Delacroix called upon me because I am wanted. Neither he nor your two loving sisters can understand the passion that drives you. They have some little hope that I may be able to assist in the situation, for they are greatly concerned for your safety. For your health. For your well-being.”

“For my money!” she hissed, swinging around. “That is what they want. That is what everyone wants. You most of all, I do not doubt. Now that you know who I am, you see a way to finance your tea scheme. Well, I shall not do it, sir. The money is God’s, and to Him it will go!”

“Do see reason, madam,” Charles implored, crossing to her. “No one wishes to rob you. No one wants to take away what duly belongs to God. But here in England are many destitute and hungry people. The ill and needy throng the streets of London and languish in poorly heated cottages throughout the countryside. Build schools in this country, dear lady. See to the needs of the blind and lame in England. Do not take the joy of your presence from those who love you so very dearly. As for Miss Watson, her need for your wisdom and guidance is great indeed. Can you at all accept my words?”

She held up a hand to stop his approach. “Stand back from me, sir. I hear you, of course. But I trust you no more than I trust any other man.”

“What have I done to make you doubt me so? Aboard ship, I frankly told you all my feelings. I did the same the night of the reception. On both occasions, I misunderstood certain aspects of your identity. But I have never mistaken your true character. Nor have you been misled in mine. Why do you distrust me, then?”

She faced him. “How can I not? I know your true motives. You made your choice, Mr. Locke. You chose your tea company.”

Feeling as though he had been struck once again by a musket ball, Charles bowed his head. “I did.”

“And you would choose it again.”

He nodded. “I confess, I would. I believe it is a man’s duty to employ himself usefully and productively. For myself, I have always held to the worthy aim of building a successful trade. I should be ashamed to sit idly by while others labor to better themselves. Nor could I endure the disgrace of reducing myself to poverty. God gave me these hands, this mind, and the will to work. To the best of my ability, I shall strive to establish a successful enterprise, increase my material worth, provide for myself and my family, and one day leave behind a substantial legacy. I cannot deny it, nor shall I make any attempt to deceive you in that regard. My statements on the
Queen Elinor
were honest and, I believe, honorable. I have not changed.”