Her lower lip quivered but she would never give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears. “You are in no position to order me about,” she said. “This is my home and—”
“And your father would be most interested to hear about your nocturnal activities, I am certain,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
He arched a brow. “You think not?” He crossed his arms and moved closer until she felt as though she were shrinking before him. “I promised Max I would look after you, Sarah—”
“Well, consider yourself relieved of that duty,” she snapped. “Max is my brother and even he would not treat me like this.”
“Like a silly fool,” he said, mockery once more lacing his tone and making her blood boil in her veins.
“Child?” she snapped. “Silly fool? I am a grown lady—”
“Then I suggest you behave as such.” He sighed, seemingly bored by this interaction, as though ruining a girl’s dreams was a regular activity for him. As though smashing a lady’s heart was a tedious activity.
Perhaps it was. Judging by the rumors about his romantic dalliances, she suspected breaking hearts was just another trivial pastime for him, like riding or playing cards. Those girls were the fools. Not her.
“I will say this once more, Sarah.” He leaned down slightly and his height and breadth were nothing compared to the intimidating glare he fixed on her. “Go. To. Bed.” His gaze raked over her as he straightened again. “Perhaps you’ll come to your senses in the morning.”
She gave a haughty sniff, but she did as he’d commanded. Not because he’d told her to, or even because she feared that he would see through his threat and tell her father about her failed rendezvous.
No, she would head to her rooms because one moment more and she might lose this fragile control on her emotions and begin to weep. Crying in front of this man was the only thing that could make this night worse.
“Good girl,” he murmured behind as she headed toward the stairs.
She sneered at the darkness ahead of her. Good girl, she mimicked in her head.
Patronizing beast.
But as she climbed the steps to her bedroom, sadness began to replace her anger and exhaustion left her weak and weary.
All she could do now was weep for the lost chance at a farewell.
And after that, there was nothing else to do but wait.
1
Eighteen months later, Christmastide...
Sarah was utterly unprepared to have her world turned upside down. It seemed like a day just like any other, albeit perhaps slightly more harried than usual as her mother prepared for her brother’s nuptials—the wedding of the century.
At least, that was what Sarah’s mother expected Max’s wedding to be.
He and his bride, Marigold, had other ideas.
Sarah stood with both of them at the top of the stairs, watching the goings on below with more than a little amusement. She felt for her brother who was trying his best to keep Mother happy while ensuring that his fiancée was not overwhelmed.
Sarah glanced over at Marigold as she too watched the chaos below. Poor Marigold! Her soon-to-be sister-in-law hated being the center of attention, which was precisely why she and Max were whispering even now about how they might have a small intimate ceremony before their mother’s fete.
“Sarah, dear,” her mother called out from the foyer below. “Did you see what I managed to obtain?” Her mother stood in the midst of a bustle of activity as she shepherded in servants hauling crates and trunks filled with who knew what, all in the name of preparation for the highly anticipated wedding.
She eyed the mountains of crates below. “No, Mother. I missed it in all the freight.”
Marigold choked on a laugh beside her. She was about to burst out laughing as well at the insanity of it all when her mother continued. ““Do you remember that champagne you loved so dearly that we could only get from Mr. Stallworth?”
Sarah’s stomach dropped to her feet at the mention of the name. “Mr. Stallworth?”
“Yes,” her mother continued, seemingly unaware that her daughter was drowning in emotion. “He’s finally back from his trip to Asia…”
Her mother kept talking but the words seemed to echo around her as blood rushed from her head making her dizzy.
“Isn’t that wonderful news?” her mother finished.
“He’s here?” Sarah managed. Her heart was pounding furiously as her mind rushed to keep up. Mr. Stallworth. Her Mr. Stallworth.
He was back?
“What’s that, dear?” Her mother didn’t look up, too busy inspecting boxes.
Sarah’s voice shook. “Mr. Stallworth is here? Now?”
Marigold leaned in toward her. “Are you all right?”
Was she all right? No. Yes! This was...this was the moment she had been hoping for. This was it. Her time had finally come.
After eighteen months of waiting, one might have assumed Sarah’s hopes had withered or her affections had waned.
One would have been wrong.
In fact, in her daydreams, she’d told Everly how wrong he’d been over and over again. Unfortunately, she’d yet to have that opportunity for that conversation in real life. But she would. Someday.
Sarah was no less in love with Mr. Stallworth today then she had been so many months ago when she hadn’t been able to say farewell. Which was why, when her mother mentioned his name so carelessly, so casually…
“He’s down in the kitchen settling the account now,” her mother was saying.
Sarah nearly tripped over her own feet, brushing off Marigold and Max’s questions. “I’ll explain later,” she said, already dashing down the stairs.
He was here! At last!
Dodging servants and merchants delivering goods, she finally reached the kitchen and paused just long enough to take a deep, steadying breath. Her hand to her belly, she braced herself for the joy of seeing the man she loved.
The joy she’d no doubt see in his eyes when he realized she’d waited. For him. And now they could finally be together.
With one more deep breath, she pushed open the door to the kitchens and was met with a world of frenzy even more chaotic than what was currently taking place in the main hall. Servants were everywhere, everyone seemed to be moving quickly, commands were being shouted. Through it all, she stood still and quiet, her gaze darting to and fro to find him. He must have been looking for her, too. He wouldn’t leave without seeing her.
There! Her gaze caught sight of his back just as he reached the door leading to out back in the direction of the stables.
“Wait!”
He did not hear her as she cut through the crowded kitchen, ignoring the questioning looks. It wasn’t as though she were a stranger to the kitchen, but it was hardly common for the sister to the marquess to run recklessly through the house, nor had she ever been known to chase down a merchant.
She temporarily forgot that she was supposed to be a proper young lady with decent manners. She forgot about decorum completely when she reached the door he’d gone through and stumbled through it herself, climbing awkwardly over the stacked crates waiting to be brought inside as her skirts caught on the edges, her feet slipping in the melting snow.