For Love of the Earl (4 page)

"Excuse me," said a soft voice behind her.
 

Sarah whipped around, nearly sending the wreath of orange blossoms catapulting off of her head and beheld the most beautifully exquisite man she had ever laid eyes on.
 
His visage instantly made her want to smooth her hair and check to see if the sash of her dress was straight.
 
Her gaze traveled down the length of him and back up, seeing but not really understanding what she was seeing.
 
She had never seen a more perfect man in her life.
 
He was tall and broad shouldered certainly, but his blue eyes were intense and his smile only flickered on his face, begging attention in case one would miss when it would blossom into a full, all out smile.
 
His face was all angles, shadows and light, intoxicating in their make up.
 
She wanted to run her fingers along his jaw line just to feel the stubble there.
 

"Yes?" Sarah asked, although it really didn't come out entirely.
 
"Yes?" she tried again.
 

"I thought we should perhaps meet before...the, uh, the ceremony," he said, his voice smooth even with the apparent stalls in his sentence.

She could forgive him the stutters in his speech not only on account of his handsome qualities but also on account of the fact that he, too, was being forced to wed a complete stranger at a moment's notice.
   

"Of course," Sarah said, automatically extending her hand, "Sarah Beckham.
 
I'm pleased to meet you, my lord."
 

The earl seemed to hesitate, but Sarah wasn't fully perceiving her surroundings correctly, so she brushed off the hesitation, thinking it only the tension of the moment that had also stuttered his speech.

"My lord?" he asked.
 

Or perhaps maybe he was just simple.
 
In which case, Sarah would be mightily disappointed that such a visage was wasted on someone such as this.
 

"Yes, my lord.
 
You are the Earl of Stryden, aren't you?" she asked.

The man hesitated again, but then that flickering smile spread into a full one, and Sarah had to gulp in breath to remain upright.
 

"Yes, I
am
the Earl of Stryden, but please, call me, Alec.
 
I'm sure I would want you to," he said, his voice washing over her in a lovely caress.
 

There was something about his sentence that Sarah thought she should think odd, but his hand slipped into hers before she could fully process it.
 
His grip was firm and gentle all at once, and her brain scrambled in her head to keep up.

"And the pleasure is all mine," he whispered, bringing her hand up to his lips.
 

All coherent thought fled Sarah's mind.
 
The heat of his lips burned clear through the satin of her gloves.
 
Her stomach clenched, and she almost swallowed her tongue when she tried to speak.
 
Perhaps she should leave the speaking to the earl.
 

"I hope this hasty affair does not offend you," the earl was saying.
 

Sarah shook her head negatively.
 

"I know the War Office can be quite abrupt in their intentions."
 

Sarah only nodded.
 

"Are you sure you're all right, Miss Beckham?"
 

The earl's face had taken on a charming concerned expression.
 
Sarah felt herself leaning into it, felt her head tipping back, raising her lips to just the right level to-
 

She straightened so abruptly the orange blossoms slid down the side of her head.
 
She shoved them back into place and clenched her toes in her slippers in order to force herself to stay rooted in reality.
 

"Yes, I'm quite all right, my lord.
 
I hope that you are all right as well.
 
That is, I mean, I hope this arrangement doesn't displease you."
 

She had spoken to enough earls in the past to not start tripping up now, but then again none of those earls had been hers.
 
Hers.
 
Yes, it was only because the War Office had obligingly dropped him in her lap, but the fact was this beautiful specimen was soon to be
hers
.
 

The earl seemed to think on his answer longer than Sarah would have thought necessary.
 
And it was that brief moment of hesitation that had her euphoric bubble bursting.
 
No matter the circumstances, she was certain the earl still thought of her as only an illegitimate offspring with no title or heritage.
 

"Yes, the arrangement is more than agreeable," the earl finally said.
 

The earl was smartly dressed in solid black, which might have been odd considering the fashions of the day, but she was not one to judge how noblemen dressed.
 
His dark hair fell over his brow in what would probably have been called a dashing manner.
 
His skin was slightly tan, as if a hat never protected his face.
 
There were faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
 
His nose was slightly crooked as if it had been broken once.
 
And his expression was sheepish.
 

Sheepish?
 

"My lord,-"

"Ooo, you two have met! Brilliant!"
 

Sarah braced herself as a woman in a magnificent red dress swooped in from the nave.
 
It was the Duchess of Lofton, Jane Black, and the earl's stepmother if Sarah remembered correctly.
 
The duchess was by all standards beautiful, especially considering she was on the other side of fifty.
 
Fine lines were just starting to work their way into her features, features that were neither delicate nor strong but commandeered attention none the less.
   

Sarah nodded her head, rattling her orange blossoms.
 
"Yes, your grace, we have met."
 

The earl reached out and threw an arm around the duchess, laughing rather obnoxiously.
 

"Oh yes, we have met, Jane.
 
Me and Sarah, here.
 
Me, being Alec, and her, being Sarah.
 
You know?"
 
the earl said.
 

He laughed that obnoxious laugh again, and Sarah wanted to itch her ears.
 
Good Lord, she hoped he didn't laugh like that all the time.
 
She wasn't sure if she could stand it.
 

The duchess looked up at the earl.
 
"What are you talking about?"
 

"I'm just talking about me, the good ol' Earl of Stryden."
 

The duchess nodded.
 

"Would you excuse us, please?" she said to Sarah, and Sarah automatically nodded, unsure as to what was going on.
 

The two walked away from her toward the hallway that led off to the stairs up to the choir loft.
 
Their heads were together, whispers passing between them.
 
Then the duchess let out a bright
Oh, dear!
and swung back around toward Sarah.
 

And then the duchess laughed that same, loud obnoxious laugh.
 

What was going on here?
 

"Of course, of course," the duchess said, striding back toward Sarah with her arm through the Earl of Stryden's, "Of course, you were talking about him being the earl and all that.
 
Now, is everything all right, dear?
 
Is there anything you would like changed?"
 

The duchess made a gesture, and Sarah wasn't sure if she was gesturing to the church or the world at large.
 
Depending on the scope of the gesture, Sarah's ideas of what needed changed varied drastically.
 

"No, everything is lovely," Sarah said, her voice having lost its will to leave her mouth, her mind so befuddled with the tableau before her.
 

"Splendid," the duchess said, much too brightly for Sarah.
 

"Oh, yes, everything is splendid," the earl concurred.
 

"Everything is splendid!" the duchess said again.
 

Sarah moved her head back and forth between them, and then somebody slapped her back.
 
She almost fell off her feet with the impact.
 

"Yes, everything is splendid!" said a loud, booming voice almost in her ear.
 

Sarah forced herself not to cringe and looked up to find the source of the voice.
 
It was the Duke of Lofton, looking striking as ever and incredibly similar to his son.
 

"And I see you've met-"

"The Earl of Stryden," the duchess and earl said together.
 

Sarah was not ignorant in the matter of suspicious behaviors.
 
She knew when something fishy was going on.
 
In the orphanage, she had always been the first to know when they would not be getting their evening porridge.
 
She had always warned the other children to fill up at the noon meal.
 
Sensing something was amiss now was something even an amateur could have figured out.

But the Duke of Lofton did not hesitate a moment.
 

"Yes, the Earl of Stryden.
 
My son," he said, moving to put an arm around the earl's shoulders.
 
The earl still had his arm through the duchess's, and all three smiled so brightly it hurt Sarah's head.
 

"What's going on?" Sarah asked, putting her hands to her hips and smashing the small bouquet of posies she held in her hand.
     

"Nothing," the three said together.
 

Sarah looked into the church as organ music began to play.
 
The guests grew restless in their pews, and the priest shifted from foot to foot at the altar.
 
She looked back at the duchess, the earl, and the duke and decided she'd have to figure it all out later.
 

"It looks like we must get started," she said.
 

The three nodded together but didn't move.

"Shall we?" Sarah asked, gesturing toward the church with all the waiting people.
 

"Yes!" The duchess all but shouted, dragging the men with her into the church.
 

The three walked slowly down the aisle.
 
Slowly.
 
Slowly.
 
Sarah watched them feeling her suspicions grow.
 
There was something going on, and she was going to find out what it was.
 

Sarah waited for the earl to reach the altar and the duchess and the duke to take their seats.
 
She started down the aisle and realized quite suddenly that she was nervous.
 
She saw the earl standing so calmly in front of all these people when her insides were dancing jigs around her skeleton.
 
How could he be so calm?
 
Of course, he probably had vast experience interacting with the likes of the people that were staring so scrupulously at her.
 
She had never had that experience.
 

It was true that the woman who had taken her out of the orphanage in The City had been wealthy, but she had also been a recluse.
 
Sarah had only been out in society once really, and well, that was a disaster she tried not to remember.
 
It had been a country house party at the Duke of Kent's, and Sarah had made a complete fool of herself.
 
Not that it really mattered.
 
She doubted anyone remembered.
 

But as she drew closer to the Earl of Stryden, she was reminded of how pitifully inadequate she was to be his wife.
 
Not only in breeding but in experience.
 
She just hoped to God that she did not fall in love with him.
 

She had almost reached the steps up to the altar when the doors to the church flew open and banged loudly against the walls.
 
The wind rushed in, forcing women to clamp onto their hats lest they fly away.
 
A few not so quick women did manage to lose their hats and now were scrambling to get them, fearing to remain in such an impolite state for so long.
   

And then somebody stumbled through those doors.
 
He was partially dressed, his collar hanging around his neck, his waistcoat open, and his breeches only half done up.
 

And he was singing.

"Today is the fateful day when I marry my Lady Mady!
 
And if she says she'll be my wife, I'll love her for all my life!"

He tripped on the next down beat and rolled down part of the carpet covering the aisle.
 
He sprang up though, greeting people in the various pews.
 

"'Ello,'ello.
 
Look at all of ye!
 
Kind enough to show up at...show up at..."
 

He spun around and sent himself careening into the opposite set of pews.
 

"This is my wedding, isn't it?"

His face ended up in a woman's hat that was overflowing with flowers.
 
The man proceeded to smell everyone.
 

"Oh, lovely!
 
Oh, love-lee!" he squealed and spun around once more, gaining a few steps on the aisle.