The Seduction of Sara (13 page)

The silence lengthened, then turned heavy with desire. Overhead, a cascade of light danced across the velvet sky, dusting the silence with a faint crackle.

The voices on the pathway sounded again, this time closer. Nick dropped his hand and stepped back. The look he gave her was so intense that she
blinked. “You owe me, Sara Lawrence, and I will not forget it.” With a swift bow, he turned and disappeared down the path.

Her heart pounding an irregular beat, she watched him go. It was a damned shame the Earl of Bridgeton was not interested in marriage.

Sara slowly walked out of the maze, away from the sound of the voices. Her plan was quickly unraveling. Potential husbands were not as easy to find as she'd thought they would be, especially with Anthony now doing his damnedest to keep the field as barren as possible.

Sara wrapped her arms about her as she stepped out onto the hill, the cool evening breeze toying with the edge of her skirt. Despite her determination to stay away from Bridgeton, he had proven himself invaluable again. And now she did indeed owe him.

Perhaps Bridgeton was still her answer—surely he knew some men who would fit her purposes. The idea made her smile. It would serve the earl right if she used him to glean the name of a potential husband or two. The only thing that gave her pause was what he'd ask for compensation for such a favor. Hm…what if he wanted her to—

“Sara!”

She looked up to see Anthony bearing down on her, frustration and anger in his face.

Whatever the cost, Sara needed Bridgeton's help—and the sooner, the better.

T
he morning after the Fairfax spectacle, Anna arrived at Aunt Delphi's town house as Sara had instructed. Dressed in her best walking dress of white muslin adorned with a new lace collar, Anna was as fashionable as her limited wardrobe allowed. She didn't possess the resources Sara did, and at times she was slightly self-conscious about her appearance.

Not that Anna begrudged her friend the wealth she'd been born to. Grandfather had taught her the pitfalls of wealth, and she was truly glad she was not so burdened. Most of the time, anyway. She fingered the edge of her cuff, pleased to note that her tiny, even stitches were so perfect as to be almost invisible.

Bowing, the butler showed Anna into the front parlor. “Her Grace and Lady Carrington will be down shortly.” With a final dignified bow, he closed the door, leaving Anna blissfully alone in the small morning room.

“Thank you,” Anna said to the air, relaxing as the sound of the servant's even trod faded down the hallway. She wandered aimlessly about the room, enjoying the faint smell of beeswax and the way the bright sunshine filtered into the room to warm away the morning chill. As the minutes grew, Anna, having run an admiring finger over all of the furniture, picked up a novel that had been left out. Sitting in the large chair by the window, she was soon lost in a wonderful world where a much-put-upon heroine fought her evil uncle for control of her fortune.

The sound of the front door slamming echoed through the narrow hall and made her look up with a start. She slapped the book shut and replaced it on the table just as the door opened and Sara's brother walked in. Impeccably dressed in a morning coat of olive green and a waistcoat of deep brown, Anthony Elliot was a sight to behold. His golden brown hair fell over his forehead, warming his eyes to chocolate. Anna had always had a weakness for chocolate.

He halted on seeing her. There was an instant of hesitation, and he turned as if to leave. But just as his hand closed back around the doorknob, he halted, then turned to regard her with a considering gaze. “I beg your pardon, Miss Thraxton. I didn't re
alize you were here.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “But since you are…” He closed the door and advanced into the room with that indolent grace that was all his.

Whether it was due to her awareness of his title and position, or because of his large size, or the lazy, quizzical way he watched her, Anthony Elliot had the ability to make Anna feel like an awkward sixteen-year-old, all elbows and too-large feet. Until she'd met Sara's arrogant brother, it was a feeling she'd thought she'd outgrown.

Annoyed with herself, Anna stood, suddenly unsure of where to put her hands. She dipped a quick curtsy, then made an abrupt gesture toward the settee. “My lord.”

The devil! Was that my voice?
The undignified squeak infuriated her, and she tilted her chin, ready to meet his mockery. Instead he dropped his hat and gloves on a table by the door, then lazily crossed the room and waited until she returned to her chair. Then he folded his long length onto the settee, carefully moving a small table out of the way where it brushed his knee.

He looked ridiculous, like an adult propped in a child's chair. Being of above average height herself, Anna could sympathize. It was awkward always being too tall, though she doubted it was as much of an inconvenience to a man.

Anthony stretched his long legs before him and fixed her with a relentless gaze. “I hope you do not have too arduous a day planned. It looks as if it might rain.”

“Sara and I are accompanying Her Grace to search for a new bonnet.”

“How absorbing,” he drawled, clearly indicating otherwise. “Miss Thraxton, I hope you will forgive me for intruding on you thus, but I have some concerns about my sister, and I feel you are the one who can answer them.”

Anna glanced nervously toward the door. “I'm not sure I know what—”

“You are in my sister's confidence, are you not?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Of course.” Though she couldn't quite tell why, she thought she detected a threatening note in his voice. She wished Sara would hurry.

“Miss Thraxton, I'm sure you are aware that my sister is not happy here in Bath.”

“She has mentioned as much to me.”

“I knew she would,” he returned dryly. “While I am more than content to play nursemaid, it would be easier for us all if you would serve as her good friend in the upcoming months and keep me apprised of her actions.”

Anna stiffened. “Lord Greyley, Sara is like a sister to me, and I do not feel comfortable speaking about her while she is not present. And I certainly would never
spy
on her.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Anthony's face, quickly hidden. He leaned forward, and Anna noted that his eyes were actually the color of cognac, flecked with slivers of green and gold. “Miss Thraxton, I know something is already afoot. I am determined to discover what it is.”

“Then ask Sara. Even if I knew what you were talking about, I would never reveal myself to you.”

Anthony's eyes narrowed. “Listen here. If I discover that my sister is up to something reprehensible and you had prior knowledge of it and did nothing to stop her, I will personally see to it that you pay for your part in her schemes.”

Insolent ass
. “Lord Greyley, anything that your sister says to me in confidence will remain that way, with or without your approval. So do your worst—I really don't care.”

His eyes took on an almost feral gleam. “My dear Anna,” he said, his voice caressing her name as if he alone possessed it. “I would advise you to be cautious where you throw challenges. Someone may just accept one of them.”

“My dearest Lord Greyley,” she replied immediately, mocking his tone so well that his eyes narrowed, “I would advise you to be more cautious in how you speak to a lady. I find your manner so offensive and arrogant that I am quite willing to do whatever I can to thwart you.” Anna met his gaze calmly, though her heart pounded against the base of her throat. She hadn't been her grandfather's assistant for the past seven years for nothing; she knew oppression tactics when she saw them.

Anthony's jaw tightened, and he had just leaned forward to speak, when the door was thrown open and Sara walked energetically into the room dressed in a becoming pink-striped gown with a matching spenser. Anna smiled at the way Sara's presence brightened the room.

“There you are,” Sara said, pulling on her gloves. “Aunt Delphi is getting in the carriage, and—” She stopped. “Anthony, what are you doing here?”

Sending a quelling glance at Anna, he stood. Every movement he made was unhurried and purposeful, and Anna had to control the urge to shiver. “I was just speaking with Miss Thraxton.”

“Oh?” Sara said, obviously suspicious. She glanced from him to Anna and back again. “Were you, indeed? And was your conversation productive?”

He picked up his hat and gloves, turning a hard stare toward Anna. “No. Not this time.”

Anna returned his gaze steadily. It was better all around if he knew where they stood. Which was on very rocky ground indeed. “Good day, Lord Greyley.”

A flash of something lit his eyes to gold, and then his habitual half-asleep expression returned. Anna watched him leave with a sense of relief. He was a formidable man, one who would remember every slight and injury, no matter how accidental or valid they might be.

Sara whirled on Anna. “He wanted to know what I was doing, didn't he?”

“Yes, though I didn't tell him a thing.”

“I could tell that, since he looked like a thunder-cloud.” She linked her arm with Anna's. “Come. Aunt Delphi's already in the carriage.”

It didn't take Anna long to realize that there was far more to the shopping expedition than she'd realized. Sara was alternately in far too high of spirits,
chattering nonstop and making them all laugh, then becoming silent, examining each carriage that went by as if looking for a specific face.

The dowager duchess had a multitude of errands to run. As she entered the lending library to exchange her books, Sara and Anna wandered down the street, peering into store windows. Several stores away, they stood looking at a display of enameled boxes.

Sara gripped Anna's arm. “Drop your reticule.”

Anna looked up from a particularly charming box trimmed in delicate scrollwork. “Drop my what?”

“Don't ask questions!” Sara whispered urgently, turning back toward the window. “Just drop it.”

Mumbling to herself, Anna unlooped her reticule and dropped it on the pavement. A tall shadow crossed her, causing her to shiver.

“Pardon me, but I believe this is yours.”

Anna recognized the low, seductive voice of the Earl of Bridgeton and suddenly understood her friend's odd behavior. “Why, thank you. I didn't even realize it was missing.” She nudged her friend. “Look, Sara, it is the Earl of Bridgeton.”

Eyes wide with feigned surprise, Sara turned toward the earl. “What a pleasant surprise!”

The earl's mouth curved into a heart-thumping grin, the sun burnishing his dark gold hair. From the width of his shoulders to the fine line of his muscular legs, everything about him bespoke male power. Anna sent a glance at Sara from under her lashes and noticed that she hadn't missed a single aspect of the earl's appearance.

Sara dipped a curtsy. “My lord, and how are you this morning?”

“Quite well, Lady Carrington. And you?”

“I'm fine, thank you.”

“And how is Miss Thraxton?” He bowed, slanting Anna a cool, knowing kind of smile. “You really should be more cautious with your valuables.”

“It was an accident,” Sara said. “I've dropped my reticule dozens of times.”

“Come, Lady Carrington,” he protested gently. “Enough of this pretense. You asked me to meet you here, and here I am. What service may I perform for you?”

Cheeks bright, Sara cast a guilty glance at Anna. “Lord Bridgeton, I don't know what you are talking about. I never asked you to meet me here.”

“But I have the note right here, in my waistcoat.” He proceeded to reach into his pocket, but Sara's muffled curse stopped him, his eyes bright with amusement. “What's that? Did you say something, my love?”

“Yes, I did,” Sara answered promptly, eyeing the earl with a strange mixture of exasperation and humor. “And I have not given you permission to call me ‘my love.'”

Anna lifted her brows at that. In the year since Julius's death, Sara had shown no interest in any of the men of her acquaintance. In fact, she hadn't shown much interest in anything other than raising as many eyebrows as she could.

Sara had changed drastically while she was married to Julius. It had taken Anna months to piece to
gether what had happened, most of it from cryptic comments in Sara's letters. Much of what she knew came from what her friend did
not
say. Anna rather thought that Julius's concept of love had been very different from Sara's and she had suffered horribly as a consequence, turning her back on the fiery, exuberant way she'd approached life.

Now, watching her friend glare at the Earl of Bridgeton, her mouth pressed into a mutinous line, Anna experienced the first stirring of hope. Perhaps it was time Sara reclaimed her own life. But was the earl worthy of Sara's regard?

Nick caught sight of Miss Thraxton's speculative look. Smothering a sense of irritation, he looked down the street, his gaze narrowing as he heard a familiar voice. “Ah, Valmont! Just the man I was looking for.”

Edmund Valmont looked up from where he was assisting his great-aunt out of the library. His arms piled with books, a cashmere shawl, a fan, and a small pillow, he blinked uncertainly at Nick. “Looking for me? Haven't offended you, have I? Because if I have, then I didn't mean it. Least, I don't think I did. I once thought about calling you out, but that was years ago. Of course—”

“Edmund,” Nick broke in. “I was just asking Miss Thraxton and Lady Carrington to stroll with me through the park, and we would like to request your company.”

Her back ramrod straight, Sara said, “I don't recall any such conversation.”

Nick lifted a brow. “Yes, but we've already estab
lished you have a faulty memory. After all, you did not remember this.” He touched the pocket that contained her note. “And you wrote it only this morning.”

Sara's smile tightened, and she spoke through clenched teeth. “Perhaps we can find a place to have a more
private
communication.”

“Exactly my point,” he murmured, then turned to Lady Birlington, who was just following Edmund out of the lending library. “Would you be so kind as to give your nephew leave to escort one of these young ladies through the park?”

Lady Birlington came alive at the mention of young ladies. She looked down her nose at first Sara and then Anna, brightening as she did so. “Why, it is Delphinea's niece and her friend, Thraxton's granddaughter. Good hips, the both of 'em. Of course Edmund may go.”

Edmund's mouth opened and closed, then opened again. “But Aunt Maddie! I don't think you want me to be gone for—”

“Nonsense. You'll never find a wife if you stay tied to my side.” Her carriage pulled up to the curb, and her rather elderly footman slowly climbed down and went to open the door. “Just put those things in the carriage for me and go for a walk.”

“But Aunt Maddie, I—”

Sara's aunt bustled out of the lending library next, two books clasped in her hands. She came to a halt when she saw the small group.

Lady Birlington waved her cane. “There you are,
Delphinea. We have just been arranging a small party for the young people. Why don't you come and travel in my carriage while the children walk to the end of the park?”

“Children?” Lady Langtry looked at Nick, her face coloring vividly. “I don't think that would be a very good—”