A Rake's Reward

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

I am very sorry to tell you that you were right to be concerned, Deanna,” Lord Alton said, as he followed Sara into the room and then walked past her toward her aunt.

“What do you mean?” Aunt Deanna’s gaze slipped behind him to Sara. “Oh, my word! Sara, what has happened to you? You are filthy!”

Sara had tried to tuck in a lock of her hair, which had fallen from its pins, but within a moment, it once again hung by the side of her face. A glance down at her dress showed exactly what she expected—it was speckled with dirt and there was even a slight tear at the hem. “I’m afraid I, er, fell from my horse,” she admitted. “Well, I was thrown, actually,” she corrected herself.

“Alton?” her aunt asked, turning to her friend for perhaps a more complete answer.

“She was sitting on the ground in the middle of the road when I came upon her. He was next to her,” Lord Alton answered.

“No!” Lady Darlington’s hand flew to her mouth.

Lord Alton just nodded.

The two of them exchanged a meaningful look.

“Who is he?” Sara asked, looking from one to the other.

“Are you all right? Were you hurt?” Aunt Deanna asked, coming over and giving Sara’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine. But who is this viscount?”

“You really should go and get changed, my dear. You poor thing. You must be in shock,” her aunt said, releasing her and moving toward the bell pull.

The footman came in almost immediately, making Sara wonder if he hadn’t been listening at the door.

“Draw a bath for Miss Whately and have it taken to her room,” her aunt ordered.

The man gave a nod and went off to do as he was told without even a glance in Sara’s direction. She felt as if she were invisible. Her aunt wasn’t answering any of her questions and even the footman was avoiding looking at her.

“Aunt Deanna,” Sara started.

“How soon do you think you can be ready to remove to London?” Lord Alton asked, cutting her off.

Her aunt looked at him, clearly calculating in her mind. “No less than three or four days. You know how long it takes me to get organized to make such a move.”

“If you need help organizing, I would be happy to help,” Sara offered. She did so want to be useful—and maybe if she offered her aunt assistance she might find out what was going on.

Her aunt finally looked at her. “Do you know anything about household management?”

Sara was affronted. “Of course! I’ve been managing my father’s house since I was eight.”

“When your mother died, was there no one to help?” her aunt asked, looking stricken.

“Not really. Abigail, our maid, helped. In fact, she taught me everything I know. But no, there was no one else. Papa refused help from all of my mother’s friends. I think he thought he could manage…”

“What a ridiculous man!” her aunt exclaimed.

Sara had thought him ridiculous too many times to count, but she loved him nonetheless.

“And so you’ve managed everything since you were a child?” Lady Darlington asked.

Sara just nodded. “And I would be more than happy to help you prepare to move to London.”

“That would be perfect. Thank you,” Lord Alton said, as if it were up to him to decide.

“Oh, yes, Sara. I can’t tell you how much I would appreciate…”

“With your help, I’m sure your aunt will be able to remove to London within… two days?” Lord Alton asked, raising his eyebrows toward Lady Darlington.

She gave a little squeak of dismay but nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Perhaps, with Sara’s help…”

“I’ll just get cleaned up and then come back down to assist you, ma’am.” Sara gave her aunt a small curtsey. She then turned to Lord Alton. “And thank you, sir, for giving me a ride back. I truly appreciated it.”

“Not at all. I was very glad to be of service,” he said, giving her fatherly smile.

Sara left the room but didn’t move far from the door. Instead, she took a quick glance up and down the hall to make sure it was empty. She then crouched down and pressed her ear to the keyhole. Oh, she felt awful for being so sneaky, but she was certain there was no other way for her to find out what was going on. It was clear her aunt wasn’t going to do anything so simple as tell her.

“You are certain it was him?” Sara heard her aunt ask Lord Alton.

“Yes. Absolutely. He’s aged a bit, naturally. But it was most definitely him.”

“Oh, Justin, what are we to do?” Her aunt’s voice grew fainter. She must have moved away from the door.

“Exactly as I said. Leave for London as quickly as possible. If he is in the neighborhood—you know where—then it would be best if you were not.”

“Yes. You are right. I don’t… Well, I don’t know what I would do if I actually had to face him. Speak to him.”

“You would remain civil and polite as you always are. I have faith in that, if nothing else. I just wonder what he would say to you.”

“Well, I’m sure—”

The sound of someone clearing their throat nearly made Sara lose her balance. She looked up to see Mrs. Liven shaking her head. Luckily, she didn’t give her away by saying anything out loud.

Sara stood and walked as quickly as possible past the woman and then up the stairs to her room. She hoped the woman wouldn’t say anything to her aunt.

Half an hour later, Sara dunked her head under the cooling water of her bath in order to rinse out the soap Abigail had messaged into her hair. When she came back up, she said, “If we are removing to London as quickly as possible, I’ve got to get over to Wyncort today.”

“Now, Sara, wasn’t the incident this morning enough to tell you that perhaps this isn’t a good idea?”

“No,” she said, “No. It wasn’t. It was just an accident. And to be completely honest, it was as much my fault as it was his.”

Abigail raised her eyebrows at this.

“I should not have been riding down the center of the road, although I was doing so in order to ensure that no one passed me without my being completely aware of it.”

Abigail laughed. “Well, I think you were aware of it.”

Sara had to laugh too. “Yes, I was.” She then continued with her thought, “And the vexatious viscount was at fault too for taking that turn much too fast.”

“But what was he doing on the road to Wyncort?” Abigail asked.

Sara frowned at her friend and maid. “I don’t know. I wish I did. Is it possible that the road to Wyncort goes to somewhere else as well?”

Abigail shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose it must.”

“Yes…” Sara thought about this. The road she’d been on wasn’t a private drive. “There are a number of estates that branch off of it. Both Darlington and Wyncort lay to the south of the road, so perhaps he was going to an estate that lay to the north.”

Abigail responded by pushing herself up off the floor and getting Sara’s towel, which was warming by the fire.

“I think first thing tomorrow morning,” Sara said, looking to see how wrinkled her fingers were from the water.

“Must you?” Abigail asked. “Must you go there? You know your father didn’t want you to do so.”

“My father has no faith in my grandfather, and for a writer, absolutely no imagination.”

“Either that or you’ve got too much of both,” Abigail said under her breath.

“Perhaps,” Sara agreed with a smile before dropping her shift over her head.