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Authors: Susannah Merrill

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BOOK: Captives' Charade
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As she grew, he urged her to take an interest in his business affairs. She learned much about the running of the estate, not to mention the duchy, and eventually was able to offer intelligent opinions. Ultimately she gained a place among his most trusted advisors, a position the two of them held discreetly, since the idea would have horrified most of the men Weston dealt with.

This arrangement suited Sarah perfectly and had made her life interesting and full in so many ways. If only the pressure of a suitable marriage weren’t so great, she might be able to enjoy her bounty even more.

But at least she and her father had come to some kind of understanding about that subject, Sarah admitted to herself. And now she could concentrate on the most wonderful opportunity of her life – a journey to America. Immediately, she wanted to learn all the details of her incredible voyage. With one last, brief hug, she stepped away from her father, impatiently wiped the tears that had moistened her cheeks, and said, “You’ve told me almost nothing about my trip. When shall I leave? How long will I stay?”

“Hold!” Weston interrupted, grinning at the sudden onslaught. “One question at a time. Here now, sit down and I’ll tell you the plans.”

Eagerly, Sarah returned to the sofa and unceremoniously plunked herself down, her eyes riveted to her father so as not to miss any of his words.

“You will voyage in a month’s time. And while I do not expect it will take you long to transact the business, I would hope that you will remain in the Colonies until spring. This will give you ample opportunity to explore and learn. Besides, I would not have you sailing during the winter months for it is not only a freezing proposition, but a more dangerous one as well. I trust you agree?”

“Of course, Father.” Sarah’s eyes shone with anticipation. “But you have not yet said where I will be going, or who will accompany me. Pray tell.”

“Your destination is Boston and I’ve arranged for a most trustworthy escort – one who is not only familiar with the country, but one on whom you can rely for counsel and aid while you are about your mission. I speak of none other than Mr. Stewart Chamberlain.”

Had a shot been fired in the library at that precise moment, Sarah’s reaction could not have been more sudden or violent. But even as her mouth dropped open in horror and her face paled, she used inhuman strength to force herself to control her speech.

Knotting her trembling fingers, she replied, “B-but Father! Certainly you are not serious? An unmarried man? I’d be safer traveling alone, surely.” Her nervous chatter sounded shrill to her ears. But the idea was so absolutely appalling! Her own father placing her in the care of the one man in the world she feared and now hated. If only she could explain how vile his conduct had been and how knavishly he was wooing both of the Duke’s daughters. Being accompanied by him would be tantamount to a virgin sacrifice! “Father,” she cried, her tone a combination of outrage and pleading, “it is out of the question. I have reason to believe that Mr. Chamberlain is not a suitable companion.”

To her utter amazement, Weston calmly stroked his chin, and with more than a hint of humor in his voice, replied, “You seem quite disturbed, my dear, just as Mr. Chamberlain himself predicted. Would you mind enlightening me as to the cause of your most obvious dislike of the man? I myself have found him to be of unimpeachable character, and a most charming fellow besides. In addition, he is a seasoned traveler. You would be safe in his care.”

“Safe?!” Sarah flew from the settee, and kneading her slim hands together, marched to the fireplace. With a gesture of helplessness, her blue eyes wide as saucers, she turned to face her father, beseeching, “Safe? Father, I think no woman is safe where he is concerned. With all due respect for your ability to judge character, I would have you know that Mr. Chamberlain is a blackguard. A rogue!”

“I would ask proof of such a charge,” the Duke’s tone was suddenly ominous.

Sarah involuntarily crossed her arms over her bosom, hugging herself protectively. “Father, it is unspeakable for me to discuss such a delicate subject. I-I cannot say.”

Weston’s eyes rose mercurially, but his voice was unchanged. “You will say.”

Biting her lip, she knew she had no choice. “He-he tried to force his attentions on me.” The charges were leveled and she pinched her eyes shut, waiting for the thunderous reaction of outrage and indignation. But instead, her father cleared his voice and spoke quietly, “And was he successful?’

Sarah’s tenuous grasp on composure snapped as her eyes flew open. “No!” she demanded. “But that’s not the point! Father, don’t you see? He cannot be trusted!” In her anger and humiliation, she began pacing in front of the fire. “He is the least suitable escort you could name!”

Weston slowly sat back in his chair and stretched his stockinged legs before him. Placing his elbows on the comfortably upholstered arms, he touched his fingertips together, seemingly intent on watching his hands flex against each other. “Sarah,” he began placidly, “Mr. Chamberlain has confessed to his attraction for you, and did indeed admit to an indiscreet advance.” His words caused Sarah to stop in her paces. She looked on her father with a horrified expression. Weston, however, seemed not to notice. “But he also mentioned that the two of you have reached an understanding about this and that it has not – and would not – happen again. Was he correct?”

Shaking to the very soles of her slippered feet, Sarah forced out her reply. “Yes, but you must realize,” she implored, “he has you to answer to as long as he is under your roof. There is no telling what might become of me on the high seas – or in America. Father, you are throwing me to the wolves!”

“I have his word that no harm will come to you. And I value his word as I do my own. Surely you would not think of discarding an opportunity to see the United States over a problem already resolved.”

“Well I simply do not like him or trust him, Father, and would find his company taxing. How could I feel secure?” she offered desperately.

“Oh, come now, child,” the Duke of Weston argued impatiently. “It’s not as if the two of you will be inseparable, He will simply be available should you need him. Also, he is making the arrangements for you to stay with his sister and her family in Boston, so you won’t be dwelling under the same roof if that is a concern for you.”

Sarah realized that if she had any intention of seeing America, she would have to accept her father’s terms. But the idea of having to bear Stewart Chamberlain’s company – especially after the horrible discovery she had made last night – was almost more than she could handle. But how could she explain any of this to her father without suggesting she felt something for the Yankee? Of course she could refuse to go, but there would never be another opportunity like this.

The dual-edged blade of this dilemma was a physical pain to Sarah, and feebly she attempted to salve her frustration by demanding, “I should hope you will allow a servant to accompany me?”

Weston rose, laughing out loud with relief as he grasped his daughter’s rigid shoulders. “Do I hear the last request of a man about to walk the gallows?” he teased. Ignoring her pout, he continued, “Of course, my dear. I supposed you would like to take Tegan? A lovely and reliable girl. I will arrange it posthaste. Come now,” he urged, stretching a long arm around her shoulders as he began leading her to the door. “Everything will be grand. You’ll see ....”

“Very well, Father,” she sighed. And then seeing the flash of disappointment on his face, added, “Excuse me, Papa. You are right. ‘Twas a shock you gave me, ‘tis all. I suppose I can be civil to Mr. Chamberlain as long as he is accepting the burden of seeing to my welfare.” If only she could believe her own words! “By the way,” she asked, as she placed her hand on the library doorknob, “Does Juliana know of these plans?

“I think your mother has probably told her by now.”

“Do you think she will be disappointed that she’s not going?” Sarah could just imagine Juliana’s ire, especially since Stewart was essential to the journey.

“It is impossible to predict what Juliana’s reaction to anything will be,” he smiled affectionately, “but if I had to guess, I would say no. Somehow I cannot picture her putting up with the inconvenience of a long voyage. As you might have noticed by her comments at dinner last night, she does not have a very high opinion of the Colonies. No, I suspect her only concern will be that you won’t be around to share a confidence ... something I know we shall all miss.”

His gaze on her was so bittersweet that Sarah could not resist the urge to hug him once again. “Oh, Papa, I love you so.” she whispered. “I miss you already.”
CHAPTER 12

Sitting in her room later, Sarah was at a loss to absorb all the twists and turns her emotions had suffered in less than a day. First had come her decision to accept her attraction to Stewart Chamberlain. Then she had found her own sister in his embrace. And to add to her humiliation, her personal maid had delivered Stewart’s letter which told her nothing but the fact that he knew Sarah had witnessed their rendezvous.

Then her father presented her with the most exciting proposition of a lifetime – a voyage to America – only to have it tied up inexorably with Stewart Chamberlain. She colored at the thought of Stewart admitting to her father that he had been intimate with her, but that because of their compromise he would still be a suitable escort. She could not imagine that there existed another man in the world who could so successfully turn all events into such good fortune for himself.

She realized now that the voyage must have been the important news Stewart had wanted to tell her himself. At least that was one small triumph for her – he had not witnessed her elation upon first hearing of the news.

Deep in thought, she failed to acknowledge the impatient rapping on her door, but when the portal burst open, Sarah look up, startled.

“You’re here!” Juliana stood dwarfed by the doorjamb, looking as lovely as ever in a pale green muslin dress, her blonde hair caught up in curls off her neck and held with green ribbons.

“Yes,” Sarah replied, smiling meekly, “I didn’t hear you knock. I guess I was daydreaming ... again.”

Juliana flounced into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. “I can imagine. It appears you have much more to daydream about than usual.”

“Did Mother tell you?” Sarah asked, taking care to convey a neutral tone. It was impossible to judge Juliana’s mood.

“She did,” Juliana replied coolly, examining her exquisite reflection in Sarah’s vanity mirror. “Are you excited?”

“Yes,” Sarah said cautiously, “yes I am. Quite. I have always daydreamed about traveling, but never spoke of it. The idea always seemed impossible. And now ...” she shrugged doubtfully, uncomfortable with her sister’s blasé attitude.

Juliana gave a bored sigh and lightly hopped upon the bed, close to the window seat where Sarah was sitting. “Well it sounds like a perfectly awful way to spend the next six months, if you ask me, especially since the Little Season is soon to begin. I’m certainly grateful for my bacon brain, or Father might have considered sending me.” She made an exaggerated shiver, plucking at her gown as if it were suddenly infested. Ignoring Sarah’s pained expression, she continued in her haughty manner. “I hear Father has made arrangements with Stewart Chamberlain to be your protector.”

“That is my understanding,” Sarah replied so faintly that Juliana looked up from her skirt with a jerk.

“Don’t tell me this does not please you?” she said mockingly.

Sarah fidgeted uncomfortably. “No it does not. But it is a condition I must live with if I hope to make the voyage.”

“Oh, spare me,” Juliana cried dramatically, pushing herself off the downy coverlet and floating to the center of the room. “You think I don’t know about the two of you?”

“The two of us? Whatever are you talking about?” Sarah asked incredulously.

“Don’t misunderstand me, sister,” Juliana demanded petulantly, her jade eyes boring into her sister’s troubled blue ones. “It is not that I mind that Stewart prefers your charms. Heaven knows it’s about time you had a beau. But you might have told me yourself. After all, we are sisters, and I have always shared my dalliances with you.”

Shocked and stunned by her words, Sarah blurted, “Juliana, I-I don’t know what to say. You’ve confused me terribly. I thought Stewart and you ...?”

“Well I won’t say I didn’t wish it,” Juliana sighed. “Even perhaps pursued it,” she added over her shoulder as she strutted upon the thick Aubusson. “But I certainly would have saved myself a great deal of trouble – not to mention embarrassment – had you seen fit to tell me that Stewart was courting you all along. If I were the type to feel humiliation ...” she wagged her finger at Sarah, “... and you know that I am not, I might be quite inconsolable over what you’ve done to me.”

“What have I done?” Sarah cried, thoroughly confused.

“You know I had my eye on that Yankee, but you apparently beguiled him right out from under my nose. And all along I thought he was falling in love with me! I don’t enjoy playing the gudgeon, Sarah, and now that’s exactly what Stewart thinks of me, thanks to you!” Juliana was obviously distraught, for her eyes were stormy and her cheeks flying colors.

She rose and pleaded, “Juliana, please. I don’t understand what you are talking about. I swear, I haven’t purposely done anything to hurt you.”

Juliana stopped her pacing and considered her tall, slim sibling for a moment. Finally, she sighed and slumped into an overstuffed chaise. “Very well. Apparently we have some sorting out to do – though it pains me sorely that I should have to practically swoon before I’m able to find out what’s going on.” With that, she folded her arms across the swell of her bodice and thrust out her lower lip in a childish pout. “Tell me everything.”

Sarah proceeded to tell her, as briefly as she could, about the attentions Stewart had paid her from the time of his arrival. Without detail, she mentioned his forwardness and of the agreement they had reached.

“I first believed, as you did, that he was interested in you. So when he agreed to court me with less ... pressure,” Sarah struggled, “I demanded that he make his intentions clear to you. I see that he did not – for his selfish aim was to set his cap for both of us. And I hate him all the more for his deception.”

BOOK: Captives' Charade
3.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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