For Love of the Earl (31 page)

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Authors: Jessie Clever

BOOK: For Love of the Earl
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And looking back in the mirror at herself, Sarah could say she was glad she had found Alec and that he had found her.
 
For too long misunderstood words had kept them separated, but now, she knew it would be different.
 
Now she knew, Alec would never be far from her again.
 
With or without words.
 
And with even greater certainty, she knew he would never leave her.

"What time does the ship leave port?" Sarah asked as she stood, shaking out the skirts of her day gown.
 

It felt good to be clean and in whole clothes again with petticoats and shifts and tapes and buttons and slippers.
 
She felt complete and normal again and relished the feeling of hair pins against her scalp.
 
Now a hat and reticule would complete the ensemble just nicely, and she could return to being the Countess of Stryden.
 
Only this time, she swore to truly make it her own, and when people said
my lady
, she would turn her head with the greatest degree of arrogance she could fathom.

"This afternoon, I believe," Jane said, also standing.
 
"But I'm almost certain Richard will want to get there early."
 

It sounded as though Jane had meant to say more, but her words ended abruptly.
 
Sarah looked up at the older woman only to find her staring at a spot over her shoulder.
 
Sarah turned to where Nora stood a little ways from them in the room.
 

Nora stood perfectly still, one thin hand pressed to her stomach, her face completely white.
 
And before Sarah could ask if everything were all right, Nora was already headed to the chamberpot and had commenced being sick into it.
 
Sarah and Jane moved together, one grabbing the chamberpot for Nora while the other held the thin woman's shaking shoulders.
 
It was Jane, ever the mother, who spoke first.

"There you go, dear, have it all up.
 
It will do no good to keep it in your stomach."
 

When it appeared that she had finished, Sarah set down the chamberpot and scurried out of the room in search of something for the poor woman to drink to rid her mouth of the acrid taste of her own stomach contents.
 
She flew into the main room of the suite, completely stalling the conversation that had been occurring at the breakfast table at the far end of the room.
 
The men began to stand at her entrance, but she shooed them back in their seats even as she snatched the tea pot and a cup from the table.
 

"No, no, nothing amiss here," she said although no one had asked her a single question.
 

She moved as quickly as the tea pot would allow her, returning to her room and snapping the door closed on the men gathered outside.
 
She poured Nora a cup of tea and brought it to where Jane had made her recline on the settee.

"How long have you felt ill?" Jane asked, and Nora shook her head.
 

"Oh, it's nothing really.
 
I am sure my stomach is just upset with all the travel.
 
I will be fine as soon as we return to Liverpool."
 

The statement seemed out of place coming from the stalwart housekeeper, and Sarah poked her.

"That's not true, is it?
 
You're carrying a child."
 

Sarah didn't know where the thought had come from but suddenly it was there, fully formed in her head, and there was nothing she could do for it except to say it out loud.
 

Jane gasped at the pronouncement, but Nora merely smiled.

"I haven't told Nathan yet.
 
I was only truly sure of it this morning when I woke up feeling this way.
 
It's been like this for the past few days, and I just wanted to be sure before I said something to him."
 

Sarah's face hurt with the smile that had found its way to her lips.
 

"Oh, Nora, how exciting!
 
Perhaps I could knit little booties for the tyke."
 

Where on earth that statement had come from, Sarah had no clue, but Jane looked at her oddly.

"You do not know how to knit and since when are you concerned about little booties?"
 

Sarah's hand went instinctually to her stomach.
 
Jane did not miss the motion.
 

"Oh, that is how it is then, I see."
 
She stood, heading toward the door.
 
"Both of my sons have finally decided to give me grandbabies, and they decide to try for it at the same time.
 
I am going to be covered in nappies before long."
 

And with this statement, Jane left the room.
 

"Are you hoping for a girl, then?" Sarah asked as soon as the door shut.
 

Nora smiled, and Sarah went on.

"You could name her Jane or Lydia.
 
Either would be a most daring choice."

But Nora only smiled more and said, "I was thinking about Sarah for a name."

~

Alec stood on the steps of The Owl and Fork Inn with his wife by his side as the Duke of Lofton's carriage approached.
 
The driver would take them to the docks and then depart for London with the duke's carriage while the traveling party proceeded to Liverpool and hopefully, loose any contingent that was still attempting to find them.

He watched the sea breeze play with the tendrils of his wife's hair that hung below her hat and marveled at the normalcy of it.
 
He was just a man standing on the steps of an inn with his wife awaiting a carriage.
 
It was something any gentleman would have taken for granted, but for Alec, it was something he was sure to cherish forever.
 

Sarah had been quiet since he had left her that morning with Nora.
 
He had told her of what he had learned after speaking with his father, but she had not much to comment on it.
 
She had smiled, of course, and exclaimed her surprise and astonishment at what his mother had done for him.
 
But it was as if she had known his mother would have done such a thing.
 

So he poked her then, and she turned to him, a smile already on her face when before she surely would have hit him.
 

"What is it that has your thoughts?" he asked.

Her smile faltered slightly, and he felt a pang of dread at what she might say next.
 

"It's nothing really," she said, "It's only that there is so much to think about."

Alec watched her face, not really certain what she meant."
 

"So much to think about?"
 

The light of the late spring day glanced off of her milky white skin underneath her hat, and Alec wanted to reach up, take her hat and let the sun hit her full in the face just so he could see the way it made her eyes light up.
 
But instead he stood there, her arm politely in his as they waited for the carriage to be brought round.
 

"Yes, there is quite a lot to think on that I had not considered previously, and now it's as though I need to catch up."
 

Alec raised an eyebrow.

"Such as?"

"Children," she said flatly, turning to him, and Alec took an involuntary step away from her, which just brought her with him as he held onto her arm.

"Children?" he said, not enjoying how his voice fluctuated.

"Yes, children," she said, and then her voice grew soft and sad, "Do you not want children, Alec?"

"Oh, it's not that.
 
Of course, I want children.
 
It's just that they're so dirty," he finally decided on saying when in fact he was feeling every kind of repulsion known to him.
 
"Have you ever seen a dirty nappie?"
 

Sarah laughed, a sparkling sound amongst the cacophony of the daily business of the port town.
 

"Have you?" she countered, and now Alec, too, had to laugh.
 

"I can only imagine the horror," he said, which had his wife laughing with greater force.

"But I've never thought of children.
 
What if we've created one?
 
Have you thought of that?"
 

He raised an eyebrow.
 

"I find that highly unlikely," he said, even though the same thought had come to his mind in a moment of panic on the ship.
 

Sarah poked him as he had done to her just moments before.
 

"That's what everyone thinks until all of a sudden you're with child."
 

Alec turned to look at her fully.

"What has brought on this sudden talk of children?" he said, and he caught the way her eyes moved to the left just as he asked the question.

"Nothing," she said, innocently enough, but he knew something brewed beneath her statement.

He decided to leave it at that and let his wife have her thoughts to occupy her.
 
They had a private suite on board the vessel that would take them to Liverpool, and he planned to use it to the greatest extent that he could.
 
They may have been married for over four years, but this would be the wedding trip they had never had.
 
And he would make the most of it.

"Emily.
 
If we have a girl, I would like to name her Emily," he heard himself say and felt Sarah's eyes upon him.
 

"I think Emily would be a fine name," she said, and then they both stood on the steps in silence.
 

The carriage came round with Nathan at the box, but this time, Nora was suspiciously absent.
 

"She's gone on ahead with Father and Jane to secure the quarters on the ship," Nathan said as he jumped down.
 
"I'm to escort you to the docks, my lord and lady," he said with a flourishing bow.

"Well, see to it that the way is not bumpy, lowly servant, or I shall have your head," Alec said in as gruff a manner as he could manage, but Nathan only laughed at him, pulling open the door to the carriage.
 

Alec reached for Sarah's hand to help her step up to the carriage, but his wife was oddly missing when he turned around.
 
Panic seized him instantly, and all thought fled his mind even as the breath stopped in his lungs.
 
But then he saw her, just a few steps from him at the edge of the steps of The Owl and Fork Inn, leaning ever so slightly to the side as if to see around something.
 

"Sarah?" he called, but she did not respond.

He looked at Nathan, who only raised his eyebrows and shook his head.
 

Alec moved in the direction of his wife, carefully touching her elbow when he reached her to gain her attention.
 
She jumped as if he had startled her, a hand flying to her throat.
 

"Oh, sorry," she said, and he saw the confusion in her eyes even as she shook her head to clear it, "I thought I saw someone."
 

Alec looked beyond her but all he saw was an old, crippled dark skinned man carrying a sack over one shoulder, shuffling off into the distance.
 
He looked back at Sarah.
 

"Are you all right?" he asked.

And Sarah nodded.
 
"Quite fine."

He took her arm as they went back to the waiting carriage.
 

"Are you ready for this journey, my wife?" he asked her, and she looked up at him and smiled.
 

"Always," she said as she took his hand.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

London, England

June 1815

She watched the carriages moving, counted the beats as the wheels passed in front of her.
 
She heard the switch of the reigns and the staccato of the horses' hooves as her own breath mixed with the sound of it all, her heart thumping in time.
 
She was ready to make another try at it when the hand descended on her shoulder, snatching her back.
 

"You'll get yourself killed if you do it that way," said a voice far above her head, a voice that sounded oddly like that of a refined lady.

Ginny looked up, shielding her eyes with a grimy hand as the sunlight blinded her.
 
But as her eyes adjusted, she saw it was not only a lady that had grabbed her, but a lady with a right fine gentleman hanging onto her arm.
 
Ginny backed up, shaking her shoulder from the woman's grasp.
 

"And what do ye know of it?" she said, turning to move away, but the woman grabbed her again.
 

Ginny shook hard to break the woman's grasp, but the woman was stronger than any lady Ginny had ever met.
   

"I know a thing or two more than you do, and if you'd like to not end up dead, you'll listen to what I have to say."

Ginny stopped moving, feeling an odd sense of respect growing inside of her for this lady.
 

"A lady like you don't know nothing on it," Ginny said, but her fight was quickly replaced with suspicion.
 

She didn't know who this lady or her gentleman friend was, but there was something about her that Ginny thought was familiar like.
 
So she stopped trying to break loose and listened to the woman.
 

The lady carried a parasol made of finer silk than Ginny had ever snitched and wondered where she'd gotten it and if she perhaps would be able to steal some for herself one day.
 
That would make her a pretty farthing or two even.
 
She could eat like a queen for a whole day.
 
The thought had her salivating.
 
But the lady handed the parasol to the gentleman and grabbing handfuls of her fine skirt, squatted to the same level as Ginny.

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