Sarah's Duke: and Ellie's Gentleman (The heir and the spare, book 1) (6 page)

“But will I have to talk to anyone? Will people be able to see me?”

This time, only John laughed but Charlotte smiled.

“Of course people can see you. That is half the fun of the opera. Being able to see what everyone else is wearing and doing, but not having to talk to them.”

“Oh.”

“Is anyone else going to be there tonight whom I know?” Sarah asked quietly, dropping her eyes so her new friends would not see the emotion in them.

“None of which I am aware.”

“Oh, that is good.” Sarah said, putting on her sunniest smile.

John and Charlotte shared a glance but didn’t say anything more, so Sarah rode the rest of the way happily, listening to idle chatter and hoping that she would be noticed by her husband-to-be, whoever he may be.

    When they arrived, they were personally escorted to their box by a footman and Sarah’s heart fluttered in her ribcage the whole way. She had never seen anything so grand or beautiful. The velvet curtains, the view of the stage, oh, that she had lived to see this day!

“Oh my goodness,” she cried and rushed toward the edge to see the view properly. Sarah heard John chuckle softly beside her.

“You shouldn’t get so close to the edge, Miss Collins,” he teased, putting one hand on her wrist and the other on her waist to draw her back to the safety of the first row of seats.

“Please, call me Sarah. I don’t really like being called Miss Collins,” she told John, liking the attention he was giving her but safe in the knowledge that he wasn’t pursuing her in any way.

John’s hand on her waist fell away, but he held onto her hand and raised it to his lips.

“I would be delighted, Sarah.” He bent at the waist and chastely kissed her gloved knuckles making her smile. What a gentleman!

A strangled sound in the entrance of the opera box had them both turning. Oliver stood in the entrance with a look on his face that made Sarah cower. He looked furious. John held tightly onto her fingers when she tried to withdraw them and drew her hand onto his arm.

“Good evening, Oliver, have you come to join our small group?” John was obviously ignoring Oliver’s scowl and the tightening of his fists, but she certainly couldn’t.

Sarah dug her fingers into John’s arm as the flutters of panic rose in her, but he stroked her fingers reassuringly. Oliver looked ready to murder someone. Why, she wasn’t quite sure, but she knew that look was focused on her and John. He couldn’t be jealous, could he?

When he didn’t reply, Sarah gathered her courage and slipped her hand from John’s arm and dropped into her lowest curtsy.

“Your Grace,” she said, coming up so slowly that Oliver had time to walk over to her and impatiently tap his black leather boot against the carpet, before her eyes came up to his.

“You look well considering you have been ill for a week.”

Charlotte gasped beside her and Sarah’s eyebrows rose. What sort of gentleman said something like that to a lady?

“I apologize, Miss Collins, for my rudeness. I was just shocked to see you looking so well.”

Sarah closed her gaping mouth and nodded slowly. Was she supposed to say something to that?

Oliver ground his teeth together. “Well?”

“Well?” she repeated with a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth. “Well, how are you here, looking so well?”

Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise, then a muscle in his jaw jumped, indicating he was clenching his teeth again.

“I wasn’t
really
sick your grace,” Sarah whispered in a conspirator tone.

“No?” he whispered back, his face softening.

“No, I was just having a week away from the circuit. I can see why you and your counterparts never attend balls,” she slid her eyes over to John to include him in the conversation. “They are just exhausting.” Sarah let out an exaggerated sigh and John chuckled.

“Well, it seems that the rest did you good. You are glowing tonight.” said Oliver.

Sarah frowned at him. What was he doing now? He’d come in to the box like a thundercloud, she’d chided him out of his bad mood and now he was complimenting her? The man appeared to be as changeable in moods as her capricious Aunt Eustacia. Her aunt was a character of extremes and Sarah sincerely hoped that this would not be the case with Oliver, as this would make him less than pleasant company in the long term.

“Shall we sit down, my lord?” Sarah asked, using John’s name intentionally and turning towards him.  “I believe the opera is about to start and I would not want to miss any of it.”

John smirked and held out his arm again.

“Shall we see you at the interval, Oliver?” John asked Oliver with a raised eyebrow.

“If you do not mind, I might stay here. My mother tends to snore through the second half.”

A shiver danced along Sarah’s spine. How would she relax with him here?

****

Intermission arrived and Lord John and Lady Charlotte both made excuses to leave the box. Sarah watched Oliver carefully when they asked if she’d like to join them and he didn’t move. So right or wrong, she chose to stay.

She was a little surprised that her friends left them alone unchaperoned, but it was an open box, people could clearly see them and the lights were on.

The minute they were alone, Oliver moved into the empty seat beside her.

“So tell me the real reason you stayed at home for the past week.”

“Your Grace, I do not believe that topic is in the realm of polite conversation. Shall we discuss the opera or would you like to talk about the weather?” Sarah asked, with a deliberately false flutter of her eyelashes.

Sarah knew Oliver was a duke but he was acting like one of her five year old cousins. He had the nerve to question her when
she
was the one who was owed an apology? Well, she wasn’t standing for it.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed at her tone.

“It’s Oliver, do not ‘Your Grace’ me, I don’t like it.”

“Oh, are you sure you want to admit to being entitled to the title? It would be the first time you told me about it.” A hint of anger was creeping into her voice now too and she didn’t care. Her belly was tightening and her hands were clenched in her lap.

His face fell. “I should have told you when we first met. I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders slumped and the tightness receded. He seemed genuine and it tugged at her heart.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I only came into the title a year ago and I don’t feel like a duke. It’s not right.”

“I’m sorry about your brother, Oliver, and your father too. How horrible for you.” She placed her hand in his, the warmth of his skin passing though their gloves.

“Thank you,” Oliver choked out.

“It must have been horrible to lose both of them in the same day.” Sarah whispered again, looking into his eyes for the first time and seeing the tears shimmering in the beautiful brown depths.

Oliver nodded slowly.

“My twenty-fifth birthday.” He choked out, trying valiantly to hold in the tears that were threatening again.

Sarah gasped and lifted her arms to embrace him.

She stopped herself before she touched him, noting the interested looks they were receiving from the surrounding boxes and the people below.

“Come with me,” she whispered, moving into the darkest corner of the booth. It was concealed from everyone and would allow her time to do what she wanted to do. She pulled a chair from the last row and set it in the corner.

Oliver stood up, moving slowly up to her, a confused frown on his face.

“Sit down,” she commanded, pointing to the chair.

He sat.

Sarah placed his hands on her waist, pulled his head to her bosom and wrapped her slim arms around him.

Sarah soon began to regret her instinctive reaction as Oliver went stiff in her arms. He needed comfort and this was how she was used to giving it. It was either too late in his life to learn how to be held, or too late in his grieving to be consoled.

Sarah pulled back and placed her hands around his jaw. Lifting his face to hers she whispered, “I am so sorry for your loss,” and brought her lips down onto his.

She felt the shiver sweep through Oliver and knew she’d chosen the right way to let him know how she felt.

His lips were warm and soft, and she held there as long as she could. Pulling away reluctantly she looked back into his eyes and saw a change. Something smoky and dangerous was emerging through the pain and a shiver ran up her spine.

Oliver surprised her when he stood up and pressed her up against the wall. She enjoyed the feel of her breasts against his chest and her hips cradling him for a moment before he swooped and devoured her.

There was no other way of describing the kiss. He pressed his lips to hers in desperation, seeking not only reassurance but a physical response and having no resistance left, she gave it to him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his until she heard him groan. His lips were coaxing and warm and she soon felt his tongue licking her bottom lip. She pulled back puzzled.

“Let me in,” he whispered, using his right thumb to push her bottom lip softly apart from her top.

Before she could comprehend exactly what he meant Oliver swooped again, this time dipping his tongue into her mouth. Sarah gasped at this intrusion and he withdrew from her mouth. Soon Sarah was drowning in his lips again and when she felt his tongue probing for entrance she let him in this time.

Oliver abruptly pulled away from her and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, twitching at his breeches with his hand in a rather unusual way.

“Don’t be sorry, I enjoyed it.” Sarah admitted, before blushing at her words. She had been taught to be honest, a virtue that wouldn’t be appropriate at this point in time. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have, because it makes me want to kiss you again.” Oliver grinned at her, his eyes smouldering. “But that would be unwise. If we were caught...” Oliver let his voice trail off with the implication.

Sarah nodded her head and let her eyes drift back to the stage.

“It looks like we have a few minutes left. I wonder where the Dunford’s are?” Sarah mused, breathing slowly to try to bring her heart rate back to a normal pace.

“You mean Lady Charlotte and Lord John?” Oliver asked a little tersely.

Sarah just smiled. He sounded jealous.

“It is funny, is not it? I never even expected to meet a Duke’s daughter, let alone be invited to attend the opera with one.” Sarah smiled at him, letting the pleasure she felt show on her face.

“Lady Charlotte is slightly unconventional for her class.”

Pain hit her across the chest. “So you don’t approve of her associating with me either.”

“Of course I do, and what do you mean either?” Oliver asked sharply.

Sarah shrugged, she shouldn’t really be sharing her parents’ opinions with him. However, she wanted to.

“My mother could not believe Lady Charlotte and I would have anything in common to speak about. She didn’t believe I would attract the attention of anyone of her station.”

“And me?” he asked, his voice rising with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify.

“What about you, Your Grace?” Sarah dropped her eyes away, unable to look at him.

“Oliver,” he growled. She looked up again and saw the heated look he was giving her. It sent another bolt of warmth to the spot between her legs.

“What about you, Oliver?” Sarah asked the question with the same bravery it took to step off a cliff. She didn’t know where she was going to land.

“What would your parents think about your association with me?” He repeated.

“They don’t know. I thought I had been rescued the other night by a duke’s brother. I haven’t told them that he turned out to be the Duke instead. I think my mother would have an apoplexy.” She was still hurt that Oliver had lied to her about something so important.

“Why would she care?”

“She would worry that you would ruin my chances of a good marriage by telling people what happened. She’s suspicious of the aristocracy. No real reason... I  think. My father is the youngest son of the late Viscount Crimsbury, but my mother has never had much to do with his family. They never condescended to visit us, and my father the Reverend James Collins is so committed to his church that we rarely leave the area.”

Sarah watched as Oliver’s face at first paled, then a moment later reddened, in complete contrast.

“Oh my lord, what am I doing?” Oliver looked up at the ceiling and held his arms out wide.

“What do you mean, Oliver?” Sarah asked, failing to understand why he appeared to be in complete turmoil all of a sudden. What had happened now?

****

All at once, the seriousness of the situation hit Oliver like a well aimed punch to the head. Sarah really did need to get married this year. She would not have lied about such a thing, or what she needed in a husband. He had to stop this strange obsession he had with her, starting from now.