* * *
Having lobbed that grenade at him she went out, presumably to get washed and dressed. Leaving him reeling in shock.
What was all that about him not liking it? Hearing her say she wished they could have one more night made him want to crow with sheer joy.
And when she’d said marriage might not be too high a price to pay?
He sat bolt upright.
There was a chance, then. A slim chance, but a chance, none the less, of persuading her that marriage wouldn’t be any kind of penance at all. If only she’d consent, he’d spend his whole life making her feel wanted. Treasured.
When she came back...
Hel
l. By the time she came back, Ramrod Randall would have talked sense back into her.
He flung himself back on to the pillows again, ready to howl with despair.
‘Tom?’ Sarah poked her head round the door, twisting her hair up out of the way. ‘You will still be here when I get back, won’t you? You won’t go doing anything stupid like trying to report for duty again. Not until I’ve had a chance to speak to Justin first. Explain that all this has been my fault. I don’t want him to punish you. Strip you of your rank or have you cashiered out of the regiment or anything horrid like that. I know that your career is all you have.’
‘Don’t do anything out of fear for my career, Sarah,’ he growled. How many women would have thought of that? At a time like this, most women would surely be fretting about their own reputation. Their own fate.
But not his Sarah.
‘And don’t go pleading for mercy on my behalf,’ he growled. ‘You mustn’t worry that Randall might destroy me. He can’t. There are always other avenues for a man like me.’ He smiled grimly. There were always revolutions going on in distant corners of the world, where men with his experience, his skills, could earn their living. Perhaps not honourably. But if he lost Sarah, he didn’t think he’d care about honour any more.
He frowned. Any more? Where had that stray thought come from? When had he ever cared about his honour, or what anyone else thought about him? Hadn’t he been perversely proud of being picked to hold command in a unit that was so disreputable they’d come to be known as the Rogues?
And yet, somehow, the thought of selling his skills to a foreign power suddenly felt wrong. As though he would be letting Sarah down. As though he would be staining this time for her. If she ever heard news of him, he wouldn’t want to have become the kind of man she would regret having taken as her first lover.
Hell’s teeth! He was going to have to spend the rest of his life proving he’d been worthy of spending last night in her arms, whether he ever saw her again or not. Making love with her had changed everything. He’d never be the same man again.
She came fully into the room then, though a little hesitantly.
‘How do I look?’
She was wearing the least favourite of her three gowns. It had a high neck and a lot of unnecessary frills. It made her look prim. Over it she’d pulled on her new black coat.
When Sarah saw his expression, her own face fell.
‘I really should have bought a black bonnet, as well.’ She sighed, pulling on her blue one and deftly tying the ribbons. ‘And as for this stupid parasol,’ she said, picking it up and looking at it in a puzzled fashion, ‘it is of no earthly use, yet I wouldn’t feel properly attired for church without it. I don’t know why I didn’t pick up a black one while I was buying my gloves,’ she said, drawing them on.
‘Because you have been thinking about things that are more important than your appearance?’
‘Sacrilege!’ She shot him a brave smile, but didn’t approach the bed. ‘If Gussie could hear you now, she would rap your knuckles with her fan. Which would, I assure you, complement her outfit to a nicety.’
‘You don’t really care, though, do you? Not deep down?’
She cocked her head to one side. ‘Actually, no. I don’t. I have found it liberating, not having to consider every single aspect of my dress. Or changing three or four times a day.’ She clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Don’t tell anyone, will you? That I don’t give a fig for my clothes? That, I assure you, would scandalise the ton almost as much as discovering that I’d taken a lover.’
Her face wavered. She pressed her lips together as though she was trying to keep them from trembling.
‘I am going now, Tom. Wish me luck.’
‘I don’t think you need luck, Sarah. You are equal to anything.’
‘Oh, Tom, don’t. Don’t say such things. You will make me cry.’