She frowned. That was rather personal. “My father worked in importing whatever goods he could find that he thought would prove interesting to the public. His business was fledgling, but he did well enough. I am an only child.”
“Where is your father now?”
A sudden stab of grief went through her. It would never go fully away, of course, and neither should it, for she would miss her parents dreadfully her entire life. She raised a gloved hand and wrapped it around her locket. “He perished on a ship coming from France to England. Papa and his business partner had gone over to pick up a shipment of brandy and champagne. Since the war ended, they could legitimately import it, and there is quite a demand for the liquor here.” She stared straight ahead on the path, not daring to look at him lest she catch pity in his eyes.
“What of your mother?” he asked in a soft voice.
“She went with them. I declined the trip due to my suffering a head cold at the time.” She paused, forcing a swallow into her tight throat. “There was a fire onboard. They were trapped on a lower deck.” Her voice broke. “The people on the upper, more expensive decks mostly survived.” That was the way the world operated in all its crevices. The ones with coin and titles and prestige were often handed chances to survive where everyone else was left to flounder.
“Besides your great uncle, do you have any other relatives?”
“No.” She could hardly force the word from her tight throat. “I’m afraid my lines are hideously short-lived, and those that didn’t perish early either couldn’t reproduce or only had one child.” Not a very grand pedigree.
“I apologize for causing you discomfort. I well know how disappointing life can be.” The earl looked at her the same time she turned her head. Their gazes connected. That fleeting trace of vulnerability shadowed his eyes and compelled her to keep walking beside him. “I lost my own father two years ago.”
Sarah blinked away sudden tears, whether for her own story or for his she couldn’t say. Needing something to do with her hands, she fiddled with her spectacles. “Grief doesn’t hurt any less, does it, no matter how many years pass. It is something we must adjust to, learn to live with lest it consume and destroy us.”
“I haven’t experienced any sort of adverse reactions.”
When she glanced at him, she caught a muscle spasm beneath his left eye. That was… odd. To say nothing of the flash of anger in his stormy blue-gray depths. Had he not made peace with his loss, or had he not let himself feel the grief? Either way was damaging. To think upon it was both fascinating and concerning, but it wasn’t her place to ask. This walk was an aberration. All too soon, once his conscience stopped berating him for causing her injury, he’d go about his business and forget her.
Silence brewed between them as they walked before Sarah broke it due to curiosity. Him being here simply wasn’t ordinary. “Tell me, Lord Hadleigh, why exactly did you seek me out today? I’ve lived long enough to know men don’t suddenly show up on my doorstep and ask for an outing.” She shrugged. “If you wished to take in the air, you could have done that yourself, though I trust you were more careful about your riding habits.”
He huffed out a breath. “I enjoy galloping and don’t intend to change it.”
“That answer isn’t unexpected, but you didn’t answer my question.” Was he deliberately being difficult, or was he simply to remain an unsolved mystery?
“No, I didn’t.” The earl walked in silence for a while as she attempted to puzzle out his intentions. He didn’t hold himself relaxed as one would do for a mere bout of exercise. In fact, tension fairly emanated from him and he clenched his jaw so hard, the muscles in his cheek stood rigid. Finally, he said, “I do have a specific purpose for this outing.”
“Oh?” Her heartbeat skipped. What could he possibly want from her?
“Please, call me Andrew or even Drew. That’s what everyone has named me.”
Sarah cocked an eyebrow. “You asked me out for a stroll to tell me your Christian name?” Really, the man had windmills in his head if that were the case.
“Not exactly.” A hint of annoyance threaded through those two words, but why? If wasn’t as if she were the one who made the conversation difficult.
She tamped a sound of frustration. “Then why? Pray enlighten me.”
“It’s something I’ve thought about since meeting you three days ago. The idea simply won’t let me alone, and the more I ponder it, the more I think it might have some merit,” he continued in the same low voice that would drive her made before too long.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Had that first conversation been an aberration then? He’d seemed highly intelligent and able to debate as they’d stood arguing on the side of the road. Now, it seemed he was bedeviled with something of his own making.
“Doing the pretty doesn’t come easy to me.” Aggravation underscored his reply, but for the life of her she didn’t know why he was annoyed.
“Some men simply don’t have the personality to be charming and unaffected in situations where their peers might judge them.” What the devil is your point, my lord? But she said nothing further until he could give her a clue as to what he drove toward.
“That’s not what I meant.” There was no mistaking the growl in his tone.
She blew out a breath as frustration mounted. “Then stop hedging. What exactly are you talking about, for I’m lost at sea in the muddle of this conversation.”
“Perhaps it would be better if I showed you, for the subject matter is rather abrupt and far-fetched without a hands-on aid.” The earl brought them to a halt and touched her shoulder, turning her so that she faced him on the lane. As she frowned, he tugged at the ribbon beneath her chin. The bonnet tumbled from her head to land with a thud on the hard-packed earth.
“What are you—” Before she could voice the whole protest, he swept her into his arms and claimed her lips.
Sarah’s world tilted sharply sideways. She fought against him, more from the shock of it than anything else, but when it became apparent that he wasn’t dissuaded from his present course and those chiseled lips were quite wonderful against hers, she relaxed.
Seemingly of their own accord, her hands came to rest on the hard wall of his chest, and she gave herself over to experiencing the first kiss of her adult life. When her eyes shuttered closed, she had no idea, for the firm pressure of his warm lips on hers dashed away her ability to think straight. The veriest tastes of coffee and mint came away on her palate as she mimicked what he did to her. When he kissed the corner of her mouth, she did the same to him. Tiny butterfly wings brushed the inside of her belly.
He reeled her in closer with a hand at the back of her head and fit his mouth more decidedly over hers. With the tip of his tongue, he explored her bottom lip, and when she gasped from the sheer pleasure of it, he kissed her upper one, gently sucking it before he released it. Then he paused, their lips barely a hairsbreadth apart, his gaze boring into hers before he claimed her mouth once more, this time with a touch more urgency and power behind the overture.
A moan escaped Sarah’s throat. Anticipation sizzled along each nerve ending and heightened her awareness of him as a man. She slid her hands up his chest to clutch at his strong shoulders. A confusing mix of deep need and abject fear twisted along her spine. Through the haze of desire that had suddenly enveloped her brain, common sense rushed in and her eyes popped open.
Dear Lord, she was being kissed in public by the Earl of Hadleigh! She wrenched away, put a step between them as she gawked, her chest heaving, her breath coming in fast pants, her spectacles slipping down her nose while she both marveled at the fact and acknowledged the horror of what had happened.
Why had he done it? To humiliate her? To put her in her place? To remind her of his mastery? Heat jumped into her cheeks. Oh, he was quite skilled in that, but such treatment was outside of enough. She wasn’t a throwaway member of society nor a woman of poor morals. Sarah lifted a trembling hand and without thought, she brought her palm crashing into his cheek. The resounding sound of her kid glove slapping his skin sent a rush of satisfaction through her.
“What is the meaning of this, Lord Hadleigh? To that end, what is wrong with you?” she demanded in an effort not to chase her errant thoughts down yet another rabbit hole.
Or remember how delicious the kiss had been, and how she’d enjoyed every second of it.