Chapter Eight
June 21, 1817
Sarah sat in the drawing room opposite her great uncle and aunt as silence rolled heavy through the room. Earlier that day, she’d accompanied Andrew into the village. He’d run his errand to the local vicar while she’d gone into a shop and bought a gown—billed to the earl—for the ceremony. It had been a wonderful moment, especially when he’d joined her and approved of the rich green color she’d chosen, but the joy from that outing faded in the face of doing this current deed. She clasped her hands in her lap to prevent their shaking, for she’d never made an announcement quite like this before. “Well? Have you nothing to say?”
Her great uncle stared at her with disbelief stamped over his thin face. “You’re marrying the Earl of Hadleigh.” It wasn’t a question.
“I am. Four days from now, actually.” A tiny tingle of anticipation went down her spine. It was the first time she’d spoken the fact out loud.
“But… why?”
It was her turn to stare like a bacon-brained idiot. “Why not? Don’t you think it’s wonderful that I have a future?”
Where I’m not beholden to you and your grudging charity?
“You have a future here,” her aunt interrupted. Where her great uncle was tall and thin, her Aunt Maria was short and on the matronly side. Threads of silver wove through her upswept hair, and though the pair was only ten years her senior, they weren’t aging gracefully. “There are years ahead of you with us.”
An unladylike snort escaped Sarah. “Perhaps, but I’ve had this opportunity and I’m taking it.” She rubbed her hands on her charcoal gray skirting. “The only reason I’m telling you this now is I thought I owed you the courtesy.” She stopped short of adding some folderol about them taking such kindness with her.
“But, what will happen to the children?” her aunt continued. Utter bewilderment clouded her eyes.
“The same things that usually happens to children. They’ll grow through their lives until they’re old enough to leave home for school and university.” Sarah shrugged. “After that, the future is in their hands.”
“True enough, but what do we do with them in the meantime?” her great uncle asked. Dread and confusion scudded across his face. “They still have need of a governess.”
“Then you shall hire someone else to the post. If you’d like, I can write out an advertisement and have it placed in one of the papers before I go.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He frowned. “We shall have to…” He gestured about as his words trailed away.
“Ah.” Sarah huffed out a breath. “Of course, you’ll need to pay them fair wages and give the next candidate all the concessions you never granted to me.” That was the crux of the problem. They weren’t all that sad to lose her as a person, but they were annoyed that they were losing nearly free labor.
“Yes, but, I rather thought that you would—”
“Stay here into my dotage or wait for you to turn me out once my usefulness had faded? Remain content with my lot while the children were young?” Sarah slowly rose to her feet. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not growing younger, so it’s time for me to look after myself.”
Her great uncle scrambled to his feet. He shoved a hand through his thinning blond hair. “I hope you’ll convey our best wishes to the earl.” It would probably physically harm him to congratulate her on landing such a prize as the earl.
Despite everything, a tug of compassion halted her urge to quit the room. “I will, but please, you and Aunt Maria are most welcome to attend the ceremony. Come to Hadleigh Hall. Two o’clock four days from now.” She allowed a small smile. “After all, you are my only family.”
And she would gain a certain amount of satisfaction knowing that she’d become a countess and would suddenly have more stature than her baronet great uncle.
“Of course.” He nodded. “Perhaps once you’re married, your husband and I might entertain a friendship.”
“That is completely up to him.” Hopefully, Andrew would have more sense than to fall for such blatant social climbing.
“Well, it’s scandalous what you’re doing,” her aunt said as she rocked to her feet. “You barely know the earl. People will gossip about your intentions.”
Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out an ugly response. “I’ve not cared about the tabbies’ tongues all this time, and I don’t guess I’ll lose sleep over it now.” The smile she pasted on her face felt forced. “Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
“One last thing,” her aunt said with a raised index finger. “Tomorrow is Sunday and your day off, so I won’t begrudge you that, but the following three days are to be spent with the children in intense learning. I won’t have you skimp on their education. Make the remainder of the plans on your own time.” A note of annoyance had crept into her voice.
“Of course.” However, learning would only occur if the children were amenable to it.
“My husband and I will tell the children you’re leaving… once you’re gone, but not before. I don’t want their routine upset. Do not say anything that will cause them sadness or distress,” she continued with a hard glint to her eyes.
“If that’s what you think is best.” So there would be no chance for her to tell them a proper goodbye. No matter how much the two had been holy terrors, they would always think the worst of her. No doubt her “dear” relatives would perpetuate the story of Sarah’s abandonment. “Then I’d best plan out my lessons. If you’ll excuse me?” There was nothing she could do about the tales they’d tell or the marks on her reputation they’d make, but soon all of that would be in the past.
My future lies ahead not behind.