Chapter Ten
June 25, 1817
Sarah’s nerves felt strung too tight while flutters tickled through her lower belly. In mere moments, she would recite vows to Andrew that would forever bind her to him, yet she hadn’t seen him for three days thanks to her great uncle’s dictates that she should spend all her time with his children.
Not that the spoiled young ones cared. They hadn’t been any more interested in learning yesterday than they’d been during her whole term as their governess. The one piece of business that caused a sensation had been Mary blurting out a question Sarah would never forget.
“Mother told George and I that you were marrying the earl next door. Is that true?”
“It absolutely is,” she had replied with a slight smile, but inside she’d been sticking out her tongue.
The girl had looked incredulous. “No one can quite figure out why the devil he—or any man—would offer for you when you’re nobody,” she’d uttered in exasperated tones.
Sarah had shrugged. “Everyone is worthy, regardless of other peoples’ opinions. Remember that.” And then she’d gone on teaching as if nothing were amiss.
Even now, the memory made her smile. Let them all wonder. She cared not. This new path beckoned before her and she couldn’t wait to see where it led. It was no one’s business how the engagement had come about or why. The fact was, today she would marry at the ripe old age of four and thirty, and she wouldn’t need to fret over her future again.
Despite her confidence, Sarah waited in the drawing room. It was as lovely as one could imagine a room in an earl’s home to be. Delicate Louis XIV furnishings, cushions of pleasing shades of blue, the walls decorated with oil paintings of pastoral or seaside landscapes all in heavy gilt frames, thick Aubusson carpeting, and heavy navy velvet drapes all spoke to wealth and high position. Both impressive and a tad intimidating.
Was she truly ready to step into this life and live it? She had no prior experience of mixing with the ton or how to conduct herself therein. What if I fail?
Then she’d merely start over the next day until she figured out how to use the new title to her advantage and put her own stamp on it. None of those thoughts soothed her racing heartbeat, though. She paced in front of the windows where bright noon day sunlight streamed in while pushing her spectacles back onto the bridge of her nose. Where was he? Surely, he wouldn’t beg off at the last second and embarrass her. She smoothed her palms down the front of her gown.
The emerald satin was cool against her skin, but the ruffle at the hem and around the edges of the tulip petals of the overskirt brought strength to her confidence. Two dear little fabric rosettes on the hem ruffle made her think of a garden she’d seen once in a painting. The matching slippers pinched her toes, but they were equally as beautiful. Beneath the gown that had cost an enormous amount of coin—gifted to her with Andrew’s compliments—she wore garments she’d purchased for herself: fine lawn petticoat and shift, both embroidered with green vines and leaves as well as pink rosebuds, and the embroidered stockings that had been in her basket that first day she’d met Andrew. Never had she been outfitted in such finery.
This day was much like a dream, except for the delinquent groom. A slight pang of sadness went through her chest. And the absence of her parents. She touched a fingertip to the silver locket around her neck. It would have been more special if she could have them back for one moment so they could know that she’d taken steps to secure her future.
The clearing of a masculine throat brought Sarah out of her musings. “Are you quite certain Lord Hadleigh wishes to marry you?” The question from her great uncle rankled, and she turned to look at him. He and his wife sat on a low sofa near the center of the room—the only official guests. Witnesses really. “Perhaps you misunderstood the conversation.”
“That’s easy to do,” her aunt agreed with a sage nod that had her double chin wagging. “A woman your age with no prospects or offers can often see her mind playing tricks.”
Oh, drat.Sarah huffed out a frustrated breath. Her spectacles slid down her nose. After today, she wouldn’t need to pander to these two, for her obligation had ended at teatime yesterday. Andrew had sent a coach for her. Whereupon she’d taken her one trunk and a carpetbag, tucked herself into the vehicle, and proceed to leave her great uncle’s home for the last time. The night before she’d slept in the most luxurious suite of rooms she’d ever seen, and now she was here…
Waiting.
WouldAndrew show? Was he even now suffering through an attack? “There was nothing to misconstrue, Auntie,” Sarah finally said in response. “He will be here.” She tamped the urge to lash out with the anger brewing deep in her chest. This was not the time nor place to let her temper fly. “If you’ll notice, the vicar hasn’t arrived either.”
Of course, that fact didn’t help her cause.
Her great uncle and aunt exchanged a speaking glance. Obviously, neither expected there to be a wedding here today.
A tremble of worry moved up her spine as she pushed the eyewear back into place. Sarah faced the window once more and fought against the rise of unshed tears crowding her throat. Please, Andrew, keep your promise. A few fat, puffy clouds moved to block the sun, and the resulting shadows were almost mocking with their indifference. Then, a commotion and the rustle of fabric at the door had her spinning about.
He’s here!Her pulse hammered behind her ribs as he came into the room, resplendent and oh so handsome in his dark formal clothes.
“I apologize for my tardiness, but I wanted to extend an invitation to my staff in the event they wished to serve as witnesses.” The earl stood aside.
A few women came into the room, followed by the man she’d seen as the butler, as well as another man who nodded at Andrew as he passed. All of them glanced at her with speculation and interest in their expressions. Briefly last night she’d met the butler as well as the housekeeper, but at the moment, she couldn’t recall their names. Finally, the local vicar entered. In his somber and plain back suit with the white contrasting collar, he was every bit how she’d envisioned he would look on this day.
“You would have servants at your nuptial ceremony?” Her great uncle stood as Andrew made his way to him. He made it sound as if the earl had invited vermin into the room.
Now she knew exactly where she’d stood with her relatives.
“Why not? They’ve been much like family to me, and quite frankly, they’re a fat lot less aggravating,” Andrew responded smoothly, his baritone rumbling through the room. When her aunt stood, he greeted them both. “I trust you’ll forgive me for taking away someone as incomparable as Miss Copeland.”
“Of course, of course,” her great uncle enthused as he pumped Andrew’s hand. “We hate to give her up.”
“Yes,” her aunt said as she dropped as shaky curtsy. “She’s been ever so valuable to us. The children are sad to see her go.”