Chapter Eighteen
July 19, 1817
Sarah’s nerves felt strung too tight. Her heart was being pulled in two directions. She glanced at her maid, but Tilly was busy packing one of the two trunks they would take with them. With nothing else to do, she moved to glance out of a window of her bedroom. Gray, overcast skies, clouds swollen with even more rain than they’d already received didn’t bode well for the upcoming trip to Brighton, but it couldn’t be helped.
She touched a fingertip to the window glass, traced the path of a raindrop as it raced to the bottom. It was critical that she remove from Derbyshire now, for she’d missed her menses last week and that had never happened before. A trace of excitement buzzed down her spine, but she refused to let herself hope for what it might mean. However, it was entirely possible that she’d become with child the first time she’d had relations with a man. No wonder she’d been an incessant watering pot of late.
And if was true, even if it were too early to be certain or have a midwife examine her, it was best to make a clean break from her husband and settle in Brighton so she could start her life anew—again.
Without him.
A wad of tears lodged in her throat. No amount of swallowing would disburse the blockage. Before he’d left for London, the week they’d spent together, the wonderful afternoon in the drawing room, had been some of the best days she’d ever experienced. He had made such progress, and even when he’d been in the midst of a temper when the missive from his mother arrived, he’d almost had a breakthrough.
Too bad he’d let anger get the better of him. He’d had a choice, and he’d taken it. Never would he gain control of his emotions, which meant he wouldn’t change. Not really. Perhaps the charming gentleman he’d been during his week of courting her had been false, and she’d been a woman desperate for love, so she’d believed the act.
No more. I am not foolish nor am I stupid. I won’t live with a violent, emotionally cold man.
Neither would the babe she possibly carried. How horrible for a child to grow up in a world where its father was a snarling beast most of the time. She had to protect it, insulate it from that, and instead show it love, for everyone deserved that.
Unfortunately, she would never know that from her husband.
“My lady, I’ve finished with the unmentionables and shoes. Which gowns and dresses would you like to take?”
The sound of Tilly’s voice brought Sarah out of her tortuous thoughts. She turned about to face the young woman. Perhaps eighteen, the girl had come highly recommended by a neighbor, and Sarah had been all too willing to give her a chance. She showed promise and could be trained into a vital member of the staff.
“Let’s bring a few dresses and only two evening gowns. I plan to live simply and quietly, but if fancier gowns are needed, I’ll hire a modiste.” Of course they would be regardless of whether or not she planned to entertain, for if she were increasing, she’d need roomier clothing.
“As you wish, my lady.” Excitement wove through the maid’s voice. “I’ve never been to Brighton nor have I seen the sea.”
A ghost of a smile curved Sarah’s lip. “Neither have I, so we’ll experience it together. Perhaps we’ll embark on charity work.” She glanced at the case that her flute reposed in. Or perhaps she might find a local orchestra in the holiday town that might wish to hire a flutist of some talent.
“My lady, if I may have a word?”
Sarah glanced at the open door where Mrs. Hastings stood, her expression filled with distress. “Of course.” She crossed the room and joined the housekeeper in the corridor. “What is it, Mrs. Hastings? Is something wrong?”
“Everything is wrong!” The older woman spoke in hushed tones while she wrung her work-roughened hands together. “It’s not right you’re going. We were excited when His Lordship announced he’d marry, and we’ve all adored having you here at Hadleigh Hall. You’ve brought life to this old house again.” A frown pulled at her lips and creased her round face. “If it’s the earl that’s the problem, tell him to stay in London. The staff here has really enjoyed having a lady about again. Perhaps you can roust him from this manor.”
A bit of hysterical laughter rose in her throat, but she tamped the urge to release it. Instead, she pushed her spectacles into place. “It’s a lovely property and I have grown fond of you all.” She hesitated. Was she making a mistake in leaving? Then she shook her head. No, this was for the best. Andrew would come back soon. She couldn’t bear to see him as the same man she’d first met, as if their time together hadn’t happened, for being with his family again would cause his regression.
The housekeeper frowned. “For a time, we thought…”
“So did I, Mrs. Hastings.” Sarah laid a hand on the older woman’s arm. “However, I suppose it simply wasn’t meant to be.” Another wave of silly tears filled her eyes. She looked away, hoping they’d fade. “Perhaps had he not gone to London…” If that letter had never come, they might have made a go of it.
“If it makes a difference, the earl didn’t want to leave you.”
“What?” Sarah snapped her gaze to the housekeeper’s face as her heartbeat accelerated. “Why would you say that?”
A tinge of a blush stained the older woman’s cheeks. “I overheard him speaking with Barton in the hall upstairs. He was anxious, but it was different than usual. He worried about what would happen to you, said that perhaps he should let Major Storme—his brother—do without him.”
“Did his valet convince him otherwise?”
“Oh, no, my lady. Barton said Derbyshire was the best place for him. That his time here had made a difference in his temperament.”
Sarah snorted. “But he did leave, didn’t he?” At least it wasn’t just her advice he didn’t listen to. “The earl hasn’t learned anything during our marriage.” The last was said on a sob. “He’d showed such promise a few times, but never could he let go enough to walk into that new life with me.” She shouldn’t tell a servant such things, but she considered some of them family, related to them better than she might with snobbish lords and ladies of the ton since she’d been more or less one of them, and Mrs. Hastings had been so kind to her on her wedding night…
“Oh, but he has changed, my lady.” The housekeeper nodded so vigorously, her double chin wobbled. “He also wants his family happy.”
Sarah huffed. “He wants their approval of his being an arse.” Then her eyes widened, and she gasped. “I shouldn’t have said that.”