What with England and the United States at war, letters between Sarah and her niece were now difficult to exchange. If anyone could receive information, it would be the mighty Duke of Baynton.
Fear for Charlene gripped her. She stumbled to the door and cracked it open just as he was about to knock again. The light around the door was from the lantern in his hand. She threw the door open wider, squinting.
“Is all well with Charlene?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” he replied as he walked right by her, inviting himself in. He removed his hat and set it and the lantern on the table.
“Then what is so urgent?” Sarah asked, confused.
But he wasn’t paying attention to her. Instead, his gaze fixed on her bare toes peeking out beneath her nightdress and she remembered the warmth in his voice when he’d wondered earlier what else about her might also be naked. She tucked her toes in from his view, which only brought his interest to her tangled hair around her shoulders. Wherever he looked, it was as if he touched her, and she struggled with a desire to hide.
And then he announced, “I wish to spend the night with you.”
It took a moment for those words to penetrate her still sleep-heavy brain, but when they did, she almost laughed—until she realized he was serious.
His presence, his person, filled every nook of her mean little room. He was too fine to be here. Too full of vitality and life.
And of his own consequence.
Standing by the still open door, Sarah said, “That fact was established when you mentioned my breasts tonight, Your Grace, and complimented my legs. You will not be surprised by my answer—no. Now good night, or good day to you, whichever it is at this hour.” With a sweep of her hand, she urged him out the door.
He did not move. “Hear me out, and—” he continued as if knowing she would not be convinced, “if you still wish me to leave, then I will do so.”
“If?” In spite of her sarcasm, Sarah had a kernel of curiosity as well. Baynton had never taken a mistress. She’d heard the gossips among the actresses and dancers who kept track of that sort of thing. He was the most eligible bachelor in London and a prize for every conniving woman.
Furthermore, she’d never received an offer of this sort before.
Yes, when she’d been younger there had been men who chased; however, since the painful farce that had been her marriage, she’d never given anyone a chance to close in on her. She rather liked being her own person. A bad husband could do that to a woman.
She closed the door. “Speak.”
“You do not like me. I understand,” he hurried to add. “But I am not set against you.”
This was news to Sarah.
“I do find you headstrong,” he added, “and wrong thinking, but I believe that is no crime.”
“How generous of you, Your Grace.”
He didn’t react to her mild derision. Instead, he began pacing the small confines of her room, just as she’d done not more than an hour or two earlier.
“I have a problem,” he said. “I must marry. I will. I have money. I’m a duke. Some woman will want me.”
“Two have already said no,” she silkily reminded him.
He stopped. “Yes, they have and that is part of the difficulty. You are one of the few people who knows that I’ve done the honorable thing to let them marry the men of their choice. It was not because they faulted me. However, the rest of the world is not aware of the full story.” He paused as if wrestling with himself and then admitted, “Some see me as less of a man.”
“That is nonsense,” Sarah answered.
“And yet it is true.”
She wanted to refute his claim . . . then again, he was right. She’d heard whispers from small minds. They wondered what was wrong with him that Charlene had chosen another? And they had prodded Sarah, hoping to glean knowledge and were disappointed when she’d kept her mouth shut. She knew the gossips were unfair to Baynton; however, what could she say to help? Who cared what an actress thought?
He took her hand and brought her over to sit in one of the chairs. He pulled the other up so that they were facing each other, their knees so close they almost touched.
“Last night, Mrs. Pettijohn, you created a vision every man in that theater wanted.”
That was true. She had been a sensation. “I did not encourage them.”
