Sarah didn’t look at him. She couldn’t. “After that, I abhorred him. Every time he touched me, I cringed. Then I learned I was carrying a child.” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She hated remembering that moment when her life had irreversibly changed.
“Roland was not pleased to learn he was to be a father. After all, after that card game, he claimed he was not certain the child was his. I didn’t know, either. We argued. We always argued. We were in Clitheroe, a small village with a stone tower. It had been a lovely afternoon and Roland and I were out for a walk. He suggested we climb the tower’s stairs. On the way down the steps, he pushed me. I didn’t remember what happened but there was a witness. A vicar. I’m certain Roland had acted on impulse or else he would have been more careful about being seen. The fall was bad. I not only lost the baby but I nearly died from the blood loss. The midwife said I could never have children.”
Sarah took a deep breath and released it, steadying herself. There was so much she wished to forget and couldn’t. “I had always wanted children. I was devastated. I attempted to claim my own life and Roland put me away in an asylum.”
She closed her eyes a moment and then confessed, “I’ve witnessed horrors. A month after he put me in that place, the midwife who had tended me during my accident came to see a patient at the asylum. She recognized me and knew I should not be there. With her help, I was set free.”
“What of your husband?”
“He’d abandoned me in the asylum. Nor was I healthy when I left. I almost died there from lack of care. It took me months to regain my strength. The midwife took me in for that period of time. She told me I was better off without him. Of course, she was right but I struggled with the guilt of what I’d done to my child, to my marriage. Several years later, I received word he was dead.”
“Good. That saves me from hunting him down and killing him.”
Sarah looked at Gavin in surprise. She had not expected him to champion her.
“How long ago was this?” he asked.
“Fourteen years ago.”
He was quiet a moment and then said soberly, “Thank you for telling me. You were afraid last night. Now I understand.”
“Do you? Has anyone ever taken away your trust, your faith in yourself?”
“And yet you go on.”
“What else am I to do? I’m not a coward. Not anymore.”
In response, he slid his thumb into her fisted hand. Instinctively, at last, she opened her fingers and he laced their fingers together. It felt good to hold his hand this way.
It felt good to have told her story, and to receive compassion.
The hack pulled up at the hotel. Baynton opened the door, paid the driver and helped Sarah out. They were quiet as they entered the Reception. He retained his hold on her hand.
There were several people milling about but all was quiet. Still, Sarah felt they all stared as she walked with the duke. If he thought the same, he didn’t say.
Then again, he was the Duke of Baynton. He was accustomed to people noticing his presence.
They went upstairs and that is when she remembered the vial. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She now began to question Mr. Talbert’s request.
If she gave Gavin the draught, he would not be able to have sex with her. Mr. Talbert’s guess that everyone would believe his absence was due to her, would be correct, but for the wrong reasons. Gavin would know the truth. He was wise enough to sense a deception.
Would he be angry? She would be.
And what if she forgot the draught? What if she allowed him to make his own decision for his life? What if she did let him have her?
That thought startled her. She was no longer afraid. Gavin had managed to breach her defenses. This evening had added a new dimension to their relationship. She was beginning to trust.
The duke nodded to the floor steward who took up his candle and led them to their room. He opened the door with his own key and lit several candles in the room.
As light warmed the room, Sarah noticed the glasses from earlier had been moved and the decanter of whisky freshened. Perhaps that was the manner in a hotel such as this, but it made her nervous. She couldn’t help but imagine Mr. Talbert watching, managing.
Pour the vial in his glass and he’ll not wake until well into tomorrow afternoon. Then we shall have handled the matter with Rovington.
Those had been Mr. Talbert’s last instructions to her for the day. He hadn’t said who “we” were and she had been so rattled, she hadn’t asked.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she said, startled. “Why do you ask?”
