“My apologies, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances,” Christian said, gesturing toward the ramshackle conveyance that rested outside an inn where they had stopped for lunch. The driver didn’t look much better than his vehicle. He was a half-drunken man who slurred his speech and was wrapped in an understandably copious number of blankets that smelled a great deal of horse.
“It could be a good thing,” Christian explained when Sarah first saw the slovenly coachman. “Perhaps he won’t remember us.”
The story was that they were a newly married couple traveling together. Christian rode his own horse next to the coach most of the time, but when they stopped for a meal halfway through the day, they had their first chance to talk.
Sarah dunked a flaky crust of bread into the beef soup the innkeeper had given her. “When were you going to tell me you’re a viscount?” she asked sweetly.
Christian choked on the piece of carrot he’d been ingesting. He pounded his chest with his fist to clear his throat. “Wh-what?”
“You heard me.”
“Fergus told you?”
“Yes, Mr. Fergus told me. He told me that we’re going to yourestatein Northumbria. I assumed we were meeting at some place one of your friends lived.”
Christian didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s just a house and a bit of land.”
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me such a thing.”
Christian shrugged. “It didn’t seem important.”
“We were discussing your eligibility at length.” She glanced over her shoulder as she whispered this, obviously so the drunken driver (who was even at present drinking in the corner of the inn) wouldn’t overhear. The man seemed to be more interested in his ale and his lunch than anything Christian and Sarah were discussing, however.
“What does my being a viscount have to do with my eligibility?” Christian asked.
Sarah dunked another bit of bread into her soup. “You cannot possibly be serious.”
“I don’t want a wife who wants me for my title,” Christian whispered.
“Of course not, but I daresay you’ll have more ladies to choose from given that youdohappen to have a title.”
Christian took another bite of his soup and swallowed. “Mrs. Goatsocks told me you weren’t preoccupied by titles. Is she wrong?” He couldn’t help feeling a bit of a sting from her words. It was obvious that even now that she realized just how eligible he was, he was still herfriend. But he mentally chided himself for even having that thought. Sarah was engaged. Engaged to a marquess. And a marquess trumped a viscount.
Sarah’s eyes widened and she looked positively affronted. “Preoccupied by them, no. But we do live in a Society where they make a difference.”
Another bite of soup. “I wanted you to help me whether I was a viscount or not.”
She arched a brow. “You were testing me?”
He lowered his voice even further. “When you were brandishing a broadsword at me, you seemed to be quite proud of the fact that you were an earl’s daughter. I think you might understand why I wasn’t interested in rushing to bandy about my title.”
Sarah actually raised her voice a little, clearly perturbed. “That is understandable, I suppose. But afterward, when I was teaching you, helping you, you never saw fit to mention it?”
“By then it just seemed… indelicate.” He braced an elbow on the table.
“So, what? We were just going to pull up to your estate and I’d find out as soon as all the servants began calling you ‘my lord’?”
Christian rubbed the back of his neck. It did seem a bit silly now that she pointed it out. “Something like that.”
“And you saywomenare incomprehensible.” Sarah eyed him over the rim of her own glass of ale.
Christian had to smile at that. “I believe we’re even.”
She shook her head at him and returned her attention to her bread and soup. “Anything else you’re not telling me,my lord?”
***
The next morning, Sarah got her first glimpse of the “house and bit of land” that was Berkeley Hall. They drove through giant gates that led past a sweeping expanse of land that was covered with a light snow. The trees had lost all their leaves, but Sarah could imagine how glorious it must look in the summer. The ride up to the main house from the gates took twenty minutes, and they passed a frozen lake, more barren trees, and a sprinkling of outbuildings before they came to the estate.
