Sarah gave Meg a condemning glare. “He’s a dearfriend.” But even as she said it, the words he’d spoken to her last night on the veranda punctured her heart.Tell me you feel absolutely nothing for me. Tell me we’re merelyfriends.
“Stop it.” Lucy slapped her glove against her knee this time. “I know he’s more than a friend.”
“He is,” Meg agreed.
Sarah’s voice was measured, as calm as she could make it. Ignoring Meg, she merely said, “I don’t want this to come between you and me, Your Grace.”
“Ah, enough of that ‘Your Grace’ business. I consider you a friend, Sarah, and I’ve no wish to upset you. I’m simply trying to get you to see reason. I don’t think you fully understand how miserable you will be married to a man you don’t love.”
“Thank you for your concern, Lucy, but I—”
Lucy held up a hand. “You’re one of the most stubborn chits I know. Did anyone else ever tell you that?”
“She’s stubborn all right,” Meg agreed, pushing a blond curl away from her forehead.
“Yes, both Meg and Mrs. Goatsocks like to inform me of that on a regular basis,” Sarah replied with a long-suffering sigh.
“Meg and Mrs. Goatsocks are correct.” Lucy stood and began to pull on her gloves again. “Very well, Sarah, you’ve left me little choice. We must fight this battle on another front entirely.”
Meg stood to leave, too.
Sarah watched them go, more than a bit afraid of what exactly Lucy Hunt had meant by that last statement.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Lucy Hunt marched unannounced into Christian’s breakfast room the next morning, drawing off her expensive kid gloves, a decided frown on her face. “You’re not going to let Sarah marry that ninny Branford, are you?”
Christian nearly choked on the piece of melon he’d been eating. “Good morning to you, too.”
“This is serious, Christian. She’s perfectly miserable.”
I’m perfectly miserable, too.“I’m not certain how you’d expect me to have any say in the matter.”
“Ask her to marry you.”
This time, Christian nearly spit out his coffee. He set down his cup to be safe. Lucy had no idea what she was asking of him. Especially not after what had happened on the veranda with Sarah at the Rutherfords’. But he suspected his friend hadn’t seen the kissing part. Which proved there was a God as far as Christian was concerned. Still, Lucy could be adamant when she made up her mind about something. He must handle her carefully this morning, nonchalance being the order of the day.
He pretended to study his newspaper. “The last time I checked, the lady was engaged to another man. I may not have the most exquisite manners in the kingdom, but I know proposing to a betrothed woman is frowned upon.”
Lucy brandished her gloves in the air. “Oh, Christian, you’re being so thickheaded. She’s obviously miserable with him and perfect for you.”
He let the paper drop and gave her his best impression of a bored look. “What do you suggest, Lucy? That I pick her up, toss her over my shoulder, and cart her off to Scotland to elope?”
Lucy’s eyes widened. She stepped toward him. “Why, that’s an excellent idea!”
Christian rolled his eyes and turned back to the paper. “You cannot be serious. I was jesting.”
“Perhaps if wetellher we plan to cart her off… you know, so as not to unduly frighten her.” Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek, obviously contemplating the matter.
Christian refused to look up. “No, Lucy, no more schemes. She’s made up her mind.”
Lucy moved forward and braced both hands against the back of one of the chairs that sat around the table, forcing Christian’s gaze to return to her. “She doesn’t understand the consequences. She’s young and her parents are unreasonable.”
Christian pressed a palm against his right eye. “And not likely to look with favor upon a son-in-law who absconds with their daughter.”
“She’s been putting off the wedding,” Lucy said in a singsong voice.
Christian stiffened. He couldn’t help himself. “Did she tell you that? That she’s putting it off on purpose?”
