Monroe’s bark of laughter echoed off the wooden bookshelves in the room. “I don’t doubt it, but you could have told her no.”
Christian snorted. “Do you know how difficult it is to say no to Lucy?”
Another laugh from Monroe. “Actually, I do.”
Christian’s eyes narrowed on the other man. “Don’t tell me, you lied to me. You’re up to her bidding tonight after all, aren’t you?”
“No. No. I’m not up to Lucy’s bidding. However, Imayhave had a talk with Cass earlier.”
Christian groaned. “Cass? Fine. You might as well come clean. What errand did Cass send you on?”
Monroe blew another set of smoke rings into the air. “No errand other than to remind you that you’ve helped many of us find love, and it’s high time you accepted some help yourself.”
Christian bowed his head. He was slowly being defeated by his own friends. It seemed the lot of them were conspiring against him. He expelled his breath. Very well. So be it. “How do you propose to help me?”
“Cass tells me that you want to speak with Sarah alone.”
“I never said—”
Monroe arched a brow at him. “Do you want to speak to her alone or don’t you?”
Christian rubbed his palm against his eye. “Bloody hell. Fine. Yes.”
Monroe grinned at him. “Excellent. Tomorrow afternoon, two o’clock, there’s a gamekeeper’s cottage on the far northern edge of the property.”
“How in the name of God—”
“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t question my methods.” He blew another set of smoke rings into the air. “Alex is helping with this, too. She’s pleased as punch to have the opportunity to be of assistance to you after what you’ve done for our relationship. Leave everything to us.”
“But—”
Monroe took a long sip of port. “The gamekeeper’s cottage. Two o’clock.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Sarah had absolutely no idea why Alexandra Hobbs was so insistent on showing her the far reaches of the Monroe estate. She supposed the woman was overly fond of the place since she would be the lady here one day. It was a lovely property. But by the time she and Lord Owen and Lady Alex had hiked all the way out to the far northern border, Sarah was beginning to wonder why she’d agreed to this “little walk” in the first place.
Her inability to sleep had returned with vigor last night after seeing Christian in the gardens yesterday afternoon. She’d managed to convince her mother that she had a headache and was served dinner in bed last night, thereby avoiding the dining room and any conversations fraught with anxiety. But she would have to face him sooner or later. She was certain of it. And she’d known it. She’d known all along when she’d come to Surrey that she would see him. He’d mentioned the wedding to her last winter in Scotland. Daphne Swift and Rafe Cavendish were two of Christian’s closest friends. She was the interloper here. She’d only come because her mother had insisted. Apparently, the wedding of a daughter and sister of an earl to a newly minted war-hero viscount was a social boon as far as her mother was concerned.
Sarah had spent the entire ride here going over their next meeting in her mind. What would she say to him? Whatcouldshe say to him? The last time they’d seen each other, she had been passionately kissing the man, then she’d run from him. Like a ninny. There weren’t many things onecouldsay after such an episode. Last night she’d been unable to come up with a single coherent thing to say to him. She’d agreed to go on this outing with Alex and Owen partly because she was a coward. If she left the house for a while, she’d have even less chance of running into Christian. But the outing had turned into a far greater adventure than she’d expected, and her feet ached.
“I really should be getting back,” she called to her companions, slowing her pace. “Mother wants me to have one more fitting for the gown I’m wearing for the wedding tomorrow morning and—”
“Ah, look, there. The gamekeeper’s cottage.” Alex pointed to a small whitewashed house resting on a low rise ahead of them. “Isn’t it quaint?”
“Very much so,” Sarah replied, barely glancing at the small structure. “But I should—”
“Let’s get a closer look.” Lord Owen set off at a brisk pace across the wide expanse of grass toward the cottage. Alex quickly picked up her skirts and followed.
Sarah glanced back toward the main house. She couldn’t very well traipse all the way back there alone. Her mother would wonder why she’d left her companions. No. She’d have to convince her friends that she needed to return.
“Wait for me,” she called, reluctantly picking up her skirts and following them.
By the time the three of them made it to the front door of the cottage, Sarah was out of breath and had a pebble in her slipper. Lord Owen was peering in a window, and Alex was studying the bright red flowers that spilled from the window planters.
“Is the gamekeeper in there?” Sarah asked, bracing a hand against the cottage wall in order to pluck off her slipper and shake out the errant pebble.
“Father isn’t employing a gamekeeper at the moment,” Lord Owen replied, still peering in the window.
