Her shoe free of the small stone, Sarah joined Alex near the planters. “A pity for such a pretty little house to be empty.”
“Let’s go inside,” Alex said, motioning toward the door.
Sarah’s gaze flew to her friend’s. “Oh, but we really should—”
“Go on.” Lord Owen nodded. “I expect the door is unlocked.”
Sarah glanced at the little red door. She was standing closest to it. She hesitated for a moment but eventually decided that the sooner they looked about the place, the sooner her friends would be willing to return to the main house. She might as well get this over with.
She grabbed the door handle and turned it. Lord Owen was right. The door was unlocked. She pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was pleasant and swept clean. A small table and chairs, an unlit hearth, two wooden chairs near the fireplace, a large feather bed in the corner. It smelled faintly of dust and wood. But overall it looked quite pretty and tidy.
She was about to turn around to motion her friends inside when a movement from the corner of the room caught her eye. She looked again. A man was standing there. She gasped.
The man turned to face her. It was… Christian. He stood there in buckskin breeches, with a white shirt and cravat, a sapphire waistcoat, and black Hessians. His hair was slicked back and he was clean-shaven, as he had been since his return to town. The look on his face was unreadable, but his crystal-blue eyes met hers and fire leaped between them. Sarah braced a hand on the door frame. He was so handsome. She instantly wanted to touch him.
She took another step inside the room. Her breath caught in her throat. “What are you doing here?”
He slid his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to see you.”
She shook her head. “To seeme? But we—” She glanced behind her. No Alex and Lord Owen. The door was still open, but they weren’t there.
She stepped back outside and looked back and forth. Gone.
She reentered the cottage, completely confused. “Where did they—”
“They’ve probably continued their walk. They said they would give us some privacy.”
“Some priv…” Sarah’s mouth fell open. “You planned this? With Lady Alex and Lord Owen?”
“Yes.” Christian stepped closer to her. “I hope you’re not angry.”
She pushed the door shut behind her, to give herself a moment to think. How did she feel, exactly? How was she supposed to feel? He’d lured her here? For what reason? “No. I’m not angry. I… I don’t know what to think.”
He rested an arm against the fireplace mantel. “I didn’t know you were coming to this wedding until I saw you yesterday in the garden.”
Sarah untied her bonnet and pulled it from her head. She felt conspicuous suddenly, wearing it inside the cottage. Christian’s hat was sitting on the table. “We received a late invitation. Mother readily accepted because Lord Branford was invited. Apparently he knew the former earl, Lady Daphne’s father.”
Christian’s back stiffened. “Branford’s here? I didn’t see him at dinner.”
She quickly shook her head. “He’s not coming until tomorrow for the wedding itself. Seems the prince needs him at another dinner party this evening.”
Christian arched a brow. “That sounds like Branford. Always interested in the most prestigious invitation.”
Sarah tugged at the ribbons of her bonnet. “You didn’t bring me here to talk about Lord Branford, did you, Christian?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m hoping you’ll listen. For just a moment.”
She took another step toward him. They were only a few paces apart. She tossed her hat onto the table beside his. He held out his hand to her and then let it fall back to his side. “Never mind. This was idiotic. I’m sorry I even thought of it. I should—”
She looked up at him. “Tell me. What did you want to say?”
He stared down at his boots. “Something that I doubt will make any difference.”
She took a deep breath. “Say it, Christian.”
He turned to face her. His gaze met hers. “What if I offered for you, Sarah? Would you cry off from Branford? Would you defy your parents?”
Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe she was hearing these words. That he was actually saying them. “Oh, Christian.”
