Christian rolled over on the bed, his arms splayed. “Damn it.”
Sarah scrambled up and frantically righted her clothing. “I don’t know what to say.”
He stood, too, and faced her. “Say you’ll leave him. Say you’ll marry me.”
She shook her head. Tears filled her eyes. “I want to. I do. I truly do, but—”
“But what? What else is there? Why would you stay with him when you don’t love him?”
“Are you sayingyoulove me?” She searched his face. If he only said yes. He had to say yes.
He pushed himself up on one elbow and savagely scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Sarah, I—I want to marry you. We are obviously attracted to each other. I know you care for me more than you care for him.”
Tentacles of ice clutched her heart. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t love her. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. Then she turned, grabbed her bonnet, and raced out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
That night, after she’d prepared for bed and dismissed her maid, Sarah stood and stared out the window of her guest bedchamber into the inky night sky. She wrapped her arms across her middle. It had been like touching a little piece of heaven kissing Christian today, feeling Christian touch her in the intimate way he had. She would never be able to forget it. Not a moment of it.
But there was only one problem. He hadn’t been able to tell her that he loved her. There might be passion between them, that much was obvious, but with her he was just doing what he always did, attempting to rescue a damsel in distress.
I’ll save you from him.Those had been his words. NotI love you madly and cannot live without you. How would a marriage based on being rescued be any better than one based on a heartless contract? No. Even if the threat of scandal weren’t hanging over her head, she refused to allow Christian to martyr himself for her. He’d already done so much to help her. She could ask no more of him.
She traced a finger along the windowpane. When she was a little girl, she’d dreamed about her wedding day. In her dreams, a wonderful man who loved her was by her side. But her childhood dreams had been shattered long ago. By the time she was barely thirteen, she’d been told in no uncertain terms that her parents had other plans for her. Plans they’d had from the day she was born. They’d dressed her up like a doll and trotted her out into Society and intended to hand her off to the most socially advantageous bridegroom. She’d known it would happen. She’d been prepared for it, or thought she was. That’s how it worked in their world. Why, she had half a score of friends who’d married last year while barely knowing their husbands, let alone being in love with them. She had been told since she was a girl that she must do as she was told. That’s all there was to it. Fine. Meg seemed intent upon remaining unattached while she pined for Hart. But that was different. Meg didn’t have a dowry. She didn’t have a string of suitors lined up. She could afford to at least pretend to follow her heart. Sarah didn’t have that luxury. Shemustdo as she was told. She couldnotshame her parents.
Blast Lucy Hunt and her friends for making Sarah think she should ever expect anything more. All of them appeared to be madly in love with their spouses. But that wasn’t the usual way of things in theton. Their marriages were special. Different. Not everyone had such good fortune.
Sarah might not love Lord Branford and she had no illusions that he loved her, but he was well connected, rich, powerful, and not entirely bad looking. He wasn’t cruel or a spendthrift or a lout. He seemed healthy enough and had decent teeth. He could be a much worse choice for a husband, after all. Once they were married, they probably wouldn’t even spend much time in each other’s company. Like most of the married couples in theton,they would live quiet, happy, separate lives, especially after she did her duty and produced an heir or two. That’s the way it was supposed to happen. It was quite tidy, actually.
The only untidy thing was her feeling for Christian. Why did she have towanthim so? She thought about him, dreamed about him, lay awake at night imagining what it would be like to be with him, have a life with him. The worst part was, she already knew a little how it would be. Their time together in Scotland had taught her.
A soft knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She turned toward the sound. “Come in.”
The door opened and her mother stepped inside. “I was hoping I’d catch you before you fell asleep.”
“You did.” Sarah left the window and made her way over to the bed, where she sat down on the edge. Her mother joined her, a worried look on her face.
“What is it, Mother?”
Her mother folded her hands in her lap. “I was going to wait to tell you this until after we returned to London, but I think it’s best you know now.”
Panic rose in Sarah’s chest. “Know what?”
“Your father spoke to Lord Branford. They decided the wedding should be sooner than later. The men have agreed that you’ll marry in three weeks’ time, as soon as the banns are read.”
Sarah pressed a hand to her chest. She couldn’t breathe. “As soon as the banns are read?”
“Yes, dear. There’s no use putting it off any longer. I know you have your nerves, which is quite normal for a young bride. But there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll tell you everything you need to know and—”
“No, Mother, it’s not that. It’s—”
“What, dear?”
“I just…”
Her mother’s face turned serious, harsh. “Sarah, I know you’ve been preoccupied by Lord Berkeley.”
More panic. “What?”
