“Did you leave just before the wedding, then?”
“No.” She groaned again. “That’s what is even more mad. The wedding isn’t to be until spring. But I just had to go. Oh, I know I sound positively insane. It’s quite difficult to explain.” She shook her head sadly and pushed her stew around in her bowl with her spoon.
Christian had never heard of a lady who had the same sort of reaction to worry that he had. Tight chest? Fear? Walls closing in? He’d experienced the same sensations himself on more than one occasion. It was some sort of attack of the nerves that he dreaded. It didn’t sound positively mad to him in the least. “You plan to remain here till spring?”
Sarah’s hand paused on the spoon. “No. Of course not. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve always done everything I’ve been told. Never broken one rule. I cannot imagine Mother’s shock. I feel absolutely awful. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Christian rubbed his chin. “What did you think would happen if you ran away?”
She sighed. “I’m not a complete fool. I did have a plan. I took clothes and all the pin money I’d been saving for years. I decided to dress as a maid so I wouldn’t need help with my clothing.”
“Very astute of you.” He inclined his head. “But you brought a chaperone with you?”
“I never intended for Mrs. Goatsocks to come.”
Christian let that part go for the moment. “Why did you save your pin money?”
“No particular reason. I simply abhor shopping. The only things I ever bought were gifts for Mother and Father and Hart and Mrs. Goatsocks and my maid.”
“Hart?”
“My elder brother.”
“Ah, yes, Highfield’s heir. What was your plan once you got to your father’s hunting lodge?”
She took such a long draught of wine that she drained the glass. She stood to retrieve the bottle from the table near the hearth. “I hoped to create a scandal. Hopefully one that would be bad enough that Lord Branford would ask Father to destroy the marriage contract.”
Christian’s lips twitched with humor. “And if that didn’t work?”
“That was my entire plan. How could it not work? Who would want a wife who’d been missing and unchaperoned?”
Christian eyed her up and down. Clearly the young woman had little idea how appealing she was. He doubted Branford would let some idle gossip stop the wedding.
“And now I feel like an idiot,” Sarah continued, “and dear Mrs. Goatsocks has been injured and poor Mr. Fergus had to go out in the snow just before a storm and it’s all my fault.”
His bowl clean, Christian leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his middle. “Well, the stew you cooked is a sight better than anything Fergus has ever made, so I’m glad you’re here for the moment, at least.”
She tried to return his smile but couldn’t. “I’m sorry if I can’t quite see the humor in it. I’ve ruined my life.”
“You must have felt quite strongly to have taken such a risk.”
“I did. But now, now I feel as if I’ll never be able to fix it. Oh, why? Why did I run away so hastily?”
Christian rested his forearm atop his head. “It sounded to me as if you didn’t have a choice.”
“Father will never forgive me.”
“Do you forgive him? For betrothing you to Lord Branford?”
She blinked at Christian quizzically, as if she didn’t understand the question. “I’ve been expected to make a desirable match since I was young. If you’ve been to balls in London, you must know how these things go. And to marry a marquess? Well, it’s Father’s dream for me.”
Christian nodded. “I do know how these things go, but I also know that it isn’t unheard of for parents to take their children’s feelings into consideration when making such decisions.”
The look of confusion on her face deepened. “I never told them I didn’t want to marry Lord Branford.”
Christian’s arm fell away from his head and he sat up straight. “My dear girl, why ever not?”
“I was trying to be brave. Do the right thing. You know? Keep a stiff upper lip and all that.”
