Regency Surrender: Passion And Rebellion. Louise Allen

the picnic and then our guests for the evening you forgot?’

      ‘I have it ready. It was my intention to give it to you in the morning.’ Leaving her door ajar, Sarah walked

      to her desk, pulled open the bottom drawer and took out her writing box. She took the key from the pocket of her robe and opened the box, extracting the slim paper sealed with wax. As she turned, she saw that he had followed her in and closed the door and her breath caught in her throat. ‘Lord Myers...should you have done that?’

      ‘Probably not,’ he said. ‘You look so lovely, Sarah. You make me want to do this...’ Before she knew what he was about, he reached out and drew her into his arms, lowering his head to kiss her on the mouth. It was a sweet soft kiss that made her pulses race, but she stepped back, putting her fingers to her lips.

      ‘You must not. You really must not, sir.’

      ‘Rupert. Please, call me Rupert.’

      ‘You should go at once. This is impossible.’

      ‘Is it really so impossible, Sarah?’

      ‘You know it is. It must be...in the circumstances.’

      Did he think she was prepared to have an affair with him? What was he thinking of? Did he imagine that she would become his mistress out of gratitude? The thought was painful and she pushed it to a tiny corner of her mind.

      ‘Have you been drinking, Rupert?’ She could taste the brandy on his lips.

      ‘Yes, just a little,’ he said and then laughed ruefully. ‘Too much. The way you look and the wine...a powerful combination, my dear. Forgive me. I am merely human—and you are very desirable. You do not realise the effect that cool exterior with just a hint of the fire below can have on a man. Thank you for the letter and your trust. Goodnight and sleep well.’

      ‘Goodnight, Rupert.’

      Sarah closed the door behind him, pressing fingers that trembled slightly to her mouth. His kiss had been so sweet—so tempting. She had wanted it to go on...to be so much more than a kiss. A hunger so swift and so powerful swept over her that she cried out as if in pain. She had never felt like this before in her life, never wanted anything so badly that it hurt. Her whole being longed to call him back, to take him by the hand and lead him to her bed.

      No, she would not be foolish. Rupert had admitted that it was merely the wine and the sight of her in her nightclothes. He was a confirmed rake and accustomed to taking a mistress whenever he chose. She must not condemn him for a mere slip of manners. He had not tried to force himself on her and had apologised for his lapse.

      Sarah’s problem was not that he had insulted her by kissing her, but that she had wanted more. Earlier she had been regretting that he kept a distance between them. Her heart had leaped at his touch, but her good sense had told her she could not conduct an affair with him while they were both staying under the same roof as Francesca. It would be most improper and might lead to a scandal that could reflect badly on the young woman.

      Would she have had an affair with him if it hadn’t been for Francesca’s reputation? Sarah thought about it as she slid into bed and pulled up the covers. Her lips still tingled, and at the thought of the caresses that might have been, the rest of her body felt suffused with heat. She was desperately attracted to him. His absence these next few days would cause her grief, but his presence might be even more distressing.

      Sarah had promised to stay with Francesca until she’d had her Season in town. In return, Lord Myers was sorting out her problems. She could not renege on her bargain even if she wanted to—so she was just going to have to keep a tight rein on her emotions.

      * * *

      Alone in his own room, Rupert threw himself down on the bed, lying staring at the ceiling. What had possessed him to kiss her that way? She’d looked so delectable in her night attire that he’d been seized with a sudden need. Had she not drawn away from him, he might have carried her to the bed and made passionate love to her, thereby sealing both their fates.

      He’d flirted with Lady Rowton that evening in an effort to put Sarah out of his mind, but she had taken root there and was beginning to haunt him day and night.

      Surely he wasn’t thinking of marrying her? Taking her as his mistress was not an option now that they had become friends and he knew she was a respectable young woman.

      It was marriage or nothing. Was he ready to cast off his past and take that step? Was he ready to trust again?

      As well that he was going away on her business and his own. He needed time to get things into perspective and decide where his future lay.

       Chapter Nine

      ‘Monsieur Dupree is so funny,’ Francesca said as they picked roses for the house that morning, clipping the long stems and taking care not to prick themselves as they placed the buds carefully in their baskets. ‘But he’s sweet, too—and he likes you so much, Sarah.’

      ‘I agree that he is charming. I hope you are not infatuated, dearest?’

      Francesca laughed delightedly. ‘Oh, he doesn’t want to seduce me. Andre has far too much sense. He knows that he must make his living and any such nonsense would result in his being dismissed without a reference. He might never work again. No, you are the one he wants to seduce, Sarah. He says you are a rose without compare.’

      ‘Well, he is French,’ Sarah said and her friend went into another peal of laughter. ‘Besides, I told you. I need a widower—a nice sensible English gentleman who will take care of my business.’

      ‘I still cannot believe how rich you are,’ Francesca said and inhaled the perfume of a dark red rose. ‘It is such a romantic story—you coming here to escape a persistent fortune hunter. I was so lucky that you changed places with Miss Goodrum. If you hadn’t, we might never have met.’

      ‘I should have regretted that,’ Sarah said and looked at her with affection, feeling glad she had decided to confide her whole story in the girl. ‘I think these past weeks have been some of the happiest of my life.’

      The one thing to mar her content was the way she felt about Lord Myers. A part of her wanted to give in to the need he aroused in her, but she knew that she would be a fool to give her body—and perhaps her heart—to a rake.

      ‘Do you think we have enough roses?’

      ‘Yes, quite enough, because it’s nice to have fresh ones often. Shall we go and arrange them...?’ She paused as they turned the corner to the front of the house. ‘It seems we have visitors....’ Two gentlemen had just dismounted and grooms were leading their horses away.

      ‘I wonder who it can be?’ Francesca said and her eyes sparkled. They had received visits from most of their neighbours in the past week and Francesca was enjoying herself, because several gentlemen had been paying her compliments. ‘Oh, I do believe it is Mr Monks.’

      Sarah smothered a sigh, because Francesca looked so pleased. The young man had visited three times already and seemed intent on fixing his interest with Francesca, though as yet Sarah was not sure how she felt.

      ‘There’s someone with him...I think it’s Sir Roger. He must have come down for a visit.’

      Sarah’s throat caught as she looked at the second gentleman and knew him. It was the very man she’d come here to avoid. Could he know she was here or was it a coincidence?

      The gentlemen had become aware of them and turned to wait for them to reach the steps leading up to the portico. James Monks had eyes only for Francesca, but Sir Roger was staring at Sarah, his gaze narrowed and intent. Sarah felt certain he’d known she was here all the time.

      ‘Ah, Miss Hardcastle, Miss Francesca,’ James Monks said and bowed. ‘I was sure you would not mind my bringing Sir Roger with me? He was most anxious to present himself when he knew you were staying with