Sarah's Duke: and Ellie's Gentleman (The heir and the spare, book 1) (5 page)

“I don’t know what name or title to call you by.” Sarah turned wide, innocent eyes on him and Oliver wanted to kick himself. Oh hell!

Lady Charlotte and Lord John both burst into amused laughter.

Sarah looked back at them quickly, startled.

Oliver glared at his friends. They must have thought it an amazing joke. They had found the only woman in London society who didn’t know every detail about him, down to his shoe size.

“May I present His Grace, the Duke of Lincoln, formerly Oliver Lyre.” John announced to Sarah, with another bow and a great flourish of his right hand.

Sarah pulled back her hand from his jacket sleeve so quickly it was painful. She took a step back from him with a wounded look in her huge violet eyes.

“I thought... you said... ah... oh my,” Sarah stuttered as she stumbled back towards the ballroom. Without even a backwards glance, she picked up her skirts and ran from the balcony.

Oliver watched her run away from him in a state of shock. What would possess her to run from him like that? He hadn’t told her his title when they had met, but surely it would be an advantage to him, not a disadvantage? Her words floated back through his mind, “
I do not have the bloodlines to attract a title
.” And he possessed one of the highest titles in London, save for royalty. Maybe she was embarrassed she’d made such a statement? Maybe she truly did want a title and was now shocked that she had missed the opportunity? He had no idea what she was thinking, but he had to find out.

Blindly, he moved to follow her, but a strong hand wrapped around his forearm and held him, preventing him from moving forward.

“Unless you intend to marry that girl, I suggest you don’t go after her,” warned the voice of reason.

Oliver’s spine stiffened as he looked up at that voice, that of one of his oldest friends. John’s brown eyes burned into his own and Oliver felt his surprise turning to anger.

“I just wanted to see if she was all right.” He shook off John’s arm.  “I think she was embarrassed that she didn’t know I was a Duke.” Oliver bit out, spitting out his title as though it tasted foul.

“Well of course she was embarrassed. It’s obvious the girl likes you,” Charlotte hissed. “I’ll go to the retiring room, I’m sure that is where she would have gone.”

Charlotte moved away with her regal air and John pulled Oliver back towards the edge of the balcony. There was a crowd gathering now. The sight of a debutante running from the balcony had indeed caused a stir. Ladies didn’t run, ever.

“Well?” Lord John asked him, his eyes narrowing.

“Well what, John?” Oliver turned away from his friend and faced the trees that moments ago had been his saving grace from other embarrassing questions.

“Why didn’t you tell that poor girl who you were? She looked at you like you were the devil himself just now. People will be talking about this for weeks,” he gestured ominously to the crowd behind them, which seemed to be getting bigger.

“I didn’t really get the chance the other night between trying to avoid being seen and smuggling her out of the party before anyone saw her.” Oliver justified, hotly. What did John want from him?

“And tonight?”

Good question. Tonight he had been enjoying her honest answers and beautiful face too much to let her know that he should be on the very top of her list of ‘good catches’.

“I was getting to it, all right?” Oliver all but grunted at his friend.

John looked at him strangely, then rested his back against the balustrade.

“She’s quite beautiful,” John said airily, waving one hand like a dandy.

“Who is?” Oliver asked through his teeth

“Miss Collins, of course,” John grinned, enjoying the obvious discomfort his comment had caused. “Did you see those eyes? And those breasts! If a man ever wanted to dream up a woman, that is what she would look like.” He sighed grandly and before Oliver knew it he was grabbing his best friend by the lapels and almost pushing him off the edge of the balcony.

“Do not talk about her like that.”

His heart was pumping hard and his hands were clenching around the black material of John’s collar.

John’s smile seemed forced as he answered. “Why ever not? Are you planning on marrying her, after all?” His tone was serious, though they both knew Oliver had no marital plans for the near future.

Oliver looked down at his hands, clenched in his friend’s evening jacket and hastily stepped back, letting go as he did so. “I apologize.”

John just quirked one eyebrow again, asking him a silent question.

“I think I’m protective of her after what happened the other night, that is all.” Oliver reached for the easiest answer. That sounded like a plausible excuse for almost doing harm to a man he had known for over thirteen years, just because he’d admired Sarah.

John pulled Oliver further away from the door before asking him quietly, “Do you know what happened to her?”

“Not exactly, I didn’t ask her for specific details. Her dress was torn and her back was scratched, but Sarah said she fought him off before he could do too much damage.”  Imagining again what Millington had actually planned for Sarah had made him angry and his fists had clenched at his sides. He consciously relaxed them.

“Fight him off? How? She’s so small, she’d fit in your pocket.” John had as much respect for Patrick Millington as Oliver had, even before that night. They both knew him to be a nasty drunk and a stupid gambler, but a rapist of an innocent? They didn’t think he was that bad.

“Charlotte told me later that Millington had come back to the ballroom with blood around his eyes, from where she scratched him.” A smirk rose onto Oliver’s face as he imagined his little angel turning into a hellcat. Amazing

John gave a low whistle and shook his head.

“Let’s go back inside and see what my darling sister has discovered.”

They both headed back to the ballroom with a similar feeling of dread, why oh why had they come to a marriage mart event?

Three

Inside the ladies retiring room, sat two ladies, one sobbing and one consoling. Charlotte had walked into the small room and found Sarah, mercifully alone. Charlotte had taken one look at that red and tear-stained face and locked the door.

“What has happened, Miss Collins?” Charlotte reached over and began stroking her arm.

“I didn’t know... he was a... Duke,” Sarah sobbed against the shoulder offered to her. She was aware that Charlotte was a Duke’s daughter, and far above her station, but at this moment, she was grateful for the kindness being shown to her.

Charlotte laughed softly, the sound musical.

“So?”

“I... thought he... liked me,” Sarah wept through the words, unable to rationally explain why she was so upset. She shouldn’t be so disappointed, but her chest ached as though her heart was breaking.

Charlotte sighed and her shoulder slumped a little beneath Sarah’s cheek.

“So what’s wrong with that? Can’t he like you and be a Duke?” Charlotte asked gently.

“No!” Sarah jumped to her feet and stared at the beautiful woman. “You don’t understand, I wasn’t taught to worship a title, I was taught to fear and respect one.” Sarah blurted out unthinkingly. She blushed when she realized to whom she was speaking, but ploughed on nonetheless.

“People like Oliver don’t marry little nobodies like me,” Sarah added with a single tear rolling down her cheek. She wiped at it with the back of her hand and glanced towards the mirror in the corner.

It was Charlotte’s turn to jump up.

“Did he give you a reason to think that an offer of marriage was forthcoming?”

“No, of course not,” Sarah mumbled, truly embarrassed now. “I just built it up in my head after his gallant rescue the other night. I need to marry this year and he was the first person I thought might actually suit, but, oh, what am I saying? He told me he wasn’t interested in marrying in the foreseeable future, but we get along so well, and it’s so easy to talk to him.”

Charlotte was nodding encouragingly. “How can I help you?” 

“Oh Lady Charlotte, you have already been of so much assistance, I do not know how to thank you. Goodness me I have been such a trouble to you already.” Sarah sighed and slid onto a chair. She had never been in trouble in her life and she now found herself in tears twice in two nights. What had become of her?

“I meant to ask as well, are you feeling better after last night? I’m afraid Patrick Millington has got away almost scot-free whilst you now have a reputation for being quite, shall we say, violent.” A wry smile touched Charlotte’s lips.

Sarah’s shoulders slumped further. She was feeling utterly exhausted. “Thank you for being honest about that. I can only imagine what he told people.”

“He just said you took offence to something he said and attacked him. Which all in all, isn’t too bad.”

“Considering what he actually did, then yes, not too bad.” Sarah agreed, tears welling up again and sliding down her cheeks.

“Perhaps we ought to get you home, Miss Collins.” Charlotte reached out and helped to pin up a curl that had fallen down in Sarah’s mad rush from the balcony.

“Please, call me Sarah.” She said, ignoring the protocol that suggested that Lady Charlotte, being of higher rank, must offer first.

“I would love to, and you may call me Charlotte.”

“Oh, no I could not, Lady Charlotte. I just thought considering I have soaked your beautiful dress with my tears the least I could do was offer you the option to address me by my Christian name.” Sarah sniffed sadly, wiping her face again. She felt she was so untidy.

Charlotte smiled.

“Sarah, you must definitely address me by my first name. Now let’s see if I can get my carriage brought around and you can get home before anyone spots your tears.”

Sarah’s head swung around to the mirror and was horrified to see how red and blotchy her face was. She swallowed her pride and said, “I would greatly appreciate that.”

Later that night, Sarah lay in her bed, reliving each precious moment she had had with Oliver, because she knew she would have no more. She was resigned to marrying someone else now, she had no option but to do so. She would plead a cold for a few days, adjust her expectations and start her spouse hunt again the following week.

*****

For the following three nights, Sarah didn’t attend a single event. By the third night, Oliver was desperate. He could not remember the last time he had attended so many balls in one week.  Yet he had still turned up tonight, hoping she would come out of hiding.

“She’s not here,” came a voice to his right.
Bloody Charlotte.
She stepped in front of him, looking poised and beautiful in her gown of pink silk.

“Do you know why?” He was too worried to feign ignorance. His eyes searched hers for any clues.

Lady Charlotte smiled smugly, pausing for suspense. “Of course I do.”

“Well? Are you going to tell me or do I have to drag it out of you?” Oliver demanded, raising his voice and causing their neighbours to turn their heads towards them.

“Sarah has decided she needed a couple of days off the circuit, but she intends to attend the opera tomorrow evening, as my guest.”

Charlotte said this as though she had known Sarah for years. Oliver wanted to punch his fist through a wall. Charlotte barely knew Sarah and yet
she
knew where the girl was!

“But why did she need a couple of days off? I thought she wanted to marry as soon as possible.” Oliver dropped his voice when he noticed the interested looks they were getting.

“You’ll have to ask her, I’m afraid.” Lady Charlotte smiled smugly again and Oliver had an overwhelming urge to wrap his hands around her smug neck. He knew he’d made a blunder with Sarah, but did Charlotte have to make him feel worse than he already did?

“Oh bother.” Charlotte’s eyes widened and she fluttered her fan in front of her face.

Oliver turned to look in the direction in which she was looking.

“What’s wrong?” He looked around the ballroom for something to justify her present stricken look, but couldn’t see anything.

“Here comes your sanctimonious friend.”

Oliver had never seen that particular look on Charlotte’s face before. She looked truly uncomfortable, a faint blush rising in her normally pale cheeks and her eyebrows were low and tight over her angry sparkling blue eyes.

“Archie? What’s wrong with Archie?” Oliver asked, baffled. Charlotte could not be having such a strong reaction to his quiet friend. Could she?

“He always makes me feel like I’m a tease because I have refused more than one marriage proposal. How does he even know about them?”

“Everyone knows about the men you have turned down, Charlotte.” Oliver grinned, elated that Charlotte was the one feeling uncomfortable now.

“Well, it shouldn’t be common knowledge.” Charlotte was truly scowling now and Oliver struggled to contain his laugh.

“Archie, old boy.” Oliver greeted his friend, feeling better than he had in days.