Sleepless at Midnight (14 page)

“We could go to the village and buy batting,” Julianne said. “The gentlemen have an archery tournament scheduled for tomorrow so the timing is perfect. I’d love an excursion to the shops.”

“That’s a sentence we should teach our Perfect Man to say,” Sarah said with a grin. “‘I’d love an excursion to the shops.’”

The ladies laughed, and Emily suggested, “Let’s make a list of things our Perfect Man would say and do.”

They all agreed to the idea. Sarah sat at the escritoire while the others seated themselves upon the bed’s ivory counterpane. Pen in hand, Sarah asked, “Besides loving an excursion to the shops, what else would he say?”

Julianne cleared her throat and adopted a deep voice. “‘Spending the day at my club isn’t important, darling. I’d much rather be with you.’”

“‘I’d love to dance again, my dear,’” added Emily in a manly tone.

“‘You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,’” came Carolyn’s suggestion.

“‘The most intelligent woman with the most interesting opinions,’” added Emily.

“‘I could talk to you for hours,’” said Julianne, her words ending on a wistful sigh.

“‘Are you tired, my dear? Why don’t you sit on the settee and let me rub your feet.’”

They all broke into giggles at Carolyn’s last suggestion, and Sarah’s hand flew across the vellum to jot down each idea.

“‘I love the sound of your name,’” said Emily.

An image of Lord Langston, dressed in his robe, his hair wet, his eyes roaming her face, flashed through Sarah’s mind. I recall your name…Miss Sarah Moorehouse.

“‘Your hair is beautiful,’” said Julianne.

Sarah’s hand hesitated and she closed her eyes, hearing his voice say those exact words.

“‘Your eyes as well,’” added Emily.

Has no one ever told you how lovely your eyes are?

“‘You smell beautiful,’” added Carolyn.

“Like a garden in the sunshine.” The words Lord Langston had murmured escaped Sarah before she could stop them and her head jerked up. And found her sister and friends nodding in approval. Knowing her face was flaming, Sarah applied her attention to her list with renewed zeal.

“I think he should say ‘I want to kiss you’ with unwavering frequency,” Julianne decreed. I want to kiss you. The words reverberated through Sarah’s mind, pulsing heat to her every nerve ending. She’d heard those very words only a short time ago. And they had indeed been perfect.

“And ‘I love you’ as well,” said Carolyn softly. “Those are the loveliest words I’ve ever heard.”

The wistful note in her sister’s voice tugged at Sarah, and she said softly, “I love you, Carolyn.”

Just as she’d hoped, her sister smiled. “I love you too, poppet.”

Sarah pushed up her glasses then asked, “What are some of the things our Perfect Man will do?”

“You mean besides accompany us to the shops, dance and talk with us, and tell us how magnificent we are?” asked Emily.

Again Lord Langston’s huskily spoken words drifted through Sarah’s mind. You are…magnificent. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Besides that.”

“Flowers,” Julianne said. “He should bring flowers.”

“And plan romantic outings,” added Emily.

“Take the time to find out our favorite things then give them to us,” said Carolyn. “They don’t have to be expensive or elaborate. Just…thoughtful.” Her gaze took on a faraway expression. “My favorite gift from Edward was a single pansy. He’d pressed the flower which is my favorite into his own book of Shakespeare’s poems, between the pages of my favorite sonnet. The flower came from the patch of garden where we’d shared our first kiss.” A small smile touched her lips. “It cost nothing, yet to me that gift was priceless.”

Sarah made a notation on her list, then looked up and asked, “Anything else?”

“I think our man now is quite perfect,” Julianne said. “All we need to do is assemble him.”

“Let’s meet here tomorrow afternoon after your shopping excursion,” Sarah suggested.

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Carolyn.

“I’d prefer to stay here and explore the garden, do some sketching, if you don’t mind. The grounds are spectacular.” Her lips twitched. “Perhaps you lovely ladies can entice some of the gentlemen to accompany you to the shops.”

Emily looked toward the ceiling. “Highly unlikely. They’d no doubt prefer to run a few foxes to ground. I sat next to Lord Thurston at dinner, and the man, while exceedingly handsome, is a bore. He was unable to discuss anything other than horses.”

“But he isn’t unpleasant,” Julianne said. “Indeed, all the gentleman are agreeable. And Mr. Jennsen seemed quite taken with our Sarah.”

“I noticed that as well,” Carolyn said. “The man couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

It was Sarah’s turn to look toward the ceiling. “He was merely being polite. And grateful not to have to discuss the finer points of fox hunting with Lords Thurston and Berwick as he’d done at dinner the night before.”

“Lords Langston and Surbrooke are both amiable,” Emily admitted. “Of course that may change if Mama and Julianne’s aunt Agatha don’t cease their nonsubtle matchmaking efforts.”

“Which are directed toward Lords Berwick, Thurston, and Hartley as well,” Julianne added. A frown puckered her smooth brow. “Do you suppose one of the gentlemen present could be a Perfect Man?”

Emily shook her head. “No. Such a man doesn’t exist, which is the entire reason we’ve had to make him up.” She blew out a dramatic sigh. “But wouldn’t it be wonderful if he did?”

After all agreeing it would indeed be wonderful, albeit unrealistic, Sarah gathered up the articles of clothing and hid them in her portmanteau, which she secreted in the bottom of her wardrobe. The ladies bid each other goodnight, promising to meet the following afternoon to bring Franklin N. Stein to “life.”

Sarah closed the door after their departure, but seconds later there came a quiet knock. She opened the door and found Carolyn standing in the corridor. After her sister entered the room, she said, “I know you must be tired Sarah, but…” She reached out and clasped Sarah’s hand. “I wanted to tell you how happy I am that you’re here with me.”

Relief filled Sarah that nothing amiss had prompted Carolyn’s return to her bedchamber. “There’s no where else I’d rather be.”

“I know, and I’m grateful. This time with you, Julianne, and Emily, and our adventures with the Literary Society, are exactly what I need.” A small smile touched Carolyn’s lips. “Of course, I’m sure you suspected as much.”

“I can’t deny I’d hoped you’d enjoy yourself.”

“As I’d hoped the same for you, Sarah.” Carolyn’s eyes searched her face. “And I can see that this trip has been good for you. I’d hoped that being away from your usual routine, being away from Mother, would enable you to spread your wings a bit.” Her smile flashed. “And I knew you would enjoy the marquess’s renowned gardens.”

Sarah blinked. “Do you mean to tell me that all this time I thought we’d come here for your benefit, you’d planned to come here for mine?”

Carolyn grinned. “There’s a saying about great minds thinking alike.”

Surprised and touched, Sarah said, “True. But you’ve no need to be concerned for me, Carolyn. I’m perfectly content.”

“Yes, I can see that. There’s a…glow about you, and I’m delighted about it.”

Heat rushed into Sarah’s cheeks. Before she could say anything, Carolyn gave her a peck on the cheek then said, “Good night, poppet. Sleep well.” And then she was gone, closing the door quietly behind her.

Sarah heaved out a long, slow breath. Clearly her inward glow did show, at least to Carolyn, who knew her better than anyone. Thank goodness her sister was ignorant of the source. Which called to mind Julianne’s question: Do you think one of the gentlemen present could be a Perfect Man?

She made an impatient sound, annoyed with herself for being so fanciful and impractical. No, the Perfect Man did not exist. He was merely a figment of their imagination. Although…Lord Langston had certainly been perfect as far as kissing was concerned. And he’d said several of the things on their Perfect Man list. And based on their previous list of traits the Perfect Man should have, in addition to being a good kisser, Lord Langston was handsome, witty, and intelligent. And she could attest firsthand that he was stunningly passionate and made her insides flutter. She wasn’t yet sure if he was kind, patient, generous, honorable, and honest. Certainly those last two traits were suspect, given the secrets he obviously had. Certainly he knew far less about horticulture than he’d led people to believe. And besides, he didn’t wear glasses so how perfect could he be?

Still, even if he were the Perfect Man, of what use would that be to her? He would never be her Perfect Man for she’d never be the sort of woman such a man would want. Indeed, it was a very good thing he wasn’t the Perfect Man or else she might fall madly in love with him. And that would be a disaster of gargantuan proportions that would only bring her heartbreak. But, if after finding out more about him it turned out he was close to perfect, he would be a good match for Julianne or Emily. In which case she needed to stop thinking about him. Immediately. She needed to forget his kiss. The feel of him touching her. The texture of his skin beneath her fingers. The taste of him.

Unfortunately, she suspected that would prove easier said than done.

“Excellent shot, Berwick,” Matthew said as his guest’s arrow landed in the nine point golden ring on the archery target set up across the lawn.

Lord Berwick lowered his bow. “Thank you. I believe that puts me in the lead.”

“True, but Jennsen still has one arrow left to shoot,” Matthew reminded him. After observing the quiet, steady determination Jennsen had displayed for the past two hours on the archery field, Matthew didn’t question why the man was such a financial success. Although far less experienced in the sport than any of the other archers, one by one Jennsen had unraveled his opponents, never appearing as if he so much as broke a sweat. Even on those occasions when his shot proved less than brilliant, his quietly confident demeanor often shook the other shooters, forcing them to make costly errors. Over the course of play, the atmosphere had deteriorated from amiable rivalry to chilly tension, especially during the last two rounds. Hartley and Thurston had given in to frustration several times, Thurston going so far as to break an arrow across his knee.

All the rounds had proven very competitive with close scores. Daniel won the first round, and Matthew the second. Hartley and Thurston tied in the third, the victory going to Hartley with the tie-breaking shot. Jennsen had taken the fourth round and Berwick the fifth. They’d all agreed this was the last round, and it now came down to the final arrow.

“Jennsen needs a ten point shot to win,” Thurston said, eyeing the American. A cold gleam entered his eyes. “Anyone care to make it interesting?”

Logan Jennsen flicked a cool glance Thurston’s way, then settled his gaze on Berwick. “I’ve a fiver that says I make my shot.”

One of Berwick’s blond brows cocked upward and a coolly amused smile touched his lips. “I’ve a tenner that says you won’t.”

“I’m in,” Hartley said, looking at the American with the same lack of friendliness Thurston had. “My money’s on Berwick to win.”

“Mine as well,” Thurston agreed. He turned toward Daniel. “What about you, Surbrooke?”

Daniel smiled. “I’ll go with Jennsen to win.”

Matthew noticed the annoyance that flickered in Berwick’s eyes. “You’ll miss your blunt when it’s gone,” Berwick said, a hint of chill in his tone.

Daniel shrugged. “It’s mine to miss.”

“And you, Langston?” Berwick asked, fixing his blue gaze on Matthew. “What’s your bet?”

Matthew raised his hands in mock surrender, hoping to diffuse the frosty tension permeating the warm air. “As host, it would be impolite for me to show any partiality. I’ll therefore remain neutral and wish you both the best of luck.”

Still, Matthew made a mental bet, placing his money on Jennsen. Everything in the man’s demeanor made it clear he was accustomed to getting what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was to best Berwick and cut Hartley and Thurston down a notch or two.

Matthew had heard rumors that Jennsen’s decision to abruptly leave his native America was prompted by more than a simple wish to expand his business, that his past was less than sparkling clean. He had ignored the gossip as coming from Jennsen’s competitors, but now, seeing the coldeyed determination and unwavering control with which the man conducted himself on the archery field led him to wonder if those rumors might in fact be true.

With the same unruffled calm he’d displayed through all the matches, Jennsen lifted his bow and took aim. Seconds later the arrow tip found its home in the ten point gold ring. He turned toward Berwick, and Matthew noted that no triumph gleamed in Jennsen’s dark eyes. Rather, he regarded Berwick with a cold, indecipherable expression that Berwick returned with his own icy glare before finally giving a tight jerk of his head to acknowledge his loss.

“I’ll settle my debt when we return to the house,” Berwick said in a curt voice. Thurston and Hartley mumbled their concurrence, although their displeasure was obvious. Jennsen merely inclined his head in response.

“Well, that was fun,” Daniel said in a patently overbright tone. “I for one could use a brandy. Anyone else?”

“A brandy,” Thurston agreed, sounding as if he were speaking through clenched teeth. He turned toward Matthew as the group walked across the lawn toward the targets to retrieve their arrows.

“And a game of whist with your lovely female guests, Langston.”

“Excellent suggestion,” Hartley said. “Lovely women, all three. Too bad you didn’t invite more, Langston.”