Chapter Ten
Contents - Prev | Next
Even God lends a hand to honest boldness.
— Mernander, c.342-2923 B.C.
"Sarah, what is going on?" Lady Dunbridge asked.
"Blister it!" Sarah jabbed the embroidery needle into her tender flesh and dropped the sampler she was pretending to embroider. She sucked the drop of blood from her puncture wound and looked up as her aunt spoke. "Nothing, Aunt Etta."
"Language, dear," Lady Dunbridge admonished.
"Sorry." Sarah mumbled an apology.
"Your mumbled apology is acceptable." Henrietta Dunbridge frowned at her niece. "Your answer is not." At the sound of Lady Dunbridge's voice, Precious woke up from her nap in her basket on the floor beside Sarah's feet and eyed her mistress warily.
"Pardon?"
"I may be getting old, but I'm far from my dotage and far from blind." Aunt Etta took immediate exception to Sarah's attempt to evade her question. "I've known you all your life and you've never had much patience for needlework. Today appears to be no exception." Lady Dunbridge pursed her lips. "You've barely spared a moment for Precious and none for Budgie, whose cage you forgot to uncover this morning." She walked over to the window and removed the cloth from the budgie's cage. "You're making a mess of your sampler and you've been as fidgety as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Do you want to tell me what this is all about or shall I open the note from Lord Shepherdston and read it for myself?" She waved a folded piece of paper at Sarah.
"Jays sent a note?" Sarah reached for the piece of paper.
"Indeed, he did," Aunt Henrietta confirmed, holding it just out of Sarah's reach. "It's addressed to Lady Dunbridge and Miss Eckersley and it was delivered with our chocolate and toast."
Sarah frowned. "I don't recall seeing it."
"That's because it was on the tray and I got to it first." Lady Dunbridge smiled. "I found it rather queer that I should receive a note from a young man I haven't seen in ages and one who could not have known that I was in town."
"What does it say?" Sarah asked.
"I haven't read it yet," Lady Dunbridge replied. "And I don't intend to read it until I get an explanation from you."
Sarah took a deep breath. "I don't know where to begin," she hedged.
"Start where you slipped out of the hotel last night," Lady Dunbridge suggested dryly.
Sarah was wide-eyed with surprise.
"I woke up and your side of the bed was empty," Lady Dunbridge offered. "At first, I thought you'd made a trip to the privy, but when you failed to return within a reasonable amount of time, I supposed you slipped out to meet a gentleman."
Sarah gasped. "Aunt Etta!"
Her aunt shrugged. "Perhaps I hoped you'd slipped out to meet a gentleman when I looked out the window and saw Mr. Birdwell returning from somewhere with our coach."
"You're incorrigible," Sarah accused.
"You can't blame an old lady for wanting to see her only niece happily wedded and bedded." Lady Dunbridge winked.
"There is nothing old about you, Aunt Etta," Sarah told her. "You'll always be young."
"Thank you, darling, but don't change the subject. Tell me what happened after I fell asleep and you sneaked out of the hotel."
"I paid a call on Lord Shepherdston."
"Thank goodness!" Lady Dunbridge breathed a sigh of relief. "I hoped you'd slipped out to meet a gentleman, but I was afraid you had taken it into your head to pay a call on my nephew by marriage to try to change his mind about tossing us out of the rectory."
"I would never willingly pay a call on Lord Dunbridge," Sarah assured her aunt. "And never at night."