A Reckless Promise (14 page)

She woke several hours later at a slight sound, as she'd never really allowed herself to go into a deep sleep, still propped in the same chair, her neck protesting when she attempted to lift her head from her shoulder, and then panicked as she didn't see Clarice's head and shoulders above the water.

“Clarice!” she called out, turning in a circle in an attempt to locate her. There was the dressing gown and night rail, where they'd been put, and the turned-down bed was empty. “Please don't tell me she's run off to protect her Jerry. And where would she go?”

Sadie raced down the hallway to her own chamber, not bothering to rouse her maid as she'd dressed herself for many years and certainly could manage the exercise one more time. She did stop to slap cold water left in the basin from the previous night against her cheeks, and clean her teeth because a person did have to maintain some standards, even in an emergency, twisted her hair into a figure-eight bun that in truth ended looking more like a figure-six, grabbed her new cherry-red cloak, slipped her bare feet into half boots and headed for the stairs.

A liveried footman snored on a bench in the grand entrance of the mansion, but somehow managed to jump to attention at the sound of her footsteps on the stairs.

“Did you see Miss Goodfellow pass by here?” she asked the boy, who shook his head even as he yawned widely, showing his molars to the world. “Are you quite certain?”

“No, miss,” he confessed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he got to his feet and bowed. Sadie understood; sleeping while sitting up wasn't comfortable. “I think I might hadda nodded off there for a space. Don't tell Mr. Hobson.”

“I won't. I need you to open this door.”

“I can't do that, miss. Only Mr. Hobson has the key, and he locks us all up nice and tight every night.”

“But—but that's ridiculous. What if there was a fire? How would anyone get out?” And why was her practical brain thinking so practically now, when she should concentrate all of it on Clarice and her whereabouts?

The footman puzzled on this for a moment, and then brightened. “Oh,
that
key. I have the fire key right here in my pocket. But I can't use it or Mr. Hobson will have my ears. No, miss, not lessin' there's a fire.”

“I'll light a fire right under you, young man,” Sadie threatened. “Open the door. I need to see into the square.”

“You could just peek out one of the windows, you know. What a fuss. I could hear you before I could see you.”

“Clarice!”

The girl was walking toward her, dressed in her cloak and a silly straw bonnet, a half-eaten chicken leg in her hand. Belatedly, Sadie noticed a large round bandbox sitting on the floor behind her, beside the staircase.

“I'm sorry, Sadie. I was hoping I could sneak back upstairs before you noticed I was gone.”

“Well, young lady, I did notice, and you're not gone. Where on earth did you think you were going to go? No, don't answer me, not yet. Get yourself back up those stairs right this minute.”

Honestly, it was like dealing with Marley. When the child had been three.

Clarice dropped a rather cheeky curtsy, not helped by the chicken leg she flourished rather like a wand. “If you could bring the bandbox, Sadie?”

Relief had made Sadie's knees go positively weak. “First I have to promise myself I won't beat you around the head and shoulders with it. Do you know how frightened I was when I woke to find you gone?”

“I'm sorry. Does it matter that I was desperate?”

“Only a little, and definitely not yet,” Sadie told her, shooing her on ahead of her on the stairs.

“Well, I was. First I thought I could talk the coachman into driving me to Thea so I could hide there, but he wouldn't. And I shouldn't bother her, anyway, since she and Gabe are finishing up with the grand entrance hall and all. I hope they keep the fountain. And the banana trees.”

“Clarice!”

“I'm sorry. Then I thought I could go throw myself on Martha Henderson's tender mercies, but I don't know where she is and I don't think Hendersons have any tender mercies. So, Clarice, I thought, Clarice, it's about time you stopped thinking, because you're going dotty with fear and you really aren't all that good at it right now, and trust someone else to do it for you. That,” she said as they reached the second landing, “was when I realized that I didn't really eat my dinner, so I went to the kitchens and—”

“—and forgot that there are people who care about you,” Sadie ended as they walked down the hallway toward Clarice's chamber. “My heart is still beating half out of my chest, if you must know.”

Clarice turned to her, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Sadie, I'm so,
so
sorry.”

“I know. It's all right, Clarice. I...I know what it's like to feel desperate.”

Honestly, if it weren't for the bonnet covering them, it was entirely possible Clarice's ears might have begun wagging. “You do? Oh, you poor thing. Do you want to tell me about it? When you felt desperate, I mean.”

“Clarice, go to bed. Please. And take this with you—good Lord, it's moving.”

“Of course it is. You didn't think I'd leave without Goody, did you?”

Sadie opened the lid to have the tongue-lolling spaniel stick his head up out of the box. He put his front paws on her chest and licked at her face before leaping to the floor.

“Here, Goody-Goody,” Clarice called softly, waving the chicken leg. “Let's not bother your auntie Sadie any more tonight.”

Sadie summoned a weak smile before heading off to her own bedchamber. She had a lot to think about, didn't she? What it was like to be desperate. The unthought-out things people tended to do when they were desperate.

The way secrets had a nasty way of poking up their heads just when you began to relax, lower your guard and even began to daydream about happy endings.

“Please, God, I'm not dotty, but I've been a fool. There's no more thinking about running from what you've done, Sadie Grace,” she told herself as she stripped off her clothes and pulled the night rail over her head. “You won't take Marley away from Darby's protection and her new life. You've always told yourself you could still leave, releasing him from his practical and outrageous proposal. But you forgot something... Marley isn't the only person in your life, not anymore. You can't upset her or any of these good people who accepted you without a blink, who care for you, who'd worry about you...and most probably follow after you, anyway, run you to ground and demand to know what sort of idiot you were to have run off in the first place.”

She crawled into bed and looked up at the canopy above her. “It's just as Clarice said. The time has come to trust someone else to know what's best...”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

D
ARBY
HAD
TO
silently applaud Sadie. She'd waited until he'd handed her up onto the seat of the curricle and walked around to take up the reins from his tiger before turning on him, most probably to demand he finally share his idea with her.

So he spoke first. “You look tired, Sadie Grace. Beautiful as always, but tired. Has Clarice proved the same handful to you as her beloved has to me?”

“I didn't sleep well, no.”

“That was succinct. Well, at least we can relax now. They're both safely tucked up with Vivien and Minerva for the afternoon.”

Sadie looked at him for a long moment. “Do you listen to what you say when you speak?”

Darby threw back his head and laughed. “You're right, what was I thinking? With both Thea and Dany gone, you must feel as if you're the only adult in residence. My plan had better work, hadn't it?”

Sadie pulled her cloak more firmly around her. “
Your
plan. And that's another thing, my-lord-knows-everything. I may be tired, and I'm painfully aware I'm being cranky, but I still have no idea what this grand plan of yours entails. What is my part? Why am I here?”

Poor sweetheart. Clearly she didn't like being kept in the dark, as it were. A woman with secrets who didn't like secrets. Did she realize how contradictory that was? “It isn't enough that I desired your company?”

“No. That is... Thank you. But no. You're either obtuse, my lord Nailbourne, or consider yourself clever. I'm not pleased with either, by the way.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry.”

Again, he laughed. “No, you're not, and I'm surprised you haven't yet to attempt to choke everything out of me. Very well. You're here, Sadie Grace, because a luncheon with just the ladies Henderson could be considered too intimate, and may even serve to make said ladies nervous. As my hostess, you can be sweet and pleasant and natter on about nothing with the ladies, putting them at their ease.”

“That would be reasonable, if I were Clarice or the duchess. If you've yet to notice, I don't know how to natter about nothing. Besides, the first thing they'll ask me will be the whereabouts of my
maid
.”

“No, they won't. That's why we're arriving separately, so that I've time to tell you what I've done. That, and the fact that I didn't want to spend any more time with Martha and Belinda than I already have. The matter of Clarice is already settled, if Belinda is satisfied with my offer. In fact, most everything is settled. You really must learn to trust me, Sadie Grace.”

“Yes... I know. I've waited too long as it is.”

It was his turn to look at her for some moments. “Does that mean...?”

“It does, and you'd please me by not looking quite so smug as to have long ago realized that I haven't been...haven't been totally honest with you. I decided last night—early this morning actually—that today is the day I give you the answers you seem to believe you need.”

He could hear a slight tremor in her voice. What had brought her to this decision? His charm? No, he doubted that. Somehow, some way, Clarice and Rigby, their situation, had turned the trick in his favor. That thought made what he was soon to do even sweeter.

“I'm honored, Sadie,” he said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“I wouldn't thank me yet, were I you. But first we—you—settle this mess for poor Clarice before she feels the need to make some grand confession to Rigby concerning her past. She told me he knows...some of it, but that the whole of it would send him turning from her in disgust.”

“I believe he knows more than he lets on, and he doesn't care. He loves the Clarice who walked into his life. To him, nothing else matters. As it should be for those in love, don't you agree?”

“It would be comforting to think so, but that can't always be true. We are, after all, human, and we might say what we truly believe at the time and with the best of intentions, only to, upon reflection, find we were incorrect.”

They were no longer speaking about Clarice and Rigby, even as they both pretended they were.

“I see you've been giving this subject quite a deal of thought.”

She sighed. “Perhaps too much thought. My affection for Clarice hasn't changed, even after the confidences she shared with me last night, because it's not what she's done that matters, is it? It's Clarice herself, and her good heart.”

This was neither the time nor place for such a heavy discussion, but Darby knew her statement couldn't go unanswered. “You also have a good heart, Sadie Grace. No one and nothing could convince me otherwise, not even you. Does that help?”

She turned her head away from him, the brim of her bonnet obscuring her features. “Yes. Yes, it does. Can we speak of something else now?”

“That something else being my plan, my all but accomplished plan. Yes, let's do that, and before you can point out any flaws let me say that Rigby already knows what I'm about, and will doubtless tell Clarice and the others. Once this day is over, we need not ever speak of any of this again. To which I'll add—thank God, for we've more pressing matters to discuss now, don't we?”

She laid a hand on his forearm. “There are still flaws? But you said everything was all but settled.”

“The first is that you'll attempt to talk me out of it, which would only waste time, because everything
is
all but settled. Just let me say I'm proceeding with an open heart and no regrets. Rigby's my friend, and would do as much for me. I'd tell you about the time he saved my life during the war at great risk to his own, but since that didn't happen, I won't. It only matters that I know he would have had the necessity arisen.”

“Now you're being flippant, even as I know you mean every word you're saying. But before you begin, I just remembered that I wanted to tell you that Jackson Henderson is in trade. He manufactures rugs. Carpets. I don't know if that helps, or if it might change your plans, but Clarice told me.”

“I already called on Lord Clathan yesterday afternoon. My understanding is he and his wife received two lovely new patterned carpets for their country estate in exchange for agreeing to invite the Hendersons to a few tame events, and ask friends to do so, as well. He did whisper to me that Belinda's dowry is immense, in case I'd be interested.”

“Oh, my goodness. And what did you say?”

“I thanked him, of course. I suppose next we'll be hearing I've lost half my fortune in the Exchange. You have to marry me now, Sadie Grace, if only to save me from the gossips.”

“Because I'm penniless, which would prove you're not? But I thought you said the wealthy are never wealthy enough. Miss Henderson might be a better match.”

He smiled at her, enjoying their banter, which seemed to have lifted her spirits out of the doldrums. “You'll not cry off that easily, as we both know our marriage to be best for Marley.”

Sadie looked off into the distance, as if her mind had traveled miles away. “Yes. Best for Marley. Everyone agrees. Absolutely.”

He didn't like the way that sounded...or perhaps he liked it more than he should. Because Sadie had sounded almost disappointed.

Yes, he preferred the latter, and would consider her reaction progress.

“Besides, with any luck, and I'm most usually lucky, the ladies Henderson will be on the first ship bound for Virginia, eager to tell everyone how delighted they were to meet the future Lady Rigby, who is a dear and treasured friend of all Hendersons.”

He had her attention again. “You know about
all
the Hendersons?”

“Sissy Winkle and her talented derriere? Yes, I've heard the entire story, as told to Rigby at some point. The parson, the judge, the banker, on and on. I doubt many dare cross the Hendersons, don't you? If they accept Clarice with open arms, and I'm certain Thea's family will do the same, I see no reason for Clarice to believe she can't visit her family without Rigby being subjected to a barrage of sordid winks and whispers. In fact, Martha is honored beyond measure to hostess a welcome ball for Sir Jeremiah and Lady Rigby.”

“They'd do that?” Sadie said, and he could hear the disbelief in her voice. “Good God, Darby, what are you offering them? The cottage?”

“Not quite that much, no, but the offer is considerable. You won't try to talk me out of it?”

“No. I promise. But I need to know.”

For Darby, it had been one of the more difficult decisions of his life, yet the one he'd made most quickly.

“You've already reminded me that I said the wealthy never think they're wealthy enough. Do you remember the rest?”

“Yes, I think so. The frustration, even with all that wealth, in not being able to acquire something someone else has. Darby, what do you have that the Hendersons can never hope to have?”

“You, for one,” he teased, and laughed as she rolled her eyes at him. “You're not flattered?”

“Not when you're avoiding answering me, no.”

Other than his three closest friends, no one had ever dared to speak to him so candidly, had ever seen him so clearly. Sadie didn't know how to play games, clearly had no time for them, and he wouldn't have her any other way.

“Very well. Have you ever heard of Marengo?”

Her brow furrowed as she thought about his question. “Is it a place?”

“It is, actually, but I'm speaking of a different Marengo, the name Bonaparte gave to his favorite war horse, a magnificent gray Arabian nearly as well known as Boney himself. Marengo served the emperor from the Battle of Austerlitz to the retreat from Russia, to his final downfall at Waterloo, where it was finally captured and brought to England. He is and was worth five thousand men, to hear Bonaparte, and was used often in gallops of up to eighty miles in distance, a feat the stallion achieved in five hours.”

“I really don't know much about horses. Is that impressive?”

“Beyond impressive. Both speed and stamina, a rare combination, and a splendidly beautiful animal into the bargain. Word is, Marengo was wounded eight times while carrying Boney, and never faltered. Heart, Sadie, the stallion has heart. Naturally, his new owner has put him to stud, as any foals would bring him a fortune, although at Marengo's advanced age, I don't see much future in that hope. However, the stallion did manage to woo and win a few mares through the years, and I happen to have come into possession of one of his offspring—I won't bother you with how I managed that, but only that I have. A magnificent black stallion, and he has many years at stud ahead of him.”

“I'm sorry, I still don't understand.”

He explained. “Miss Belinda Henderson is horse mad. More importantly, her parents own one of the foremost horse farms in Virginia—indeed, perhaps in the entire country. One of Marengo's stallions, put to stud there, is a prize beyond price.”

Sadie nodded. “Something even the wealthy cannot buy unless you are willing to sell. You're going to sell her the stallion.”

“No, Sadie Grace, in return for the cooperation I've already mentioned, and if Belinda is satisfied with her inspection, I'm going to
give
her the stallion.”

He waited for her reaction, which wasn't long in coming.

“That's...that's the most generous gesture I've ever heard. I'm so proud of you, Darby. So very proud.”

“And worth everything, to know I'm in your good graces. I suppose I shouldn't ruin the moment by telling you five of my best Arabian mares are already carrying said stallion's foals, who will be romping the meadows here at the cottage in the spring. I'm hoping for at least two grays with a resemblance to Marengo, and with luck, at least two will be stallions I will delight in one day seeing take cups at Royal Ascot, and then being put to stud.”

Sadie's bottom lip trembled as she put her fingers to her mouth in an unsuccessful effort to cover a smile that rapidly turned into a grin, which almost immediately accelerated into a full-throated laugh.

He'd never felt so pleased in his life...a realization that made him wonder if he'd ever been really happy until Sadie Grace Hamilton had crashed uninvited into that same outwardly charmed life.

“You never lose, do you?” she asked at last, wiping at tears of mirth that ran down her cheeks even as he reined the curricle to a halt in front of the cottage. “Your wound could have been a disaster, but you jokingly make that patch a part of your not inconsiderable charms. You took on the promise to John, and instead of seeing a burden, you've embraced the role of guardian and are clearly enjoying your new responsibility. You unselfishly give away a prime stallion to help your friends, but will have dozens to take its place. No, you never lose. You simply find other ways to win.”

Darby had fairly well stopped listening after she'd said “your not inconsiderable charms,”
content to merely sit beside her, look into her beautiful eyes and hope he could count himself a winner just one more time.

Not because I want to win...but because it suddenly occurs to me that I've at last found what I didn't know I've been searching for my entire life...