Page 40 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
“Sarah?” The doorknob rattled once more, this time more harshly. “Why on earth is your door locked? Open it at once.”
“Yes, Mother!” Sarah stood and quickly gathered the papers together. The sudden movement smudged the last line of her letter, but there was no time to worry about that now.
“What is taking you so long?” The door rattled harder. “Rebecca? Fetch the key!”
“Mother, wait, I’m coming right this instant!” Sarah called, her heart racing as she shoved the pages under a clean stack of unused paper. But in her haste, she knocked over the bottle of ink.
“No,” she cried, taking a cloth and mopping at the ink.
“Sarah!” Her mother’s calls were twice as impatient now.
What could have brought her to my door like this so late? She never comes by my room at this time!
But the reasonableness of her thoughts did not change the fact that her mother was at the door, and now she could also hear Rebecca’s footsteps approaching, surely delivering the key. Quickly, she opened up her copy ofSermons to Young Womenand began to read aloud.
“That respectful modesty, which attends it on the part of the man, is maintained and exalted by nothing so much as an unaffected bashfulness on the woman’s side… What pity, when, it is heedlessly exposed to the wanton gaze of every wandering eye, to the cruel hand of every rude, or of every sly invader! Some men, I confess, may be flattered by forward advances from those of your sex... But is there no reason to apprehend, that when they come to reflect coolly, their esteem will not be lasting… ”
Even as the key clicked in the lock on her door and it swung open, revealing what was sure to be her very angry mother, Sarah could not help a grim smile at the random chance that she would have opened this very long book to this specific page. Had she been alone, she might have remained warm at the thought of Felix’s wanton gaze and so-called cruel hand, but with her mother bearing down on her, she only second-guessed herself.
Have I run him off by not having an ‘unaffected bashfulness’? Because I have never been the type of lady to pretend to be someone I am not.
Her thoughts were interrupted by her mother appearing at her side, her hands on her hips.
“What are you doing?”
Sarah looked up at her, affecting a look of surprise. “I’m rereading the James Fordyce book you gave me.”
“That prevented you from coming to the door to let me in? And why was your door locked?”
“I craved solitude to allow myself to reflect quietly on Mr. Fordyce’s valuable advice and teachings,” Sarah said, quite proud of the earnestness in her voice.
Her mother’s eyes scanned the desk, looking for something out of place, and lit on the cloth mopping up the spilled ink.
“What were you writing, then?”
“I had thought to make notes, but became absorbed in the reading. When you came to the door, it startled me, and I spilled the ink,” Sarah answered coolly.
“All right then,” she conceded, but her narrowed eyes stayed on the lookout for something suspicious. “We have to talk. Put the book down.”
Sarah made a show of marking the page and closed the book, setting it on top of the papers to hopefully discourage any further looking into that part of her desk.
“Yes, Mother?”
“I have heard the most distressing tale,” Lady Marlow began, taking a seat on the settee by the window, where she could look at Sarah head on.
“Oh?”
“Yes. It has come to my attention that my sweet daughter may have been lying to me.”
Her voice was calm, but fear shot through Sarah at her words.
“Sarah, has Sir Felix been visiting you while you are calling on Lady Cunningham?” The silky smoothness of her tone did nothing to mask the hard anger beneath it.
She swallowed.
What can I say now that will not make this worse? How much exactly does she know? Could I get away with admitting to only today?
The thought was incredibly tempting, but she pushed it away.
