Page 46 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
In the reflection, Sarah felt that she was looking at a stranger. Yes, the combined look was impressive, though it felt rather arrogant to say so, but it did not look like her. She looked like a very fine lady, someone who would sneer genteelly at little Sarah Marlow.
Lady Marlow squeezed her shoulders. “Be in the drawing room in a quarter of an hour’s time. I have everything prepared. All you have to do now is act like a lady.”
Sarah nodded and sat at the edge of her seat, left alone once more. She had been tightly fitted into her stays, constricting her chest more than usual, in order to make her breasts nearly spill from the top of her gown, which made sitting very uncomfortable. Standing was uncomfortable as well, come to think of it.
She took shallow breaths, attempting to slow her heart and ease her nerves, which were raging at the upcoming meeting with this Lord Ashton. What kind of gentleman was he, that he was returning from years abroad and making time to meet a lady he had never even seen?
There was another issue niggling at her brain about this meeting. Each time her mother spoke of this union, she mentioned how good it would be for John. What exactly did John stand to gain from her marrying a stranger? The answer was obvious—the social boost that would come from having a Countess sister. But it was a relatively small boost, all told, and it was unlikely he would allow his new wife to spread their wealth to her family.
That is what I shall do. I will spend tonight being charming, yes, though I will try to also be as unappealing as possible. But mainly, I will learn all that I can. I may not have many advantages when it comes to my family, but knowledge is a place to start.
This decided, her breathing finally eased. Having a purpose for the evening made it seem less frightening. She would learn all she could, and she would use what she learned to secure the match in her heart.
It was time to go downstairs. She went to the drawing room, walking carefully in the confines of the gown, uncomfortable with how much of her breasts were showing over the top of the neckline.
John and her mother were already in the drawing room, which looked as though it had been scrubbed within an inch of its life, and so had the two of them. They both were dressed much too finely for a simple dinner at home, but Sarah knew better than to say so.
“You both look wonderful,” she said instead, taking her seat in the room.
“Remember, darling,” her mother said, turning a hard eye on her. “Best behavior.”
“Yes, Mother.”
They sat in silence, all three seeming to be lost in their own thoughts about the evening ahead of them as they awaited their guest. At last, his arrival was announced.
“Broderick, Earl of Ashton,” their butler Carlisle said with a deep bow, leading the gentleman into the drawing room.
As introductions were made, Sarah seized the chance to size up her would-be husband. Lord Ashton was a very tall, very thin man, with long thin fingers that made the hair on her neck rise. His manners were impeccable—he had her mother fluttering and brother posturing at once—but there was something about him… something she could not quite put her finger on.
The two were face-to-face, and she watched as his brown eyes, the murky color of pale mud, fastened upon her exposed bodice.
He bowed, taking her hand in his, and she had to fight to keep from grimacing at the touch of his sweating, long-fingered hand.
“My dear Miss Marlow,” he said in a gravelly voice. “What an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance at last.”
Sarah shot a look at her mother at this. At last? But her mother nodded sharply back to the gentleman before her, a clear communication to remain focused on their guest.
She dipped a curtsy, lowering her head. “My Lord.” As she rose once more, she noticed that his eyes were once more on her chest.
I don’t know that he has bothered to look into my eyes at all.
“Lord Marlow, dinner is ready to be served,” Carlisle intoned.
“Allow me to escort you, Miss Marlow,” Lord Ashton said with another bow, putting his arm out to her.
Though it made her skin crawl, she put her hand on his forearm, and allowed herself to be led to dinner, feeling very much like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lady Marlow took her seat at the head of the table, as the hostess. Lord Ashton was seated at her right hand and Sarah on her left, so that the two were facing each other across the table. John took his seat at the foot.
“Lord Ashton, we thank you sincerely for accepting our dinner invitation,” Lady Marlow said, batting thick eyelashes at the man as wine was poured for all.
“Not at all. In fact, it is wonderful to be at an English table once more.” Lord Ashton said, drinking his wine before they all had been served.
The action set a small pucker between Lady Marlow’s brows, but Sarah noticed she made a quick effort to smooth her face when he turned to her.
“I have been abroad too long. I have very much missed a good English meal.”
