He felt his chest swell with pride at the sight of all of the guests, highborn and hard to please, looking as if they were genuinely enjoying themselves. The garden had been done up perfectly, and the food was excellent. He found his sister, bouncing a smiling little George, and at her side was Miss Marlow.
It would not be exaggerating to say his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. Among the jewel-bedecked, rich fashions of the other ladies here, she stood out in her simple blue gown and uncomplicated hairstyle. The ladies of thetonswayed with frills and adornments top to bottom.
And there was Miss Marlow, in a gown she could sit easily in the grass in, her curves highlighted by the sunlight by the stables, and nothing more than a ribbon in her hair.
When he had come around the corner, seeking a place to tie up Acorn where she could relax and graze, and he’d seen her there—well, it was a very good thing he was a gentleman. And that nearly all thetonwas just around the corner.
She had looked good enough to eat, leaning back against her hands, face tipped up to the sun, eyes a million miles away. It didn’t hurt that the angle had also tipped her soft curves up, the enticing skin beneath nearly visible in the bright light.
He shook his head. His feelings for the lady were hitting him harder than they ever had before, likely because it had been so many months since he had last laid eyes on her. Coming across her today had been a shock to his system, shaking out those long-felt feelings with a vengeance. Of all the ladies he had met, at various parties, balls, and events, none held a candle to Miss Sarah Marlow.
She was a lady unto her own, fiercely unique and constantly breaking out of the mold of polite society. Why, what other lady would have been relaxing in the grass when there was a garden party occurring? He smiled a little at the thought. It was the precise reason that he cared so deeply for her. She was herself, and unashamed.
Felix had kept himself distanced from her, from everyone really, but from her as well, these past months because he was not strong enough to be around her without doing something about his feelings. Right before Juliet’s wedding, he had come perilously close to making his feelings clear to Sarah. But he could not.
Best case, I’d succeed in making myself look like a fool whom she would never talk to again. Worst case, she would feel obliged to accept my attention because of Juliet, and I’d remove her chances of finding a more suitable match.
The fact that he always reminded himself of, was that Miss Marlow was Juliet’s best friend, and saw him only as the big brother. She likely thought of him as a brother, and certainly did not think of him with the longing with which he thought of her.
More than that, he couldn’t even afford a wife at the moment. He had just had the responsibility of his little sister removed from his household—the idea of adding someone else was the epitome of foolishness. And besides, she deserved better than his rundown little cottage, plots of land, and low title. Sarah Marlow deserved to be the wife of an earl, a duke, a king.
He allowed his eyes to trace her deliciously curved figure, so beautifully backlit by the afternoon sun, one last time.
And then I’ll focus on whatever Cunningham has been saying to me.
Unfortunately, Cunningham had already noticed where Felix’s eyes had been lingering.
“Why don’t you go over and talk to her?” he suggested quietly, nodding his head Miss Marlow’s way. Thankfully, Charles had gone to grab another round of drinks.
“Talk to who?” Felix played dumb.
Cunningham didn’t answer, only fixed him with a look.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Charles had returned with three glasses, and Felix took his gratefully, deciding to change the subject. “George is looking quite strapping today. The size of him! You and Juliet are bringing up quite the little gentleman.”
At once, Cunningham’s face lightened. He loved to boast of his son. “Your sister has made a wonderful mother. George is strong and healthy as a horse.” He looked to her now, where she and Miss Marlow were cooing at George. “Miss Marlow has been quite the help as well, always coming around to see him.”
It had been months since Felix and Miss Marlow had last seen each other, and the truth was, seeing her today had solidified a thought that had been in his mind for a very long time.
I have feelings for her.
He was no longer able to deny it. Her humor, her dreaminess, the fact that while one of the biggest parties of the week was going on, all she wanted to do was stretch out on the grass—it was irresistible.
But the truth of the matter was that he could not afford a wife. He could barely afford himself. He’d had to let the coachman go, and had even taken the cook to only half-time. He just didn’t have enough money. Thank God Juliet had married well, for he would certainly be unable to support her.
At some point, Cunningham had left his side and was at the center of the garden, holding a red sack aloft.
“Who’s up for a round of pall-mall?”
Chapter Three
Pall-mall? Sarah bit back a groan. That was not a game she cared for. With friends, it was one thing. With the stuffy members of theton—she’d rather go have another one of her drifts somewhere.
But across the garden, one gentleman had perked up considerably at the prospect of a game.
“Let’s play!” Sir Felix stepped forward, eyes bright. “I’m not afraid to beat you in your own garden, Cunningham.”
