Page 75 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
Sarah was seated to Lord Ashton’s left, the door to the manor behind her. Both gave the man an excuse to look at her often, as if he were looking to the door for their other guests, and put her ill at ease. Someone could be coming up behind her and she would not know it.
They were all served a glass of his family’s wine. When the bottle came to John, he put up a hand. “Actually, I’ll take a glass of whiskey instead.”
Lord Ashton raised his own glass of whiskey with a glittering smile. “Ah, I commend you, Sir!”
John flushed at the praise, grinning himself, and Sarah cringed internally at his clear and feeble attempt to win the Earl’s favor.
Their host took a sip of his whiskey and set it down, addressing John, “Your guest should be here any moment. I had no trouble setting it up at all. I hope you will be successful,” he said with a wink.
Sarah looked between the two of them. Successful in what?
Before she could ask, the butler’s voice came loudly behind them, making her jump in her seat.
“The Marchioness of Hampshire and Lady Victoria Bell,” he intoned in that same overly formal call.
John and Lord Ashton rose to greet their guests. Sarah, aware that it would look odd for her to crane her neck around to see, was forced to wait, looking across the table at her mother’s sparkling eyes.
At last, two more ladies appeared at the table, a mother and daughter, both raven-haired beauties. The younger, Lady Victoria, had rubies shining from her earlobes and her dark hair. Her jewelry, along with mother’s richly cut gown, spoke clearly of their wealth. Sarah saw her mother’s gaze, and it reminded her of that of a predator closing in on its prey.
“Miss Marlow, Lady Marlow, may I present my cousin, Lady Victoria Bell, along with her mother, the Marchioness of Hampshire.”
John’s face was startlingly pink and he was unable to tear his eyes from Lady Victoria, and suddenly it all fell into place in her mind.
This is why they are so bent on marrying me to Lord Ashton. It allows for John to court the wealthy daughter of a Marchioness.
Her mother gave her a sharp pinch beneath the table and she knew she had been lost in her dawning comprehension, rather than in the conversation. She forced herself to focus.
The newly arrived ladies were served wine, and John’s whiskey glass was refilled. Sarah had only had two sips of her own, in deference to her empty stomach.
“Ah, you live that far out in the country, how charming,” trilled the elder Lady Bell. “We never get out of London, it’s such a shame. In fact, we often call visiting Lord Ashton, ‘our trips to the countryside’!” She laughed.
“My Lady,” John addressed the younger. “I would be very happy to show you around our part of the country some time. You are welcome to visit, anytime at all.”
“Oh, do please call me Lady Victoria,” she said. “After all, we’re friends by now, aren’t we?”
John gave a little laugh, but his bright eyes showed how thrilled he was by the title.
She addressed the table. “At our family’s fox hunt, Lord Marlow here saved me from a terrible blunder,” she said, her voice warm and confiding. “I was all prepared for dinner and to greet our many guests when some brute nearly knocked me down! It tore a frightful hole in my gown, but John appeared at my side at once, handing me his own coat to cover the hole and blocking me from being seen by the rest so I could scurry upstairs and get changed!” She put a hand across the table, laying it on John’s arm. “Such a courteous gentleman you raised, Lady Marlow.”
“That story does not surprise me at all,” Lady Marlow said. “My boy has always displayed the upmost gentility. Why, even as a child he was praised for his politeness!”
Sarah tried not to laugh. John had been a frightful child, always up to something, always terrorizing their nannies and governesses, at least five of whom had quit out of a refusal to deal with him. Her hidden smile faded when she felt Lord Ashton’s eyes on her.
The drinks were flowing quickly, and the starter course had not yet been served. She could hear John growing drunker as he sampled more and more of the Earl’s whiskey, rather than the more mellow wine that he drank more commonly at home.
“And Miss Marlow, what do you like to do out in the country?” Lady Victoria addressed her from across the table, the expression on her face pitying, as if Sarah were the poor relation invited to dinner solely out of kindness.
Before she could answer for herself, John slurred a response, “Why she’s just wild for our horses.Enamoredby them! She’s out in the stables every single day! Just the other day, in fact—”
“John!” Lady Marlow attempted a light reproof, but Sarah could hear the panic in her voice at the idea that John was about to tell the whole table her daughter had ridden astride like a man down the road. “Lady Victoria was only asking out of politeness, no need to bore the poor thing.” She forced a little laugh.
Lady Victoria wrinkled her nose. “Horses? They smell something terrible. I would rather never be anywhere near the brutes if I could help it. I dream of the day we are not tethered to beasts for transportation.”
Sarah struggled to keep a pleasant expression on her face at this, while John agreed delightedly. “That’s precisely how I feel!” he said. “Precisely!”
Finally, the soup was served. Sarah pushed it around in her bowl, taking a few small sips. She was hungry now, but was too frightened to eat, as her stays were so tightly laced. Every bite was sure to only make her more uncomfortable. So instead of eating, as the soup was cleared and the main course brought out—a thickly sauced roast—she smiled amiably at the gathered group and moved her utensils without really eating.
John and Victoria appeared to be growing closer. She watched them making eyes at each other across the table as darkness fell. The lady in question was startlingly beautiful, and wealthy, to boot. Further, she was exactly the sort of lady that Sarah was not. Demure, charming, witty but appropriately so, she was the picture of the perfect lady. And Lady Marlow and John could not get enough of her.
