Page 10 of An Honorable Arrangement
"Murderer!" The word rose twisted and angry from the slobbering mouth of Bertram Sommers. He stood and wavered side-to-side then lifted one fat finger that he pointed at Sarah. "You killed her. She was an angel, and you killed her."
When Sommers stepped toward Sarah, Captain Phillips grabbed his shoulder.
Monty stepped in front of Sarah.
"I don't know what you mean, Father. I have never been here before." The first tear bubbled over Sarah's lashes.
"Oh, you were here, and when I couldn't stand the sight of you no more, I sent you away. You killed her, and she was the only good thing I ever had." He stumbled to one knee, reaching a clawed hand toward Sarah. His face turned bright red as if he might explode. "Murderer!"
Sarah ran from the room.
Phillips kept a grip on Sommers. "You had better take her away. The Wayfarer is a fine inn in town. Perhaps you might rest there for the night. I'll see that he doesn't follow."
Monty nodded. "Thank you for your assistance, Captain."
How someone so abhorrent had taken part in creating Sarah was a complete mystery. Monty ran out of the house determined to find her. Soon enough, he found her in a heap, weeping on the cold stone steps. As he knelt beside her, his heart ached, and his anger rose. He wanted to go back inside and pummel her father. "Come, Sarah, let me take you back to town."
She dropped her head to her arms and sobbed.
Lifting her, Monty carried her to his horse, boosted her to the saddle, and was relieved when she kept her seat sidesaddle. He swung up behind her and eased the animal into a slow walk with her between his arms. "I'm very sorry, Miss Sommers."
She leaned against his chest, her body shaking as she poured out her sorrow. "You called me Sarah a moment ago," she said between gasps.
Happy to hear some sense, he held her tighter with one hand and wished he didn't have to hold the reins with the other. It was much more satisfying than it ought to be to have her in his arms, no matter the reason. "I apologize for my forwardness."
Sniffing, she looked at him. Even with watery eyes and a red nose, Sarah was lovely. He longed to kiss that pert nose. "You don't sound sorry."
Having no idea where his longing to kiss her had come from, he still couldn't wipe the notion from his mind. "Perhaps, I am only saying what is appropriate despite the fact we are riding alone together in a way that is decidedly inappropriate."
Cheeks red from the cold, she blushed deeper. "I suppose nothing I've done in the last two days is very ladylike." She cocked her head. "If I were to call you by your Christian name, would I call you Montgomery, or do people call you something else?"
It was wrong to like the sound of his name on her lips. Very, very wrong. Suddenly, her narrow waist in his arms and her sweet face close to his was very intimate. Her bottom pressed deliciously against him, and he had no desire to find the Wayfarer. "My male friends call me Witmore; my family calls me Monty. You may pick any name you prefer, Sarah."
Her gaze flitted from his eyes to his lips.
Was she thinking about kissing? It was too much to contemplate and not do.
"I like Montgomery," she whispered. "You seem like a Montgomery to me." She rested her head on his chest at the shoulder and sighed against him.
Lord, she felt like heaven. As a gentleman, he would do what was right and bring her to the inn, deposit her in a room and wait for Mrs. Pratt to arrive. As a man, it might be the hardest thing he'd ever do.
"Why did my father say those things?"
Indulgent in his desire to give her comfort, he pressed his lips to her hair. He could spend a lifetime just as they were, with her soft and warm in his arms. He shook the notion away and sat up straighter in the saddle. He must have lost his senses. "I don't know. Perhaps we can arrange to speak to Mrs. Cochran in private and find out if she knows something more about the man."
"She seemed terrified of him." Pain made its way into her tone.
It would do no good to coddle her on this subject. "I agree. I think life in your father's house is not very good."
"I don't remember ever being there before or in Bristol. I suppose I was born there, but I don’t recall." She closed her eyes and relaxed against him.
The entire situation was both mesmerizing and unbearable. Why did she have to feel so right in his arms?
ChapterFour
Strong shoulders felt good under her cheek as they rode back to Bristol at a slow pace. Sarah should’ve been cold, but Montgomery was perfectly warm and comfortable. She should have been ashamed to sit so intimately close to him, but he felt so good.
All the things her father said rolled around in her head. He'd been angry at her, but she couldn’t understand why he should blame her for things that happened when she was an infant. It made no sense. "Do you think he would have done me harm had I gone there alone?"
