Page 12 of An Honorable Arrangement
She might have weighed nothing as he lifted her back onto the horse. "Let's get you a warm bath and a good night's sleep, Sarah. Things will be better in the morning."
She doubted that very much, but it was nice to hear just the same.
* * *
The Wayfarer was a hotel more than an inn. The rooms probably cost more than she'd ever seen, but it didn't seem to faze Montgomery as he gave orders for her to have a bath in her room and food delivered sometime after.
The tub had been brought up and placed in the middle of her bedroom. A maid came with a towel and soap. "Do you need me to stay and help you, miss?"
"No. I can manage."
Footmen carried in hot water and filled the large copper tub. When they had finished, the maid curtsied and closed the door behind her as she left.
Sarah bolted the door, undressed, and slipped into the delightfully warm water.
She hadn't been brave enough to look at Montgomery's face when she told him about her ruination. Surely, there would’ve been disgust had she examined his features. She'd heard his anger and appreciated his concern, but she was ruined and now he knew. He might tell his aunt and uncle, and they might refuse to keep her as their ward.
Perhaps there was still hope with her father. He might be a perfectly nice man when sober. Even thinking it made her scoff. He'd lunged at her and called her a murderer. It was very confusing. Weren’t all fathers supposed to love their children? It was possible that she was unlovable. She’d always assumed the fact that she was a burden on all the families she'd lived with was the reason none of them had felt quite right. But now she’d seen her real blood, and he had no love for her either.
Tears ran down her face. It did no good to wallow. Mary told her so all the time, but she couldn't stop the flow. Taking up the soap, she washed before the water turned too cold. Sliding into the water deeper, she let her head go under and looked at the watery ceiling. When she could no longer hold her breath, she pushed upward and gasped for air.
"I can make my way in the world without love if need be." More tears followed her assertion.
Someone knocked.
"Who is it?"
"It's Montgomery Witman."
She stood, grabbed the towel, and wrapped it around herself. Had she been so long in the tub that he thought she'd drowned? The idea had flitted briefly through her mind, but she hadn't the courage for such a feat. "I'm just getting out of the bath, my lord."
There was a long silence. "I will wait here for you to make yourself decent. I brought you a tray of food as the dining room was very busy, and it would have been more than an hour before they could bring it to you."
Stepping from the tub, she dried quickly, found her dressing gown, and wrapped herself in the voluminous white cotton. She attempted to better dry her hair and likely looked wild as she unbolted the door. He stood in the hallway holding a covered tray. His expression was clear of anything but concern.
She made way for him to enter. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "This was very kind of you."
Montgomery put the tray on the table near the window. "I was concerned the events of the day might have left you quite forlorn, Sarah. I can see that you have been crying." He observed the tub, drew a long breath, and wouldn’t meet her gaze.
"I should not have told you about my past, my lord. It was a mistake made while under great strain. I hope you will keep the information in confidence, but if you cannot, I understand." She longed to see his face but turned away clutching her robe tighter.
He stepped close and used one finger to tip her chin up. "Who do you think I might tell?"
There was no disgust on his handsome face. He looked into her eyes, leaned in as if he might kiss her, and then pulled away.
"I—you might feel inclined to tell your uncle so that he might avoid having someone like me in his home."
"You mistake the kind of man my uncle is. If he knew, he would be offended on your behalf, but he would not turn you away. However, I am honored that you chose to tell me what you have suffered, Sarah. I will keep your secret." Again, his gaze moved from her eyes to her mouth and lower.
She shouldn't have a man in her room, but his perusal of her sent a tingle through her that settled deep in her belly. "You should not be here."
"No." He stepped toward the door. "Of course, you're right. However, it is still quite early. If you feel up to it after you've eaten, perhaps you might walk with me to see the sights of Bristol?"
Refusing would be the smarter course, but she longed for his company. She had trouble looking at him and observed the ruby rug at her feet instead. "What must you think of me?"
He closed the space between them, and she couldn't help but look up. "We can discuss my thoughts when you have eaten and dressed, Sarah. I cannot remain here in your room with you so deliciously robed."
Gut twisting, she held her breath. "Because I am wanton, you think my favors are easily gained."
