Page 5 of An Honorable Arrangement
"Indeed." Montgomery nodded. "Shall we order, ladies?"
Sarah pulled her mind back to her dinner companions. "That would be acceptable. Thank you."
The server grinned and blushed at Montgomery as she put an ale and two glasses of sherry on the table.
Sarah sipped the watered-down wine. "My lord, I hope you won't think me impertinent, but I wonder how you were designated my escort."
After a gulp of ale, he put down his mug. "My aunt wrote saying you needed an escort, and that you were the daughter of a good friend of hers." He shrugged.
"And you rushed directly to gather me up and carry me to safety. How gallant of you, my lord." Sarcasm seeped into her voice despite her attempt to be sweet.
Rather than the setting down she'd expected, Montgomery Witman laughed. It was a full round sound that echoed off the stone walls and made everyone around him want to share in his joy. "I'm afraid it's not quite so altruistic or gallant as you put it. My uncle sent me the very fine carriage we are traveling in as a gift."
"I see. You get a carriage, and I get a ride to my new keeper." As hard as she tried to sound as if none of it mattered, Sarah couldn't keep the disgust from her tone.
Smile gone, he leaned in and lowered his voice. "Miss Sommers, please do not be offended. I would have come to fetch you regardless of the gift. My uncle often goes overboard with such gestures."
"Why should I be offended? It matters nothing to me if you gain a fine carriage for your services." The crack in her voice told a different story, but she was saved by the arrival of the stew and more libations.
He looked as if he might say more, but Sarah focused on her food, which was quite tasty, and no more was said. It became awkwardly quiet at the small table.
Mary made several attempts at small talk, but failed to engage, and gave up.
As soon as she was satisfied, Sarah excused herself and went to her room. She put an extra dress and some personal things in her carry bag, then tucked it away. She was brushing out her hair when Mary arrived in their room.
"Why did you leave the table in such a hurry? Were you feeling ill?" Mary pulled the tie at her neck and loosened the bow before washing her face and getting ready for bed.
"No. I couldn't keep my word to be civil to Mr. Witman, so I thought it best to remove myself from his company." At least it was a partial truth.
"I don't understand you, Sarah. Mr. Witman is good-looking, charming, and wealthy. He shall inherit his father's title one day. If he liked you, it could solve all your problems, and you would never have to be pushed off to another relative or friend again. You could have your own home and a family." Mary pulled her nightgown over her head and put on her cap.
"Of course, you're right, but I just want something else. I want to live my own life for once, rather than be foisted like a wayward sail from one ship to another." Sarah tucked her hair under a lace-trimmed cap and got into bed.
Mary huffed as she blew out the candle. "That is not our lot in life, and you well know it. These relations of Mr. Witman sound quite nice though. You may find a happy place to stay until you're married."
Stifling a long sigh, Sarah rolled to her side. "I'm sure you're right, Mary."
A moment later, soft snores sounded from Mary's side of the bed, and Sarah tried to sleep.
* * *
Before the sun came up, Sarah slipped from the bed, pulled her nightgown off, and slid into her boots. Her dress was wrinkled from having been under her nightgown while she rested, but there was nothing to be done about that.
Picking up her small bag, she looked back once at Mary. After a moment's regret, she pulled back her shoulders before leaving the room.
Downstairs, she waited for the post to arrive before handing over the bulk of her saved pin money to buy passage to Bristol.
By the time Mr. Witman woke, she would be close enough to her father's house that no amount of chasing would retrieve her. Father would handle all of that once he saw how well Sarah had grown into a young lady. She imagined when he'd been left with an infant, he'd not had much use for her, but now she could run his household and be of help.
A man badly in need of bathing sat across from her. Even in the chill of late September, his red face was shiny with sweat. Another man squeezed onto the seat next to her and then another. The carriage crowding shouldn't bother her, but she wished she could move her arms.
Clutching her bag to her chest, she turned to the window and prayed the roads would be clear, and the trip would pass quickly. Sarah readied herself for a few days of inconvenience that would end with finally seeing her father. All would be well.
Once the carriage pulled out of Oxford, Sarah relaxed. There was little chance of being brought to another temporary home, and the closer she got to her father, the better her chance of happiness became.
Despite being squeezed into the corner of the bench, exhaustion and the constant rumble of wheels lulled her to sleep.
When she woke, the carriage was stopped, and the other passengers had departed. Sarah poked her head out the window.
