Page 8 of An Honorable Arrangement
The captain stepped forward. "Captain Devon Phillips." He bowed.
The entire scene was ridiculous. Monty bowed. "Montgomery Witman. How did you get involved in this, Captain?"
"The lady asked for directions, and I thought it best she not arrive here unaccompanied. Is she your ward?"
Sarah made a scoffing sound.
"Hardly," Monty said. "I am charged to bring her to her guardians at her new home in Sussex. We stopped in Oxford for the night, and she ran. Though I have no idea why."
"I want to live with my father. Is that so difficult for you to understand?"
He excused himself and rounded the captain. "Until you left, I had the impression you were an orphan. However, I don’t understand why you didn't ask me to bring you here."
"Because you would have said no. You have a carriage to earn. You have plans to adhere to." In the crisp air forewarning of snow, her teeth chattered.
"Why didn't you just wait and ask Lord Stapleton to bring you to see your father? I'm sure he would not mind. My aunt likes to visit the sea. I don't know why you ran away and made me give chase. Mrs. Pratt was frantic when I put her in my carriage to follow." Somehow, despite his anger, he couldn't yell at her. She was close to tears and her shivers had grown worse. She looked desperately in need of a friend while standing on the steps of her father's house.
"I'm sorry for upsetting Mary. You needn't have come after me. I'm old enough to make my own way, and now, I am home." Taking hold of the knocker, she lifted her chin, and then clacked the brass ring.
With a slow bow, Monty backed up a step to stand next to Captain Phillips.
The captain whispered, "Has she never met Sommers?"
"I don't believe so."
"This will not go well, my lord." Captain Phillips frowned.
Gut tightening and ready for whatever happened, Monty steeled himself.
Captain Phillips stood his ground and pulled his shoulders back.
Sarah turned toward them. "You gentlemen need not stay. I am home now."
Neither one moved as she returned her attention to the door and knocked a second time.
The door flew open. "Who the hell is making all that noise?"
Sarah jerked back a step.
Monty took her elbow to steady her.
A tall man with broad shoulders leaned on the jamb, presumably to keep his drunken self upright. His thinning brown hair was slick with a lack of washing. Most disturbing, his eyes were exactly like Sarah's. This was no slovenly butler. Before them stood Bertram Sommers.
He glanced from Captain Phillips to Monty and then at Sarah before returning his attention to the captain. "Looks just like her mother." He spit on his own floor. "What do you want, Phillips?"
"I am here to see to your daughter's safety."
A disgusted sound pushed from Sommer's slack lips. He turned his back on them, stepped into the dust-covered foyer, and collapsed on the floor.
Sarah stared at the filthy excuse of a man lying in a heap on the floor. She blinked. "That cannot be my father."
Phillips stepped around them, grabbed Sommers under the arms, and dragged him through a doorway to the right. "If Bertram Sommers is your father, then I'm sorry to inform you this is indeed him."
"But…where is the butler? Why is he dirty and drunk? Why is this house such a mess? Who did this to him?" Outrage laced Sarah's questions.
Monty helped the captain carry Sommers to a couch in the barely livable salon. A chair and a badly scarred desk were the only other pieces of furniture. The drapes were closed, and when Monty drew them back, he'd wished he hadn't. The room was covered in dust and the remains of several meals lay on trays on the floor.
Sarah knelt beside her father's unconscious form. "Father, what happened to you?"
