“I seem to have lost you,” Sarah said, watching him closely. “Have you fallen into a memory? Can you take me with you?”
His eyes fell to his plate, and he picked up his fork. “I was thinking of my own mother. She liked things plain and simple.”
“Oh dear. I do not like anything plain or simple.”
Christopher could well believe that. Every piece of clothing he’d seen Sarah wear had been ornate and eye-catching. And nothing about Manderfield Hall was plain. Especially not her room, which was sumptuously decorated in pink and gold. Like a beautiful butterfly, Sarah fit perfectly in it. If only Christopher could fit half so well in his own room of blue and gold.
He cleared his throat. “Mama led a simple life. She was never taught to read or write. She didn’t have her first servant until after my younger brother Francis was born. Papa insisted that she needed the help with the children.”
The sunlight that was in Sarah’s face dimmed. She must have realized that Francis had died. She reached her hand across the table and grabbed Christopher’s thick wrist, squeezing it gently. Her delicate hand didn’t reach even halfway around it. “Oh, Christopher, I am so sorry to hear about your little brother and your mother.”
He did not meet her eyes. “My three little brothers. A plague was rampant in the neighborhood and claimed all four of them in a matter of a fortnight. My father was wise enough to send my two sisters away from the sickness.”
Sarah did not release her hold on his wrist. “And where were you?”
“Digging a canal near Gloucester. I did not learn about it until long after. My father didn’t bother to tell me.”
She squeezed his wrist again. “How devastating. I am so sorry, Christopher. To lose so many beloved members of your family in such a short amount of time—I cannot comprehend such sorrow. What were the names of your other brothers?”
“John and Fred.”
“And Francis,” Sarah said.
She had been listening closely to what he said. Christopher nodded, his heart heavy. “My father was never the same after. He became obsessed with joining the highest echelons of Society.” For his two youngest daughters. Not Christopher. Never for his scarred eldest son.
Sarah let go of her hold on him. He instantly missed her warmth and the silklike touch of her skin. “Terrible things happen even to members of theton. Misery doesn’t care about one’s position in Society or whom it leaves alone.”
Despite the difference in their classes, he truly felt that his new wife did understand the pain that he carried. That he would always carry. It was a rather somber subject to base their relationship on, but grief was something they shared. Something that only other grievers could understand.
Christopher took a few bites of his breakfast. “Still, I intend to make all of my father’s dreams for my sisters come true.”
Tilting her head to one side, Sarah eyed him closely. “Did your father not have any dreams for you? And do you not have dreams for yourself?”
As the head of his business, no one had dared asked Christopher such searching questions. He’d never had the time to create dreams of his own. Over the years, he had learned every position involved by first doing it himself. He was a decent drafter, a fine foreman, and an even better land engineer. He’d been taught how to read and to write and to run a company. He’d been too busy taking care of his father’s legacy to dream.
He glanced up at Sarah’s dancing eyes, and he knew he could not give her that answer. “Friends. Family. Children of my own. The usual things.”
“I wish for the usual things too,” she said in a soft voice, and there was no trace of arrogance.
“If you’d like, I can start new inquiries about the disappearance of your mother.” The words were out of Christopher’s mouth before he’d even had time to go over them in his brain.
Sarah flinched in her seat, but then he saw the smile build on her face. The way to Sarah’s heart was through her mother. Not even her position in Society. Nor her title. Not Manderfield Hall—even though she cared a great deal for the estate and its tenants. “That would be wonderful, Christopher. I can give you all the initial reports from the original inquiries. I kept everything.”
“Thank you. That would be most helpful. I have many connections at the English docks and with merchants all over the world. I will have them scour every manifest and list for the last seven years.”
If Lady Manders had abandoned her daughter for the Americas or Australia, it would be painful for Sarah to learn, but it would still be better than her being plagued by not knowing.
“And there is a portrait of my mother. Perhaps a likeness could be made and copied to be sent out.”
Christopher drained the juice from his cup. “Do you resemble her?”
Her eyes were full of tears as Sarah shook her head. “No. Mama was a great beauty.”
“So are you,” he said and meant it. The more he saw her and got to know her, the more beautiful this striking woman in front of him became.
Shrugging, she gave a little laugh. “I work very hard to be presentable.”
“You needn’t, I assure you.”