“Your consideration is all I ask,” Sarah said, getting to her feet. She wished she could slow her heartbeat and stop her limbs from shaking. “I will be staying indefinitely with my aunt, Lady Venetia Randolph, at Westbrook Park. It is a little more than ahalf hour’s coach ride away. You are welcome to call on me at any time convenient.”
Mr. Moulton stood as well. At least this uncouth man had some manners.
Sarah held out her trembling hand. “I will go now. Thank you for your time, Mr. Moulton.”
He took her hand in his own large one and bowed over it. “Lady Sarah.”
She found that despite his brusque manners and his size and strength, he made her feel safe rather than intimidated. When her hand hit her side, she realized he had let go. She gave him a small smile and attempted to retrieve her dignity. She left the room with her head held high and asked Mr. Wigan to call for the carriage.
“I already have, Your Ladyship.” The butler walked with her to the front of the house. “Mr. Phipps will be here with the carriage any moment.”
“Mr. Wigan, should—should anyone come looking for me,” Sarah said, her voice unsteady, “will you let them know where to find me?”
The butler gave her a sad, pitying look underneath his dark eyebrows. “Of course, Lady Sarah.”
She heard the sound of clomping hooves. “Goodbye, old friend.”
He assisted her inside the carriage, and the vehicle began to shake as it propelled forward. Sarah released a breath. She placed her hands on her chest in an attempt to slow the rapid beating of her heart. She had just proposed marriage to a complete stranger.
Chapter 2
Christopher felt as if allthe air had been knocked out of him. A stunning woman, nay alady, a complete stranger, had just proposed marriage to him. He sat back down on the chair—his chair. In his house.Hisestate. It was all so much to take in, but all he could think about was a pair of light-brown eyes and a beguiling smile. She was not beautiful; she was better than that. Lady Sarah Denham was unforgettable. Her clothing was the very finest and her figure perfection.
He pulled at his neckcloth. He had stared at her much too long.
What she proposed was preposterous!
Or was it?
He tugged at his neckcloth again and the knot came untied. In his father’s wildest ambitions, he never would have believed that his eldest son could be the child to make a grand match. All of Papa’s dreams had been for Christopher’s late brothers and his younger sisters. Christopher had always been an embarrassment, the child his father had sent away to work at an early age to hide the scars beneath his nose. A social climber needed a perfect family.
Christopher sighed. Papa was dead. Christopher no longer needed to beg for his father’s approval by marrying a grand lady. Besides, his sisters would be here at any moment, and he needed to prepare the house for their arrival. Standing up, he determined to think about Lady Sarah Denham another time. He opened the door of the sitting room and found every servant in the house standing in a row, as if they were soldiers. He swallowed, and the swarthy man, presumably the butler, who had brought him into the house came forward.
“Allow me to welcome you to your home, Mr. Moulton.”
“Thank you,” Christopher said and glanced again at the line of servants, who were watching him surreptitiously from where they stood.
“I am Mr. Wigan. I will be your butler, if you will it. This is Mrs. Harmony,” he said and pointed to a thin woman of grim aspect and numerous blonde curls. “She has been the housekeeper for fifteen years.”
Christopher held out his hand, and the butler bowed his head before taking it and shaking it. Christopher did not offer his hand to Mrs. Harmony; clearly the servants were not used to handshakes. He could not picture Lady Sarah grasping anyone’s hand. He winced, realizing he had made a vulgar mistake within minutes of entering the house. He tried to keep a blank face as he nodded to the servants as Mr. Wigan introduced all thirty-seven of them. Christopher had no idea what most of them did; his house in London ran very well with only eight servants. Although his town house was large for London, it was small compared to the grandeur of Manderfield Hall.
The butler bowed to him again. “We can make any adjustments you think necessary, sir.”
“I am sure your current arrangements will work very well for me,” Christopher said, waving his hand. “You may all return to your work. Thank you for your time.”
The servants filed off in every direction, leaving only the housekeeper.
Mrs. Harmony curtsied, her corkscrew curls bobbing up and down. “Mr. Moulton, sir, might I have a few moments of your time to discuss household matters?”
“Of course.”
She reached into her apron pocket and took out a paper written in perfect copperplate script. “Lady Sarah prepared the dinner menu for the rest of the week. If it meets with yourapproval, I will let the cook know. If not, we will do our best to accommodate your wishes.”
He accepted the paper from her and read the menu. At least half of the dishes’ names he did not recognize. His stomach churned in discomfort.
Handing the paper back to Mrs. Harmony, he said, “Everything appears to be in order.”
The housekeeper bit her lower lip and pulled a large brass ring full of keys from her pocket. “These are the housekeeping keys, sir. Usually the lady of the house holds them in her possession.”