twirled agitatedly on the spot. ‘What does it matter now?’ Her small hands gestured hopelessness. ‘Edward has gone and taken with him the reason we must endure this madness.’ She pressed her brow with slender fingers as though she might smooth out the furrows there. ‘Oh, how I wish that he were still here,’ she whispered almost to herself.
‘I’m sure you do.’ Gavin’s laugh was as mordant as had been his tone. ‘A few months ago he was a healthy man in his prime. It must be galling having your meal ticket whipped away so unexpectedly.’
‘I wish he were here because I miss him,’ she enunciated icily, yet the grain of truth in his sarcasm made her voice quiver. Her main concern was how she would go on now Edward had left her with nothing of her own. She tilted her chin to glare at the stranger who held sway over her life. ‘And my feelings for your brother are private and none of your concern.’
‘Unfortunately my brother has seen fit to make your very existence my concern.’ It was a reminder issued in a voice of silky steel.
It had the effect of immediately goading Sarah into retaliation. ‘Well, you may fret no longer that I will be a burden of unwanted responsibility.’ A tiny part of her mind acknowledged that she was about to act rashly. Still she could not prevent the words erupting. ‘I would sooner face penury than accept your charity.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ Gavin said ironically. ‘Charity is not at all what I have in mind for you, Miss Marchant. I intend you earn your keep.’
Swiftly Sarah settled her bonnet back on her head and tied the strings with unsteady fingers. Blood thundered at her temples, making her feel she might faint as she readied herself to leave. She could tell it was late afternoon as the sun was low and soon Mr Bloom would be closed for business. She must purchase laudanum from the apothecary before heading back home. But it was the unspoken question hovering between them that was really prompting her to speed away.
Several times since their encounter in Mr Pratt’s office Sarah’s mind had glanced away from an unpalatable truth. A virile man—and especially, as in this case an infamous womaniser—was unlikely to turn down the opportunity to bed a young woman passed on to him for that purpose. When one took into account that the fellow was required to pay for her board and lodging, the idea that he might do so simply from the goodness of his heart seemed ludicrous.
But Gavin’s furious reaction on hearing of Edward’s wishes had encouraged Sarah to hope they might find a less sordid solution to this conundrum. From the start Gavin Stone had seemed to her to be his own man and not a character to take easily to his brother manipulating him from the grave. But she could no longer deny that the fire in his eyes was generated as much by lust as anger. He might not like her, he might mock and scorn her and call her a harlot, but none of it would stop him wanting to sleep with her. And she was his for the taking…or so he thought…
‘Good day to you, sir,’ she said with admirable aplomb and attempted to stride past him.
‘Are you about to run away again like a spoiled child because you cannot get your own way?’ Gavin had stepped to block her path, but it was his comment, not his person, that brought her to a halt.
Her blonde head swayed back on her slender neck and she attacked him with fierce tawny eyes. ‘I am not running away,’ she informed him clearly. ‘I am going because I refuse to participate in more pointless wrangling over Edward’s will.’ She sucked in a calming breath. ‘You have rejected my very reasonable compromise, and so be it. For now it seems wise to part company and see if a solution can be found tomorrow. Perhaps by then a little of the hostility between us might have evaporated.’ There was a brief pause before she added, ‘Good day to you, sir.’
‘I’m encouraged that you think there is yet hope for us, Miss Marchant.’
Sarah dodged past him and, when sure she was in no danger of being restrained, swished about to look back at him. ‘And I’m encouraged, sir, that you did not immediately act petulantly and say you would be miles away in London tomorrow.’ She hesitated at his silence and took a step closer to him again. She was now in a more logical frame of mind. The thought that he might return home had rendered her more anxious than annoyed. ‘Are you going straight back to London?’ she demanded to know.
‘No. I have my petulance under control,’ he wryly answered. He gazed indicatively at the golden orb settled on the horizon. ‘It would be foolish to travel overnight and risk being set upon by felons. Should I expire also, I imagine you, Miss Marchant, would be in very dire straits.’
Sarah gave him a faux-sweet smile. ‘Then I must wish you good health, sir, and safe journeys, till we have this sorted out to my liking.’ She watched his amusement deepen, his mouth and eyes soften as he casually put his hands in to his pockets. At times he could look quite youthful and appealing when hard mockery was gone from his eyes and they shared a little joke…
Sarah put such silly sentiment from her mind. Just a short while ago he had insulted her, shown his disdain for a woman he classed as little more than a harlot. With a very brief nod she turned her back on him and gracefully walked away.
* * *
Sarah caught Mr Bloom just as he was in the process of bolting the door to his apocothery. He slid back the bolts, welcomed her in, and served her the usual dose of laudanum.
If privately Daniel Bloom held an opinion on the quantity of the drug he sold to Miss Marchant, he kept his own counsel. She was a joy to behold and a good customer and it would not do to upset her. He watched her curvaceous figure with an appreciative eye as she turned from the counter, clutching her purchase. Time and again over the years he had deemed Edward Stone a lucky dog to have such a filly in his bed. But of course now Edward Stone was lucky no more…and it was whispered that neither was Miss Marchant…
Already there was a rumour in town that Miss Marchant had been so put out by what transpired at the will reading earlier that she’d run off in a fine old state. But then people were always looking for something to tattle over.
Daniel looked out of the shop window. Towards the eastern end of the High Street he could see the dogcart with old Matthew Jackson perched on the seat. He’d seen the fellow sitting like that, puffing on his pipe, for quite a long time. Daniel watched Sarah increase her pace as though she regretted being late for her lift home. Daniel shook his head in disbelief. For a woman who got through that amount of sedative she had a surprising amount of vim.
‘I’m sorry to be late, Matthew,’ Sarah burst out as she came within earshot of Maude’s husband. He often brought her into town and always waited in the same spot for her to finish her business.
‘Don’t matter none,’ the old fellow answered having removed the clay pipe. Once she had settled on the seat beside him, he gave her a grizzled look. ‘All come right, has it?’ It was Matthew’s oblique way of asking whether she’d got a pleasing bequest from her protector’s will.
Sarah summoned up a small smile and tried to look optimistic. ‘Not quite,’ she answered. ‘But I’ve not yet lost hope that it will…eventually.’
Matthew grunted an unintelligible response, thrust the pipe back between his teeth, and set the horse in motion. After a few yards the pipe was removed again. ‘Straight home?’ he asked.
‘No…’ Sarah looked at the brown bottle clutched on her lap. ‘No, to Aunt Bea’s, please, Matthew.’
He grunted again and bashed out the pipe’s contents on the side of the cart. Shaking his head dolefully, he gave his full attention to the road.
Gavin watched the cart pulling into the distance as he strolled back to the Red Lion. A look of frustration tautened his features. It was not solely due to the fact that the day was closing with his inheritance still hanging in the balance. Constantly pricking his mind was the wish that Edward’s mistress might be as unappealing to him as had been his spouse.
Even when Janet had been a vivacious brunette of twenty with many admirers, he had not found her desirable.