‘Thank you. I shall remember,’ he promised. Sarah thought there was a hint of regret in his face as he turned to her. ‘It was good to see you again, Miss Hunter.’
‘Yes,’ Sarah replied. She got up from her chair and walked to meet him, offering her hand. John hesitated briefly before taking it in his. Sarah tingled at his touch. There was a clean fresh scent about him that she found appealing and she wished that he might take her in his arms, but he had let go of her hand and was about to turn away. He must not go like this! Before she could prevent the words they leapt from her tongue, ‘Perhaps we shall meet in town, sir?’
‘I am not sure,’ John said with a vague look in his eyes.
‘But you promised to dance with me at Elizabeth’s ball!’ Sarah knew that she ought not to press him, but something inside told her that if she did not speak now it might be too late. ‘Surely you will not disappoint Elizabeth—and me?’
John was caught as he saw the appeal in her eyes. She had never looked prettier than she did now in her jonquil-yellow morning gown and it hurt to refuse her anything. He hesitated for a moment before inclining his head. ‘It seems as if I gave my word and must therefore keep it, Miss Hunter. I shall come up for the ball.’
Sarah’s heart beat wildly. He was grieving for his wife, but he still liked her. She was sure in that instant that John felt something. Perhaps it was not yet love, but that might come in time.
‘I shall save two dances for you, sir. Do not leave me standing alone.’
‘I never lightly break my word,’ John said. ‘Excuse me, ladies. I must say goodbye to Charles and Daniel. I have spoken to Elizabeth.’
Sarah was silent after he left the room, but there was a look of such longing on her face that Arabella guessed what was in her mind.
‘John is a man whose thoughts and emotions run deeply,’ Arabella said, looking pensive. ‘You must be patient, Sarah. I think he has much on his mind, but I am sure that he will find a solution to his problems.’
Arabella wondered if she ought to explain that John was being threatened. He had confided to Charles that someone had begun spreading rumours about the nature of Andrea’s death. Charles had, of course, dismissed it as spiteful nonsense. He was very angry that letters and whispers were circulating.
‘How anyone could think it for one moment!’ Charles had burst into furious speech when they were alone the previous night. ‘John is the last man on this earth I would suspect of having killed his wife.’
‘Why would anyone wish to spread such a rumour?’ Arabella had asked him. ‘It is scandalous and cruel. Someone must hate him to do such a thing.’ She frowned as a thought occurred to her. ‘Could it have anything to do with that other business?’
‘You mean because of the part John played in thwarting Sir Courtney’s attempt to abduct you and force you to marry him?’
‘Yes,’ Arabella replied, looking anxious. ‘John risked his life for our sakes, but why should he be the one to suffer now? And Captain Hernshaw fired the shot that killed Sir Courtney when he tried to kill Sarah and I…’
‘As well us as John if someone wanted revenge for that affair,’ Charles agreed. ‘No, I think this has more to do with John. There is something else…something that runs deeper.’ He explained that John had found some of Andrea’s possessions in his room. ‘Someone must have put that stocking on his bed. It did not get there of its own accord.’
‘Is that so surprising? I dare say the maids found it tucked away somewhere. My things often get left in your room. It could have been caught under the bed or some such thing.’
Charles shook his head. ‘I do not think John’s marriage was like ours, Belle. He would never speak of his intimate situation but…I have never thought it a love match.’
‘Nor I,’ Arabella agreed. ‘He was attentive and kind to her—but not as a man in love might be.’
‘John thought it right to inform me of the rumours and mentioned that he was under a strain. However, he said nothing of their relationship. What I have told you is merely my opinion.’
‘I had already formed my own,’ Arabella said. ‘It seems that John has an enemy, Charles.’
‘Yes, that was the conclusion I formed. I made him promise to seek out Tobbold—you may recall that both Daniel and I have found him a useful man?’ She nodded. ‘John needs someone to help him now. He must discover who is spreading malicious lies. Meanwhile, this remains a secret between us. Mama is not to be told, though both Elizabeth and Daniel have been informed. John wanted them to know because of the ball.’
‘You don’t think…’ Arabella was dismayed. ‘I imagined the gossip was confined to John’s village and home. It will be uncomfortable for him if it becomes generally known and believed.’
‘It will not be known from any of us!’
‘No, certainly not,’ she agreed.
Seeing the sadness in Sarah’s eyes after John had left them, Arabella was tempted to confide in the girl. However, on further reflection, she decided against speaking. It was not truly her affair. John might resent it if he knew that his secret had been betrayed. After all, had he wished Sarah to know, he would no doubt have told her himself.
‘I should not have rejected him before I left for Italy,’ Sarah said, breaking the silence between them. ‘He would have spoken then had I allowed it. I thought for a while that I should never wish to marry anyone.’
‘And now?’ Arabella asked, but before Sarah could answer, the door opened and both Elizabeth and Mrs Hunter came in. ‘Ah, there you are. Did you see John just now? He has been taking his leave of us. He has important business elsewhere but has promised to come up to town for your ball, Elizabeth.’
‘Has he?’ Elizabeth was surprised. ‘He must have changed his mind, for he seemed to think he would not manage it. I am glad that he will come. He looks tired and drained, and I am sure that it is no wonder. He needs to be with friends.’
‘Yes, that is what Charles thinks,’ Arabella agreed. She glanced at Mrs Hunter, who was clutching some letters. ‘Did those just arrive?’
‘Your housekeeper gave them to me,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘One is for you, Arabella—and one for you, Sarah.’
Sarah took the letter from her mother. She walked over to a small table by the window and sat down on an elegant parlour chair, breaking the seal. She knew who had sent it—it carried the wax impression of the Conte di Ceasares’ seal. She scanned the few lines swiftly.
‘This is from the Conte,’ she told her mother. ‘It is just to say that he hopes we had a good journey.’
Mrs Hunter looked disappointed. ‘I had thought he might have written to say he intended to visit London.’
‘No, Mama. It is simply a polite letter to inquire after our health.’
‘Did you wish to see him again, Mrs Hunter?’ Elizabeth said with a teasing look, for she had no idea of who the Conte was or what age he might be. ‘Or perhaps Sarah…’
‘He was very taken with Sarah in Italy,’ Mrs Hunter said and looked thoughtful. ‘Had she been more sensible, she might have been married to him by now.’ She gave her daughter a straight look.
‘Mama!’ Sarah cried, blushing bright pink. ‘I pray you will not say such things.’
‘And why should you pray that, miss?’ Her mother looked at her in some annoyance. ‘The Conte is rich, attractive and charming—and not so very much older. You are foolish not to have taken him when he asked, Sarah.’ She nodded as Sarah stared at her. ‘I am aware that you refused him without reference to me. Had you asked, I should have advised you to take him.’
‘Please, Mama, do not,’ Sarah begged,