Chapter 32 #3
She flew out of the carriage and advanced on him like a demon, beating him with her hands, hitting that beautiful chest with her clenched fists, so furious, so enraged that she didn’t care what she was saying.
Nor did she give a flying farthing that people’s attention was no longer on the blaze but on her—Lady Sarah Eston having a fit.
“You blew yourself up, you bloody daft man,” she screamed.
“Sarah!”
He grabbed her wrists with both hands and held them away from him.
“You could have died! You could have died!”
“I had all I could think of without you being in the mix,” he shouted. “I could have killed you, Sarah Eston. Did you never think of that?”
She lowered her head, her rage passing, but slowly. Several long minutes passed while she strained to regain her composure. He released her wrists, and she stepped back, still breathing heavily.
“Ah, love, I could have hurt you,” he said softly.
She looked up at him. “You sound very Scottish,” she said. “Why is that?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, in full view of anyone who chose to look in their direction, he pinned her up against the side of the carriage and kissed her—gloriously, wondrously. All she could do was hold on to him and moan when he deepened the kiss.
She slid her hands across his chest, reached out to grab his shoulders, then smoothed her palms down his arms. She wanted to feel all of him, to reassure herself that he was actually there.
He wasn’t a figment of her desperate imagination.
This wasn’t a dream in which she was given her greatest desire.
He was actually there, holding her, kissing her.
“Bloody daft woman,” he murmured against her lips.
“Bloody daft man,” she said. “You blew yourself up.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have if I’d known you were coming.”
She pulled back and looked at him, her hands flat against his chest. He was so precious to her and so very angry. She was just as angry. Let him be enraged. Let them both be furious, as long as he was alive.
“I could have hurt you, Sarah,” he said softly, both hands touching her face. His fingers danced along her cheekbones, then threaded into the hair at her temples. His palms were rough against her cheeks, but she wouldn’t have moved for anything.
“You were in danger, and I never knew,” he said.
Her hands reached out and clasped his wrists. “I couldn’t just let him keep you there, Douglas. I had to do something.”
He shook his head. “You’re a Tulloch,” he said. “For all that you’re the daughter of a duke.”
The duke. She’d completely forgotten. She remembered seeing him being carried between Tim and Alano, then couldn’t recall anything about him.
“Did he survive?”
“The blast? He did. Unfortunately, part of the wall fell on him. I believe he has a broken arm, from what Alano says.”
“And Simons?”
“He and I both made it to the second floor before the explosion.”
At that moment, Douglas decided to kiss her again, so she couldn’t possibly concentrate on Simons’s fate.
A kiss or two later, she remembered something else and pulled back, staring into his shadowed face intently.
“Why do you want to end our marriage?” she asked.
Instead of answering her, he entered the carriage and pulled her in behind him. On another day, she would tell him that such actions were not those of a gentleman, and he would write the information in his journal. For now, she tumbled onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He chuckled and pulled her closer, hugging her so tightly that she could feel his heart beat against her breast.
He spoke softly against her temple. “I would never let you go, Sarah,” he said. “It was your father who threatened me with the dissolution of the marriage if I didn’t produce his diamonds.”
She slapped against his shoulder, pushing back so she could stare into his face.
“He has no right! How dare he even threaten such a thing!”
“He has no rights,” Douglas said, “but I didn’t discover that until I inquired of my solicitor.” It was his turn to study her face. “Did you follow me?”
“I was trying to find where you disappeared. I thought you’d decided not to be married anymore.”
He pulled her closer as if to admonish her for such a thought.
“I actually went to try to negotiate with your father. I was going to give him all the small diamonds I had in return for the agreement we signed. I wanted him out of our lives. Unfortunately, I never got the chance.”
She stared at him. “I don’t think he’s my father,” she said, realizing that she hadn’t told him. “I may not even be Lady Sarah.” She explained what she knew about her mother and Michael Tulloch.
He was quiet when she finished.
“Would your life change all that much?” he finally said. “If you discovered it was true, and you were Michael’s daughter?”
She glanced at him, surprised. “It would explain why the duke has always disliked me. But I wouldn’t feel right living at Chavensworth.”
“You, of all people, have earned Chavensworth. I’ve never seen anyone work so hard or be responsible for so much.”
She sat back, a little overwhelmed by his praise. She’d never known he felt that way about her.
Perhaps it was the lateness of the hour, or the grief she’d already endured, but she looked at him, hiding nothing. “My dearest love, will you please give up those horrible diamonds? I cannot endure another hour of thinking you gone.”
He didn’t speak, only placed his hand against her cheek, searching her face.
“I didn’t think you would ever say that to me,” he said softly. “Dearest love?”
“My very dearest,” she said softly. “Dearling.”
He brushed her chin with his fingers, traced the line of her jaw, trailed them over her lips.
“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. The moment you leveled that disdainful glance in my direction, and I saw the fear in your eyes. I thought you brave before, but now I know how much courage is in your heart.”
He leaned over and kissed her and, for a delightful few moments, conversation was simply unnecessary.
When he drew back, she slid her hands up to link them behind his neck and leaned forward, placing her cheek gently against his wounded cheek.
“I was so worried,” she said. She’d been grief-stricken, like the woman in the mirror. She pushed that thought from her mind, in favor of curiosity. She pulled back. “Did you cause the explosion on purpose?”
He smiled. “Actually? I planned to blow off the door, not the entire house. If Simons hadn’t decided to release me, I might have been scattered from here to Scotland.”
“Good for Simons,” she said. “Perhaps we can find a position for him somewhere.”
“I think I’ll offer him a position as majordomo,” he said, surprising her. “He can either educate Paulson or replace him. Either way, Alano will be happy.”
She chuckled and placed her hand against his chest, over his heart, feeling it beat strongly. At this moment, this perfect moment covered in soot and dust, and breathing the scent of fire, Lady Sarah Eston was the happiest she’d ever been.