Chapter 33
Once the initial doses of laudanum had worn off, Colt scribbled Sarah the note she had requested, confirming that he still lived and so too did his opponent. With the help of a sizeable glass of whiskey, he fell into a disturbed slumber.
Colt had expected Sarah to call the following day, but she did not.
She failed to send him a response at all.
As another day went by, he grew disconsolate, as doubt cast a shadow over their once cherished friendship.
Did she not care for him at all? Was her judgment of him harsh enough to keep her away?
Miss Coombes had hounded him after the duel until he was forced to be uncivil.
At least it had brought the matter to a head, however uncomfortable it proved to be for them both.
Despite his years assisting young ladies with their sexual awakenings, it still surprised him when one was conceited enough to believe she would be the one to tame him.
Miss Coombes had proved the most coercive of them all.
In the end, Colt felt he’d walked away with his honour intact.
After several days of convalescing in bed, the doctor confirmed that his wound was healing nicely, and he showed no signs of having developed an infection.
Colt therefore arrived at Sarah’s residence in Curzon Street that evening, shoulders back and head held high, determined to discuss where he stood with her.
He had an important question to ask her.
One he should have asked a long time ago.
The night brought with it heavy rain and gusty wind. As he hurried from his carriage, Colt became rather wet, having left his umbrella at home. Upon entering Sarah’s house, a footman relieved him of his belongings and led him into Sarah’s inviting sitting room.
When Colt sauntered in, Sarah gasped in surprise.
She sat at a small desk off to the side of the room, close to the crackling fire, apparently writing some letters.
Not prepared to receive visitors, she wore a plain dress of dove gray and a lace shawl draped over her arms. She stood up and adjusted her skirt about her.
“Good evening, Robert. Your Madeira is vastly superior. I cannot think you are here to sample mine?”
“I would most willingly share your Madeira, Sarah,” he said, playing along.
She poured them both wine, but her hands quivered, and a few drops spilled onto the table.
Colt waited for her to be seated before he sat down across from her.
“You survived the duel, I collect?” she remarked. “I am sure -everyone is grateful for your restraint in not murdering Mr Dalrymple.”
Colt was relieved she had some feeling about it. “Restraint seems an ironic term. I had every intention of doing what was requested, but as luck would have it, that damned fool Leggy gave me the empty pistol, so I was denied the opportunity. Dalrymple shot me instead.”
Sarah stiffened. “Are you all right?”
“Thankfully, he is not a good marksperson. I shall mend soon enough.” He took a large sip and refocused on his objective. “I wanted to talk to you about a few things.”
“I’m listening.”
He wished she would show some emotion. That would make this conversation much easier. “It will please you to know that I have ended the dalliance with Miss Coombes.”
Sarah’s stony expression did not change. “Indeed? I daresay that is in everyone’s best interests. Are you able to cope with the disappointment?”
Colt regarded her closely. Did she really suspect that he had a sincere attachment to Miss Coombes? “It may surprise you to learn that I had no feelings vested in the matter, so I shall endure admirably.”
Her eyes flashed, then met his with a hard look. “I am not at all surprised, Robert. You are the only person I know who lives to indulge respectable young ladies and risk ruining them with no compunction, if given half the chance.”
An unexpected shiver of shame swept over him. “I cannot deny this. I have been a wretch. But I wish to make amends.”
“To all of them?”
“To you, Sarah. I have been insufferable to you. At every chance, you have given me your wise counsel, yet I have acted foolishly. I have used the affections and reputations of these ladies to make myself feel alive. Never was there a more selfish soul than I.”
She looked surprised. “And this admission should be enough to absolve you, by your reckoning?”
He paused, unsure of what he might say to convince her of his earnestness. “I recognise I am not worthy of absolution. But a chance, Sarah, to prove myself to you… .”
Sarah swallowed. “Are you hoping to continue our friendship?”
He sank to his knees at her feet. “I hope to marry you, Sarah. And continue our friendship.”
She gasped and clapped a hand across her mouth. “Colt, don’t!”
“Will you marry me?” he pushed, his eyes locked with hers.
She shook her head. “You cannot bully me, Robert.”
“I do not wish to do that. But you are not listening to me,” he insisted.
“I am listening to you, Robert. But I am saying no.”
Colt stared at her, crestfallen, before rising to his feet. He turned his back to her and stood by the fire. He dragged his hand through his hair. What else could he do to persuade her that they were meant to be together?
“You cannot deny the passion between us, Sarah. I have thought of little else since that night at Vauxhall. Since we met, damn it.”
“Except for those moments when Miss Coombes was in your arms at Byron’s.”
He spun around to her again. “You and everyone else seem so quick to condemn me on that head. For the record, I did not take her in my arms that night. I understand that might be difficult to believe. In fact, my past behaviour aligns with the accusations levelled against me. But upon my life, what happened in that room was a misunderstanding.” He moved to sit beside her, taking her hand.
“She appeared to faint, and when I came to help her, she attempted to kiss me. I was trying to extricate myself from her arms, but it was at that unfortunate moment that her scorned beau intervened.” Just saying the words, Colt had to admit, it sounded like hogwash.
“There was no way of escaping the challenge without impugning her reputation further. I could not well tell him that she was endeavouring to kiss me.”
He sighed. “Had I not already somewhat dallied with her on prior occasions, I should have been more persistent in denying the allegation. But I simply could not bring myself to blame her. It was entirely my fault for allowing her to entertain hopes about me. So, I accepted the punishment.”
Sarah considered him. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I have never lied to you, Sarah. And I never will.”
“You crave novelty and excitement, Robert. While I might seem special now, you would quickly realise how dull I am. Then you would seek someone new to play with.”
“I am inclined to disagree with you. I will be devoted to you.”
“Why? Because I fucked you?”
Colt smiled, his cheeks warming at her frank words.
He knew in every fibre of his being that her assessment was incorrect.
Over the years, she had become his closest companion.
He spent so many hours walking the parks with her, teasing her with playful banter, and shocking her with his latest exploits.
They attended house parties in the country and enjoyed nights where they stayed up until the small hours, long after the other guests retired.
There were the many mornings she called upon him when he was still abed, unwell from the excessive diversions of the previous night, and she made him feel better with hot coffee and a cold compress.
He recalled the Christmas they enjoyed together when they found themselves snowed in on their way back to town from a shooting party in Scotland.
They stopped at an inn and cultivated Christmas cheer using some spruce branches and a few candles, then shared a cozy meal and innumerable glasses of aromatic mulled wine.
They sang traditional Christmas carols with their indifferent voices and exchanged one soft, lingering kiss.
He had wanted to make love to her that night, but she had hastily withdrawn.
Everything they had ever done together culminated in this moment.
“Because you are my best friend, Sarah. You have tolerated me, looked after me, scolded me when I deserved it, and made me want to better myself. Being intimate not only showed me how well-matched we are, but it also allowed me to hope. Please listen to me, Sarah. I will do whatever is needed to prove to you that I have changed.” He kissed her knuckles.
“I will be attentive and loyal and patient. I am yours.”
As he spoke, a smile slowly formed on Sarah’s lips, like a curtain pulled to unveil a masterpiece. Tears glistened on the tips of her eyelashes. “I suspect patience is not something you have in abundance, Robert.”
“And yet, I will wait forever if I have to.”
“You will wait?”
He nodded and kissed her lightly on the lips. “As long as you need,” he promised. “My love is not going anywhere.”
Sarah’s cheeks coloured prettily. She kissed him back.
Yes, he had hope.
***
As Colt stretched out on the sofa in front of the flickering fire, Sarah encircled in his good arm, he decided to raise another subject that had been plaguing him from the confines of his sickbed.
“Have you heard from George?”
She shook her head. “No, though that is not unusual.” She absently stroked the length of each of his fingers, unaware how distracting that was to him.
“Then you have not seen the developments in the newspapers about Solitaires?”
“Robert, no. I am not as obsessed with gossip as you think me,” Sarah answered, exasperated with his line of questioning. “What development do you speak of?”
Colt scoffed. “Only that the Bow Street Runners conducted a strike on St James’s Square on Sunday afternoon. Solitaires was finally unmasked, and both Ellis and Montgomery were arrested.”
Sarah swivelled to face him, finally impressed, her face a blend of delight and awe. “That is marvellous,” she cried, embracing him. “Arthur will be saved. Georgina’s troubles will be at an end.”
“Except she has gone to ground,” Colt murmured, stealing the opportunity to kiss Sarah on the nose.
She grinned. “I think you might be able to guess where she is, don’t you?”