Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,38
“Papa died not long after your wedding, so I never did have another Season. Oh, Sarah. I do regret what happened between us. I behaved badly when I ought to have been more gracious. Can you forgive me?”
Sarah lifted one slim shoulder. “The past is of little consequence anymore. If that is all you have come to say…” Her regal tone clearly stated she would hear no more about it.
Swallowing her regrets, Alicia focused on her purpose. Was there any hope of inveigling herself back into Sarah’s goodwill? She felt ashamed of her plan, knowing Sarah’s loss. But she had no alternative. “I’ve thought about you often,” she said, putting warmth into her smile. “It’s wonderful to see you again. How is your family?”
“My parents are quite well, though they prefer the quiet of Oxfordshire to the bustle of town.”
“And your elder brother?”
“He’s wed now, with a son a year younger than mine.”
“You have a son?” Alicia felt a pang of longing so sharp it hurt. She would never cuddle a baby of her own. It was a fact she hadn’t considered when she had made her pact with Drake. “Please, tell me about him.”
“William is four years of age, a rather solemn child.” Sarah’s mouth formed a brittle smile. “I daresay, it is fortunate I bore Featherstone an heir. I shouldn’t have liked Timothy’s penny-pinching cousin to have inherited the title.”
Her callous manner disturbed Alicia. And yet … hadn’t there been a faint softening in her eyes when she’d spoken of her son? “Is William here?” Alicia asked. “I should very much like to meet him.”
“He’s at his lessons in the schoolroom and cannot be disturbed.” Sarah cast a dispassionate glance at Alicia’s fashionable gown of pale blue muslin. “But enough about me. How is your family?”
“As I said, Papa died a few years ago, and Mama … went into a decline for a while. But she’s happy again, as dear and sweet as ever.”
Keeping her gaze steady, Alicia wondered if Sarah would make a snide remark about Mama’s demented state. If she dared …
The duchess merely said, “And your little nuisance of a brother? I hope he isn’t still peeping through keyholes.”
“No,” Alicia said, relieved at the turn of conversation. “He outgrew such nonsense, thank heavens. He’s eighteen now.”
“Yet I hear you’ve been rather busy of late, tidying up after the earl.”
“Gerald is no different from other young gentlemen who must learn their way in the world.” And Gerald had learned his lesson. Just yesterday, she had called on him at Pemberton House, but he had been absent. Later, he’d sent her a note explaining that he’d found a post at a financial institution and she wasn’t to fret about him anymore. He sounded so sure of himself—yet it was difficult not to fret.
Sarah released a well-bred laugh. “My dear, you really cannot expect me to swallow such a milk-and-water tale. The ton is agog with the scandal.”
“What have you heard?” Alicia said cautiously.
“Why, the truth about your marriage. Everyone knows Brockway’s gaming habit forced you to wed that common scoundrel.”
Alicia caught a sharp breath. Just then, a white-wigged footman entered the drawing room carrying a silver tea tray, which he placed on a wheeled trolley beside the duchess. Sarah dismissed him with a majestic wave. As coolly as if she hadn’t just plunged a knife into Alicia’s pride, she said, “I trust you still take sugar in your tea.”
“Yes.”
While Sarah poured, Alicia fumed. Sarah’s lofty status must have eradicated her finer qualities. At one time, she had wept at the sight of a beggar child and she had taken baskets to the infirm. Now there was a cynicism to her so different from the sweet, spirited debutante. If it weren’t for that loathsome bargain, Alicia thought, she would walk out and end this visit.
Sarah handed her a dainty porcelain cup, then offered a plate filled with an array of pastries. “Would you care for a cake? The poppy seed is quite delicious.”
“No, thank you.” Their politeness seemed ludicrous considering the ugly words that hung between them. That common scoundrel.
Though it was the truth, Alicia bristled at the label for reasons she couldn’t fathom. She must accustom herself to such nasty remarks. She must convince Sarah that Drake was worthy of acceptance. “Odd that you would have such a mistaken notion about my husband,” she said lightly. “He is a fine, respectable man. Someone undoubtedly misled you, perhaps one of those gentlemen who have lost their fortunes at