Seduced by a Scoundrel - By Barbara Dawson Smith Page 0,89
husky quality entered her voice. “Drake sleeps during the day, so I’m free to do as I please.”
“Ah.” Her curiosity pricked, Sarah sank onto the window seat and studied her friend. “Does your husband know about this school?”
Alicia hesitated, then firmly shook her head. “I shall tell him when the time is right. He will approve.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain. He seems fixed on making his way in society. He’ll forbid you to spend your time with the lower classes.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong. Drake has given employment to many poor souls. He helps the needy, and I must, too. I am determined to show him that we’re compatible in more ways than…” Alicia’s voice trailed off. There was a softness about her mouth, a delicate flush to her cheeks.
“Bedsport,” Sarah murmured, struck by understanding. “He pleases you in the bedchamber.”
Her eyes dreamy, Alicia twirled the globe on the desk. “That does seem to be a time when we’re in perfect accord.”
Sarah felt a sharp stab of something remarkably like … jealousy. She tried to deny it. Charming though he might be, Drake Wilder walked the wicked path of a rake, and she didn’t envy Alicia the heartache that surely lay in store for her. Yet through the wall of her bitterness, Sarah yearned to feel a man’s touch again. To wear a look that bespoke private pleasures in the bedchamber. To be adored, cherished.…
For no reason she could fathom, her gaze strayed to James. The sunlight gilded his tawny hair, and she wondered how different her life would have been if she had chosen him five years ago, if he had been with her instead of out riding that unruly stallion—
She banished the useless fancy. It served no purpose to harbor regrets. If she’d married anyone else, she wouldn’t have William.
Her heart clenched sweetly as she gazed across the study at her son. Not for all the adoring swains in the world would she give him up.
What was James saying to him?
William sat straight at the desk, his small face sober and attentive. For a four-year-old he was far too still. He didn’t swing his legs like other children or fidget on the wooden seat. Perhaps she oughtn’t have brought him here. But they spent so little time together, and she’d wanted to make up for all the times she’d been too mired in her own unhappiness to give attention to him. He was so reserved, Sarah hardly knew what to say to him anymore.
She pressed her fingernails into the window seat. James didn’t appear to be having any such trouble. The deep murmur of his voice drifted the length of the study, and though she strained her ears, she could not discern his words.
“I’m so glad James has agreed to help,” Alicia said. “It’s been good for him to get out of his house. He’ll make a fine instructor for the school. Don’t you agree?”
Sarah assumed an indifferent expression. “He won’t last beyond the first day. He’ll succumb to his cantankerous nature.”
“He hasn’t acted cantankerous this past fortnight. I do believe that having the wheeled chair has changed him for the better.”
Sarah didn’t agree. All too often, she’d skillfully parried the sword of his sarcasm. If he had grown more tolerant with others, it was only because he’d focused the full force of his resentment on her. She opened her mouth to say so when something astonishing happened.
William hopped out of the desk and onto James’s lap. The two of them rolled toward the doorway, James deftly turning the large, iron-shod wheels with his hands. He wore no coat and his shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbow, displaying the strong muscles of his forearms.
Alarmed, Sarah hastened across the study. “Where do you think you going?”
James shot her a look of supercilious amusement. “Calm down, Duchess. I’m merely taking Will for a ride up and down the corridor.”
Irrationally angered by their rapport, she curled her fingers into fists. “His name is William. And he is staying here with me.”
“Nonsense. He wants to help me test this contraption.” He glanced down at the boy clinging trustingly to his neck. “Don’t you, Your Grace?”
“I would, sir.” William lifted his hopeful gray eyes to her. “Please, Mama, may I?”
The ice in her melted a little. “Well … if you hold on tightly … and promise to be very careful—”
“A little less mollycoddling, if you please,” James broke in.
The impertinence of him, Sarah fumed, to criticize her maternal concern. But before she could retort,