'Tis the Season for Lady Sarah - Maggie Dallen Page 0,42

would celebrate their first Christmastide together.

She held the small box in her hand, the one she’d hastily pulled together. A homemade gift because she had no other, and a beautiful red ribbon to tie the wooden box closed.

It wasn’t much, but it was a gift from the heart.

Muffled footsteps started down the hall and Sarah turned, anticipation making her bounce on the balls of her feet.

Yet it wasn’t Theo who approached, but her brother.

Max chuckled as he saw her. “I don’t suppose that’s a gift for me, is it?”

Sarah arched her brows. “Shouldn’t you be off with your bride?”

“Yes,” he said, stopping just in front of her as the smile slipped from his face. “I should. But first…” He reached for one of her hands, giving her gloved fingers a light squeeze. “There is something I need to say to you.”

“What?” she asked, concern drawing her brows together.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his shoulders dropping. “Theo was right yesterday. I’ve treated you like the girl you were before I left, not the woman you’ve become. Being gone for so long, I find I’ve had a difficult time adjusting to—”

“Stop.” She stepped closer and placed a small peck on her brother’s cheek. “No need to say more. Apology accepted.” Then she gave him a twinkling grin. “Your meddling, overall, has been a boon. Thanks to you…” Heat filled her cheeks as she thought of Theo. “Mother is going to have another wedding to plan.”

He chuckled at that. “Lord save us all.”

“Now go,” she said as she let his hand fall from hers. “Go be with your wife.”

He gave her a large, lopsided grin that nearly made Sarah burst out laughing. But she managed to hold it in as her brother disappeared down the hall.

She shook her head, certain she’d be just as excited on her own wedding night.

But a sound caught her ear. Was someone else laughing? Or were they crying?

Looking out onto the terrace, she caught sight of a lone figure, her head bent and her shoulders bobbing up and down. Miss Rathmore?

Without hesitation, she opened the doors and slid out into the cold night. She and Theo had planned to slip outside so her wool gown staved off the cold air as she stepped alongside the other woman. “Are you all right?”

Miss Rathmore’s head snapped up. “I beg your pardon?” But the last word broke on a hiccup of air.

“I understand,” Sarah softly replied. “Perhaps better than anyone, I understand.” Stallworth’s bride-to-be had every right to cry. The man had attempted to rekindle his relationship with Sarah right under his bride-to-be’s nose.

Miss Rathmore’s eyes widened, but then with another sob she rested her head on Sarah’s shoulder and began to have a good long cry.

When she’d finally spent all her tears, she lifted her head. “I’m so sorry. I don’t normally cry like this. It’s just that...”

“You can tell me,” Sarah prompted when the other woman’s voice trailed off.

“It’s just that, no matter how I try, I can’t seem to think of a way to get out of my marriage with Mr. Stallworth.”

Sarah winced. “You want to then?”

Miss Rathmore nodded her gaze casting to the side. “When we first met you, may I confess that I thought you might be my savior and take him off my hands?”

Sarah choked back her surprise. “But if that had happened, you’d be ruined for sure.”

“I don’t care,” Miss Rathmore straightened. “Being a spinster would be far preferable to Mrs. Stallworth.”

“Why not just end it?” Sarah asked.

Miss Rathmore let out a long sigh. “Because my father won’t allow it. I’ve tried to explain to him that it was all a misunderstanding. But he’s insisted upon the match to save my reputation and so I am bound…” The other woman shook her head. “It’s hopeless.”

“You can’t say that,” Sarah said, giving the other woman’s shoulders a squeeze. “There has to be a way. I’ll help you. We’ll come up with something.”

Miss Rathmore straightened. “I could never ask that of you. It’s too much and—”

“Miss Rathmore,” Theo called from the doorway. “You will find that Sarah’s ability for kindness is nearly limitless.”

Sarah grinned, her heart soaring at the sight of the man she loved. “Thank you, my lord.”

He winked, walking out to join them. “After the holidays, I believe we shall all journey to London. May I recommend that you and your brother join us as our personal guests? That should give us plenty of time to come up with a solution.”

Miss Rathmore clasped her hands

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