Page 7 of A Wish Upon an Earl (A Maypole in Mayfair #3)

S arah stared out the window of her bedroom at the bright sunlight streaming in.

It was the perfect day for the nature walk and yard games she’d planned on the schedule for the house party.

Early this morning, her friends had trooped into her room, taking notes on all that she had planned and all that still had to be done.

Her soon-to-be sister-in-law Camilla had a scientific mind, and she’d taken to the task of creating groups of partygoers with an analytical precision that had put Sarah at ease.

Ash would not suffer too much for her injury.

After her relief, however, a new thought had occurred to her.

What would her role be after her brother wed?

Supporting Ash had been her mission over the last year. She sighed as she settled back on the pillows, wishing she could get out of this bed.

She’d been angry at Jack last night because she’d worried that the party had been compromised.

And because of their history, of course.

But the party was going on without her. And the past…

perhaps it was time to let that go. She wasn’t an insecure girl any longer.

And though she doubted they’d ever be close again, she could likely progress to the point of looking the man in the eye and giving a pleasant greeting when they happened to cross paths.

A knock sounded at the door and then a maid entered her chambers. “My lady,” Rebecca said with a curtsy. “Lord Bentley has requested an audience.”

Jack. She tried not to groan. Or gasp. Because a little thrill did run down her spine at the idea of seeing him again. What had happened to distantly polite? “An audience? Where? Here?” she asked.

“I’ve obtained permission from your brother,” a voice called from the hallway. “Rebecca and I will help you into the sitting room.”

The sitting room? Down the hall? Was she to hobble all the way there? Rebecca helped her from the bed and then used her shoulder to support Sarah’s weight as she slowly made her way to the door.

She had dressed this morning, a simple pale green gown that was both comfortable and practical, but looking down, she had a twinge of regret. She hadn’t expected to see anyone, least of all her knight.

Her eyes fluttered closed. He wasn’t hers. Far from it. They were barely friends. Acquaintances who tolerated each other at best.

But the moment Rebecca opened the door wider, Sarah gasped out loud. Jack stood behind a wheeled chair of sorts. “What is that?” she asked, pointing at the contraption.

He looked down. “I had to see both the blacksmith and the carriage maker, but they were able to take a chair and fashion it with wheels so that we might be able to move you more easily about the house. I know it’s not perfect, but I hoped to help.”

She softened at that. It couldn’t be past ten in the morning and he’d already had this fashioned. How had he managed it? And why did her heart soften so much at the idea that he’d gone to all the trouble? “What time did you start on this?”

“I can’t remember.” He winked at her as he took her hands and helped her into the seat.

The two wheels in the back were quite large and made of metal and wood. “Are those wagon wheels?” she asked, looking back. “This thing must weigh more than a man.”

“It doesn’t,” he chuckled. “In fact, it weighs less than that ridiculous suit of armor I had on last night.”

Sarah looked back at him as he began to push her down the hall, Rebecca following. “Thank you for this. It’s nice to leave my room.”

“You’re most welcome,” he answered. “I’m glad I could help.”

She twisted her hands together as they arrived at the sitting room, and Rebecca came around them to open the double doors. She’d been angry at Jack for so long, she didn’t know quite what to say now.

He helped her from the chair, settling her onto a settee that stretched out, a high back at one end. It allowed her to sit with her foot still elevated. Perhaps she’d have the piece moved to her room until she’d recovered. She felt less like an invalid when not in bed.

He gently lifted her legs, his hands large and warm. Sarah ignored the way her pulse quickened at his touch as he settled her onto the seat, laying a pillow under her injured foot.

He sat across from her. “I’d like to begin by apologizing for last night. I?—”

Sarah waved her hand. “Accidents happen.”

He leaned forward, giving her a long stare. “May I confess that I’ve missed your considerate nature?”

A lump rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “Thank you for that.” Her gaze cast down at the intensity in his warm brown eyes. He likely didn’t miss her flare for the dramatic. She didn’t either—most of the time anyhow. Well, sometimes. But her life was better without it.

“But I should have practiced in the armor. I never imagined it would be so difficult to move.” He scrubbed the back of his neck.

“Does anyone know it was you?” she asked, realizing that he may be in for even more embarrassment than she’d suffered all those years ago. Her heart twinged. She knew all too well what that felt like.

“I’m not certain,” he answered with a shrug. “My family's coat of arms was all over the suit, but they’re not commonly used, so it’s possible no one recognized it.”

She gave a nod. “Anything I can do?”

He looked up at her again. “Sarah.” The way he said her name pulled at her insides. “I don’t deserve that sort of kindness from you.”

“You’re Ash’s friend,” she answered, ignoring the other thoughts in her head that said he’d been her friend too. That he still made her pulse race with his mere presence.

He nodded. “I don’t think you can help me. But I am missing a piece. A gauntlet. If the staff finds it, would you see that it’s sent to me?”

“Of course,” she answered, her brow furrowing. “But where could it have gone? It couldn’t have just blown away in the breeze.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s curious for certain. But we’ve more important items to discuss.”

“Such as?” Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked everywhere but at him.

Ash had warned her where this conversation was headed.

He wanted to apologize. Yet now that they were here, she wasn’t certain she wished for him to say sorry.

When he did, they’d somehow have to acknowledge a well of feelings she’d been attempting to ignore.

“Such as what I did to you five years ago,” he answered, and then he stood, closing the distance between them. He crouched in front of her until she had no choice but to look at him. “I owe you an apology, Sarah.”

“You’ve just apologized.”

“I apologized for yesterday.” He took her hand in his. “But I owe you an apology from before. You were attempting to share your feelings with me, and I was cruel and callous to you.”

To her complete shock and annoyance, tears misted her eyes.

This was why she’d not wished to hear his apology.

She’d have to acknowledge that his rejection still hurt.

She glanced back down at her lap, not wanting him to see her tears.

“It was years ago,” she answered automatically.

But in her heart, she still ached. He’d crushed her girlish dreams. “I was young and foolish, and I must have irritated you terribly.”

“You were like family to me,” he said, lacing his fingers in hers. “And I loved you like a sister. I should have protected you.”

A sister…

She sighed. That was the heart of their trouble.

She’d never thought of him as a brother.

Her gaze flicked to his and then she looked away again.

He was so handsome, and she…well…she was just Sarah.

“If you considered me a sister then why allow them to make fun of me as you did? Walter Fullerton teased me for two full years.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Sarah, look at me.”

Slowly, she raised her gaze to his.

* * *

Walter Fullerton was a horse’s rear.

That was Jack’s official opinion of the man.

But at the age of eighteen, he’d considered Walter far superior to his other friends. Even Ash. Walter had a swagger about him and a willingness to cut others in a way that made him more interesting. It had taken Jack a while to understand that Walter built himself up by pushing other people down.

He hated the reminder of Walter’s laughter, his remarks to Sarah. Why had Jack allowed it?

Now, looking into Sarah’s tear-rimmed eyes, he wished he could turn back the clocks and live that day over.

He’d have told Walter to take a swim in the Thames. And then he’d have gone after Sarah and…what?

Told her he was sorry for starters.

Begged forgiveness for his callousness.

And asked her to… He closed his eyes. He’d have asked her to put her feelings on hold. Wait until they were both older and wiser.

Because as he looked at her now, he realized several things. She was everything he’d ever wanted. Beautiful, kind, warm…and he’d pushed her away himself.

He looked into her moss-green eyes, which were now brimming with tears, and words crowded his mouth. Her pale skin had a brush of freckles just across her nose. He’d like to count them, kissing each one as he went. Because Drew, who didn’t know him at all, had been right.

He wished to court her.

Stupid man that he was, he hadn’t realized until he was in front of her that the reason he’d not been able to entertain another woman as a bride was because his affection had always been Sarah’s.

How had he not understood that until now? And why had he let the chasm between them grow so wide?

A single tear managed to spill over her eyelashes. He reached up and brushed it from her cheek. The pad of his thumb skimmed her velvet flesh, making his chest tight.

Rebecca cleared her throat.

Jack eased back. “It doesn’t excuse what I did, but I need you to know that my family didn’t love like yours. I didn’t understand?—”

He felt her tense, her hand clutching his tighter. “Your family didn’t love at all.”

“You remember?” He wanted to keep touching her, but he released her hand. The fact that she understood his past meant more than he could say.

“I remember,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “It was only after I hurt you that I realized how I’d erred. How I’d behaved like them. Their cruelty is so casual and yet often so deliberate.” He looked at her. “I know this is of no consolation to you, but that day taught me about the man I wanted to be.”

Her eyes widened as she tried to sit up straighter. “Really?”

His fingers itched to cup her cheek. “Most assuredly.” He shook his head. “I can’t say that I’m very good at being kind yet. Not like you and Ash, but I’m trying. That armor last night. I wore it because—” He ran a hand through his hair. “Because I thought you would like it.”

Her hand trembled as she lightly touched his arm. “That is kind.” Then she withdrew her hand, looking away. “Thank you.”

“I don’t blame you for not liking my choice of costume. Not after what I did last night.”

“It’s not that,” Sarah said as she looked back at him. Then she sighed. “I changed after that night too.”

He stood then, one of his hands clenching at his side. He’d noted changes in her. Her emphasis on responsibility. He said a silent prayer that he wasn’t responsible for her tamping down on her effervescent nature. Because if he had been… “How?”

She looked at him, a small smile playing at her lips. “I now cringe every time I see a painting with a cupid.”

His chest relaxed, but he knew she was once again being excessively kind. “I made you doubt yourself.”

She shook her head. “It was bound to happen. If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.”

His mouth opened and closed several times.

How had he ever allowed her to leave his life?

And how was he going to help her find her old self?

He loved that pixie spirit, and he’d been responsible for crushing it.

“I think I’d prefer it if you took a good swing right at my face. Your kindness might be killing me.”

That made her smile. “I couldn’t.”

“When you’re better, let’s reenact a play where the heroine gives the hero a good smack. Then you can rehearse over and over until you’ve worked out all your anger.”

That made her laugh, long and loud, until she let out a squeak and grasped at her ankle.

“Did you hurt yourself?” He immediately dropped back down, ready to check her ankle.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “It was just a twinge of pain. Nothing more. And it was worth it. The very idea of that sort of play is the best kind of medicine.”

“Sarah.” There was so much more he wanted to say.

She should want to hit him, and laughter should not be enough of a cure for how he’d hurt her.

Part of him wanted to pour out his heart.

But Drew’s words came back to him. Find out what she wants.

It wasn’t time for him to profess his feelings.

Right now, he needed to learn about her.

What were her needs and desires, and could he give them to her?

So instead, he stood back up. What they needed was time to get to know one another again. “I’d like to try to be friends. Do you think that’s possible?”