A Worthy Gentleman. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
made up his mind that he would talk to her that evening—but by then they had taken her lifeless body from the river.
Was it his fault? John had told himself that he had done nothing to harm Andrea, and yet his conscience would not let him rest. Had he made Andrea so unhappy that she had taken her own life? It was a hard cross to bear, and the reason why he had begun to wonder if he actually had placed those items amongst his things. Was he trying to punish himself without knowing he did so?
No, this was ridiculous! John shook his head. There must be another reason for what had happened, something that ought to be apparent but was not. He had no reason to torture himself in this way. Andrea had known he did not love her when they married. Surely she must have known? But she had not understood that his heart was irrevocably given to another woman.
He had tried to forget Sarah. He had believed that she would never return to England, and for months he had succeeded in dulling the sense of loss that lived with him. Now, seeing her, being close to her, the scent of her perfume teasing his senses, he knew that he had never ceased to think of her. Staying here in this house was exquisite torture, making him achingly aware of a need within himself. Yet how could he ask her to marry him?
John knew that Andrea’s death had set off some whispering. People had wondered why a young woman delivered of a fine son would take her own life…no one had said it to his face, but John believed that some suspected that she might not have gone willingly into the river.
He had no idea who had begun the rumours, but they had been brought to his attention a few weeks earlier by Andrea’s father.
‘I know it is all nonsense,’ Sir Andrew said when he rode over that morning to show John the letter he had received. ‘Had there been any truth in this wretched insinuation, this would surely have been signed. It is a damned lie and I do not believe it for a moment, but I thought you should see it.’
John had read the accusation, his lips white with anger. He handed the letter back to his father-in-law. ‘I swear to you that there is no truth in this, sir. Andrea was a little unwell after the birth of…our son, that is all.’
‘No, no, John, let us be straight with one another,’ Sir Andrew said. ‘We both know that the child was not yours. Andrea told me the truth after she had spoken to you. She wanted me to know that you had not shamed her.’
‘I never knew that,’ John said. ‘She need not have told you. I promised her that no one would hear of it from my lips—and, as far as I am concerned, the boy is mine.’
‘You are a good man,’ Sir Andrew said, ‘and that is why I know this is a lie. I shall destroy the letter, but it may not be the end of it, John.’
And it had not ended there. John had received a vicious letter himself a few days before he left home for this visit. The writer said that he or she knew the truth and that John would pay the price of his evil. It was again unsigned and John had destroyed it at once, but the shadow had lingered. Sir Andrew had refused to believe him capable of murder—but others might not be so convinced of his innocence.
John knew that he could not think of marriage while such a shadow hung over him. He shivered, feeling the chill creep down his spine. If he married again so soon, the rumours would increase and might be difficult to disprove. How could he marry anyone until he could clear his name of any wrongdoing?
Indeed, if Sarah heard the spiteful whispers, she might wonder if there was some truth in them. She would certainly not wish to be the wife of a man who might be accused of murdering his first wife. He must put all thought of it from his mind!
Sarah spent the rest of the morning being fitted for a new walking gown and two afternoon dresses. Although Mrs Hunter intended to order several new gowns in town, she thought highly enough of her daughter-in-law’s seamstress to trust her with a part of Sarah’s new wardrobe.
Her mother’s fussing over details enabled Sarah to put the incident with John out of her mind. She was aware that she might have revealed her feelings too plainly, but when they met again before dinner, he greeted her as always with his gentle smile. He was sitting opposite her this time, for Daniel had taken her into dinner and she felt some relief that she was not obliged to make polite conversation with John.
‘How do you like being back in England?’ Daniel asked. ‘Do you find it very different, Miss Hunter?’
‘Yes, it is different,’ Sarah agreed. ‘But I am very happy here, sir. And of course we go to London in almost three weeks.’
‘Ah, yes, you will be thrust into the social whirl,’ he said, smiling at her kindly. ‘Elizabeth tells me you share her interest in books. I warn you that she will expect you to attend all her afternoon meetings. You must say if you have other engagements. My wife likes to manage us all.’
The smile and the wicked look in his eyes were enough to tell Sarah that he was amused and there was no malice in his words. He was clearly very much in love with Elizabeth, and Sarah felt a pang of envy as she saw the way they looked at each other. If only she could find that sort of love!
Glancing across the table, she discovered that John was watching her. He looked serious, although he smiled and inclined his head as their eyes met. Sarah sensed that he was concerned about something, and wondered at the signs of tiredness in his face. John was always gentle, unfailingly kind and caring, and yet there was something about him that inspired confidence. She knew that he was to be relied upon in a crisis and she sensed an inner strength that was perhaps not immediately obvious to a casual onlooker.
He must still be grieving for his wife, of course. It was only a year since Andrea Elworthy had died. No doubt he had loved her very much and could not be expected to think of marrying again just yet.
John had turned to Elizabeth, who was sitting to his left. They were laughing at something now and Sarah wished that she might feel the ease of an old friendship such as they obviously shared. John had been her friend once. He had cared for her, but she had walked away from him and he’d fallen in love with Andrea.
Why did that hurt so much? Sarah knew that she had only herself to blame. With a little encouragement John would have asked her to marry him more than two years previously—but that was then and things had changed.
Sarah realised that, since learning of his wife’s death, she had been secretly wishing that he might turn to her, might ask her to marry him. His behaviour in the rose arbour that morning had destroyed her dreams. John was not ready to marry again just yet.
Would he ever be? Sarah frowned at her own thoughts. She would be foolish to hope for something that might never happen. Had John felt anything for her, he would surely not have answered her as he had. By telling her that she would meet a gentleman with a whole heart, who would love her, he could not have been clearer.
John was still in love with his late wife. Sarah must not embarrass him by showing her feelings for him. In future she would take great care not to be alone with him.
Sarah’s ordeal lasted for just two days more. On the morning of the third day, Arabella told her that John was leaving them.
‘He has some business that will not wait,’ Arabella said. ‘I am sorry he cannot stay longer, but he seems anxious to keep his appointment and I am afraid we must allow him to go, Sarah.’
Sarah was torn between regret and relief. It would be easier when she did not have to meet John at every meal, but a part of her wanted him to stay. She knew that he was grieving, but sometimes when they spoke she felt that something flowed between them.
She was sitting in the downstairs parlour when John came to take his leave of Arabella. Looking up, Sarah’s heart jerked as she saw how elegant he looked in his buckskin breeches and a blue coat that fitted him to perfection. He was of a slighter build than either Charles or Daniel, but Sarah thought him the most attractive of any gentleman she had met thus far. More than that, she felt a warmth inside every time he smiled at her.
‘Are you sure your business will not wait?’ Arabella asked as he said his farewells. ‘We had hoped