The Heiress He's Been Waiting For Read online

  Mara was her dearest friend in the world. Oh, to be sure, Sara had many friends in New York, but only two dear friends. There was Jennie Goodenough, who lived just across the street from her in Manhattan and was probably her closest confidante. And there was also Amanda Ellsworth. Sara spent most of last summer at Amanda’s family’s grand house in Newport, consoling her friend because her fiancé had callously broken off their engagement. But Jennie and Amanda would never be as close to her as Mara was. Mara was family.

  “Of course it’s romantic, Sara! You’ve been whisked away by your parents and he has to come to find you!” Mara gave a wistful little sigh.

  Frowning, Sara continued, “But it’s only romantic if he receives my letter and rescues me. Otherwise it’s just terribly tragic.”

  “Oh, he will come for you. If he loves you as you say he does, he’ll come.” Mara nodded in support of her dearest friend.

  “He simply has to come for me. He just has to. I don’t know what I shall do if he doesn’t.” Sara bit her lip, worrying.

  It was difficult to imagine just what Alexander Drake was thinking at this moment. He had declared his love for her, so of course he must miss her and long to be with her as desperately as she longed to be with him. He must realize she was taken away against her will. If only she didn’t have to wait so long! Her letter couldn’t even be posted until tomorrow.

  She didn’t know how long she could contain herself. But she must remain calm. She mustn’t arouse any suspicion. There was no doubt in her mind that her parents would lock her in this very room if they suspected that Alexander Drake was coming to London to see her.

  “You won’t forget to post it, will you?” Sara asked, gesturing to the letter she had given her cousin.

  “I promise,” Mara agreed with the utmost solemnity, holding the sealed envelope in her hands. “I shall take care of it first thing in the morning.” She tucked the letter safely into her reticule.

  “Thank you so much!” Sara gave her cousin a grateful hug. “Now, Mara, you must tell me . . . What has been happening with you? I’ve done all the talking this evening. Your last letter said you were bored and wished to spend more time in Ireland, perhaps in the bookshop?”

  All of Sara’s aunts managed the family’s business. Hamilton’s Book Shoppe was the original store opened by her grandfather, Thomas Hamilton. Under the care and direction of her aunts Colette and Paulette, the shop had done so well they had opened a second store, the Hamilton Sisters’ Book Shoppe. Aunt Paulette, Mara’s stepmother, even opened a Hamilton shop in Ireland as well.

  Sara’s mother, Juliette, had never cared much for books and had gone to live in America instead. Sara often wondered what it would have been like to grow up living above a little bookshop in London with a bunch of sisters with her all the time. It seemed rather quaint and charming, compared to her own upbringing as an only child traveling the world with her parents. Sara could barely imagine living such a sedate life herself, and simply could not picture her mother living that kind of quiet life at all.

  But Sara did love Hamilton’s Book Shoppe and took great pride in her aunts’ accomplishments. It was a rare thing indeed for women to own and operate their own businesses and do it so successfully! Sara always made a point to visit at least one of the shops when she was in London. Her favorite was the Hamilton Sisters’ Book Shoppe, the store where she met Mara for the very first time when they were little girls. They had become instant friends that day.

  “I’m afraid I have nothing half so interesting to tell you . . .” Mara shook her head of soft blond curls.

  “Oh, there must be something interesting!” Sara responded with a note of hope in her voice. “Surely there is a handsome young man you’re pining over?”

  “No, there isn’t.”

  “You’ve already had your coming-out, so you must have had scores of offers . . .”

  “No offers,” Mara said quietly.

  “That’s ridiculous!” Sara refused to believe it. “How is such a thing even possible? You are beautiful and sweet and smart. Any man would fall in love with you in an instant. You’re every man’s type, blond and petite! Not to mention that you’re Lady Mara Reeves, the daughter of the Earl of Cashelmore!”

  Mara sighed heavily. “There simply wasn’t anyone . . . I never met anyone who seemed special enough to me. Yes, there were gentlemen who expressed some interest in me. They were all nice enough, of course, but just . . . I don’t know, Sara . . . They were rather ordinary.” Mara’s voice had a hint of sadness.

  “Ah, yes, that I can understand.” Sara nodded sympathetically. “To fall in love a girl has to meet someone extraordinary. Back in New York I had dozens of men declaring their love for me, but when I first met Alexander, I simply knew. I just took one look into his gorgeous green eyes and I knew he was special. In an instant I realized that he was the man I would be with for the rest of my life and that he felt the very same way about me. There we were, in the middle of Central Park surrounded by dozens of people, and we could only stare at each other. He looked so handsome too, with his golden hair and boyish smile. I could barely breathe! Oh, but listen to me going on and on about myself again! Forgive me?”

  Mara giggled as if they were little girls again. “You always talked more than enough for both of us.”

  “That is true!” Sara had to smile at the honesty in her cousin’s words and her reference to the time years ago when Mara didn’t speak at all. Having opposite personalities was more than likely what drew the two girls together. Sara knew she could tell Mara anything and trusted her implicitly. Now Sara wanted only the best for her cousin. “But please don’t give up hope, Mara. That extraordinary man is out there for you. We just have to find him.”

  “I hope so.” Mara looked slightly doubtful, her delicate brows creased with worry. “I think my parents were a little disappointed that I didn’t find a husband last year, although they would never say so to me.”

  “Of course they wouldn’t! Your parents are wonderful and understanding and they love you. They are not like other parents who only wish to secure financial gains or social connections through their daughter’s marriage. I know Aunt Paulette and Uncle Declan well enough to know that they want only for you to be happy. They would never force you to wed someone you didn’t wish to marry.”

  “Oh, I never suggested they would do that to me!” Mara interjected, not wishing to cast aspersions on her parents. “My father has ever only wanted the best for me. I just think they wished I had received an offer. They worry about me and believe I will never marry, and perhaps I shan’t. But it saddens me to think that they are worried over my future.”

  Sara sat up and squeezed her cousin’s hand tightly in support. “Well, while I’m here, let’s make the best of the Season, shall we? Let’s attend all the parties and balls with Phillip and Simon, and this time I will be on the lookout for a special gentleman who will be the perfect match for my most beautiful cousin!”

  “Oh, Sara, your enthusiasm is almost contagious! How I’ve missed you!” Mara smiled gleefully. “But I don’t see how your presence will suddenly cause scores of extraordinary men to appear at Lady Abbott’s ball tomorrow evening and fall in love with me!”

  “True,” Sara admitted thoughtfully. “But at least you’ll have more fun here in London with me than if you were to go to Ireland for the summer as you had planned.”

  “Point taken,” Mara conceded a bit reluctantly. “We shall see what happens.” Then she added, “It truly is lovely to have you here, Sara. Today was the best surprise!”

  Sara grinned with happiness. “And here’s to Sara and Mara, together again!”

  3

  Adrift

  Christopher Townsend, the Earl of Bridgeton, wasn’t expecting to meet anyone that afternoon. Least of all someone like her. It was just a random moment. Unplanned. Unforeseen. And yet not unwelcome. In fact, deep down he felt the focus of his existence shift. Like a landslide. Or a tidal wave. Suddenly the
landscape of his world was entirely different the minute he met the beautiful American girl.

  It had started off as just an ordinary day. He had been out riding earlier that afternoon with his friend Phillip Sinclair, the Earl of Waverly, when they made an unplanned stop at Devon House, and Phillip’s mother had invited them to stay for tea. Lady Stancliff was a charming woman, and although the two young men had other plans for the afternoon, they’d been unable to refuse her gracious request to stay and join her. Besides, they were always hungry and the freshly made tea cakes were too delicious to pass up.

  Then Miss Sara Fleming entered the drawing room and had quite literally taken his breath away. She breezed in, self-assured and sophisticated, and looking more beautiful than any woman he could ever recall meeting, and then she recognized her cousin.

  A joyous smile lit her angelic face and it felt as if the sun had burst from the clouds. Her excited laughter and lilting voice washed over him and he suddenly couldn’t move. Or think. Or do anything but stare helplessly at the stunning young woman in front of him. Her flawless skin, perfectly turned nose, sparkling blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes, and silky black hair that framed her exquisitely heart-shaped face, all graced a petite and curvaceous little figure. That she was saucy and a bit impertinent only added to her charm. Perhaps it was the American influence in her, but she was like no other woman he had ever met.

  And just like that, Christopher Townsend, the Earl of Bridgeton, was escorting her to a ball the very next evening, along with her cousins. The Earl of Waverly, and his younger brother Lord Simon Sinclair, Lady Mara Reeves, and Sara Fleming were attending one of the largest balls of the Season together. They made a lively, young group. Although he wasn’t officially their escort, Christopher felt protective over both ladies.

  Lady Mara Reeves was a pretty little thing too, with her soft, blond hair, wide, luminous eyes, and lilting accent. But for Christopher, the quiet beauty of Mara Reeves was completely eclipsed by the very vibrancy of Sara Fleming’s incandescent beauty.

  “Isn’t that Edward Wickham over there?” Phillip asked him with a jovial grin, gesturing across the ballroom at an old school chum they both knew.

  “Yes, it is. We’d better head over and say hello to him,” Christopher said.

  As their small group meandered through Lady Abbott’s massive ballroom, filled with glittering candles, elegant tables laden with gourmet delicacies, and gorgeous floral arrangements, while costly and fashionably dressed noble and wealthy guests milled about, Christopher knew he should have been having an enjoyable evening. As a handsome, entitled young man of the nobility in the company of beautiful ladies, why wouldn’t he have a good time?

  Yet he only had one thought weighing heavily on his mind.

  The message he had received earlier from Griggs, his estate manager, left an icy cold knot in the pit of his stomach. Now he had no choice but to return to Bridgeton Hall in the morning.

  “Lord Bridgeton, you’re looking far too serious for such an event.”

  Startled, Christopher turned his attention to the beautiful young woman gazing up at him. His heart actually skipped a beat. It was ridiculous.

  “Yes, you are much too serious for an evening such as this.” Miss Fleming’s expression was somewhat puzzled.

  “I must apologize. I’m afraid you caught me woolgathering, Miss Fleming.” He gave her a smile. She was such a tiny thing. In a gown of palest blue that matched the exact color of her eyes, with her silky, dark hair and fair skin, she looked angelic, but she still couldn’t disguise the true passion in her nature. It was as if it just sizzled below the surface of her cool exterior. Perhaps that was what he found so intriguing about her?

  “There’s no need for an apology, Lord Bridgeton,” she said sweetly. “You just have a slight look of worry about you. I hope all is well.”

  Surprised by her astuteness, Christopher added that particular attribute to her physical appearance. She was totaling up quite nicely.

  The orchestra began playing a waltz and he held out his arm to her. “Would you care to dance with me, Miss Fleming?”

  “Oh yes, thank you. I love dancing and adore waltzes!” With graceful movements, Sara Fleming stepped lightly on her feet and followed him to the dance floor.

  An enchanting fragrance wafted around them as she moved and Christopher couldn’t place it. Something floral and light. He had no idea about such things. He only knew the scent would be forever etched in his mind as associated with Sara Fleming and this night.

  “Oh, this is one of my favorite waltzes.” She sighed happily as she spun in his arms.

  All the songs sounded the same to him, but her sheer delight in the music amused him. “I couldn’t tell one waltz from the next. What’s the name of it?”

  “Don’t you know?” She seemed amused when he shook his head. “It’s been around for ages. It’s called ‘Tout à vous.’ It means ‘yours very truly.’ Isn’t it lovely?”

  What was rather lovely was holding her in his arms. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss Fleming.”

  “How long have you known my cousin Phillip?” she asked, making polite conversation.

  “Oh, Waverly and I have been friends since we were at school together. And I’ve gotten to know his brother very well too over the years. The Sinclairs are both good men. I was aware they had a large extended family, but this is my first time meeting you and Lady Mara, of course.”

  She flashed him a flirtatious grin. “Disappointed?”

  “Quite the opposite, Miss Fleming.”

  Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she asked, “Do you live in London?”

  “I spend a lot of my time here, but also at Bridgeton Hall, my family estate in Sussex.”

  “I’m sure your home must be lovely.”

  “I’ve been told it’s quite nice.” Enjoying the feel of her in his arms, he asked, “Did you grow up in New York?”

  “Yes, mostly. And at our country house in New Jersey, where I was born,” she explained. “But I spent most of my life sailing around the world with my parents, aboard my father’s ship. We traveled everywhere when I was younger. China. Brazil. California. And of course, we made frequent visits to London to visit my cousins.”

  Impressed with her extraordinary upbringing, he asked, “And how long will we have the pleasure of your company in London this time?”

  “I’m not sure as yet. It’s up to my parents to decide.” She gave a little sigh.

  “I see,” he said. “That sounds a bit mysterious.”

  She smiled enigmatically, her eyes sparkling. “I suppose it is.”

  The girl had secrets of her own. Interesting. “So what is your life like in New York, Miss Fleming?” he asked.

  “I suspect it’s much like it is in London,” she explained as he twirled her around the floor. How elegant and graceful she was! “We do the same kinds of things in New York that you do here and have the same sort of entertainments. Parties, musicales, soirees, suppers, dancing, the theater.”

  “Which city do you prefer?”

  “Oh, New York, of course!” Her laughter floated around him like a song.

  “Why is that?” he asked. “If they’re the same, I mean. Large, bustling cities.”

  “It’s the people who are different,” she explained with the utmost sincerity. “It’s the people who matter. Although I do love my many aunts, uncles, and cousins dearly, all my close friends are back in New York. The people I love are there. And I miss them. All of them.” A shadow crossed her pretty face. “Quite a lot.”

  Christopher noted her expression carefully. She clearly missed more than just her friends. “Any one person in particular?”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “Of course.”

  His heart thudded in his chest at the look in her eyes. The man who held this woman’s heart was a lucky man indeed. And if he were that man, he certainly wouldn’t have allowed a beautiful woman like Sara Fleming to cross the ocean without him by her side
. Why was she in London and not in New York with this man?

  “I’m sure he misses you terribly,” he said quietly.

  Sara suddenly lost her footing and stumbled but Christopher caught her before she fell, steadying her with his arms. For the briefest instant he held her so closely he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. It passed too quickly, and he almost wondered if it happened at all.

  Sara responded to his remark by flashing a mischievous smile. “I’m sure he does.”

  As the dance ended, Christopher pondered her rather flirtatious answer. Neither moved from their place on the dance floor. They remained motionless and he still held her in his arms. There was something very special about this girl and he couldn’t for the life of him explain what it was or why he felt this way.

  He’d danced with dozens of beautiful ladies before. None of them had left him feeling so off-kilter. So unsure of himself. Was it because she was American? Was that what made her seem so different? So exceptional? Was it her unusual upbringing? Or her incredible self-confidence?

  He’d certainly had his fair share of attractive women. Christopher Townsend wasn’t some rube from the country. He was an earl, for crying out loud, and a very handsome one at that. Beautiful women fell over themselves to be with him. In fact they fell right into his bed. And quite often.

  Suddenly the image of Sara Fleming naked in his bed, smiling playfully and giving him one of her seductive sideways glances while tangled in the sheets, flashed through his mind. He couldn’t quite breathe.

  “And what about you, Lord Bridgeton?”

  “Me?” he asked, startled from his illicit thoughts by her question.

  “You asked me, so it’s only fair that I get to ask you,” she pointed out, her eyes twinkling. “Is there any one lady in particular for you?”

  He stared down into her light blue eyes. How easily he could drown in those eyes! As for her question . . . If only there was someone in particular for him. A woman he cared for. A woman who meant something to him. Another image suddenly flashed in his head. Of a beautiful blue-eyed wife holding a child in her arms. He shook himself from the startling reverie.