Duel of Hearts by Elizabeth Mansfield

Author:Elizabeth Mansfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497697676
Publisher: Open Road Media

Chapter Twelve

LADY STANBOROUGH HAD looked forward to attending the Maitlands’ ball, but by the time evening approached she’d almost changed her mind. She’d developed a slight case of the sniffles, and the late-October weather had turned unpleasant. Although ordinarily she would have loved to attend what promised to be one of the greatest crushes of the season (for George and Henrietta Maitland were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary in high style), Laurelia was on the verge of deciding that she would be wise to miss the event. “I might contract an inflammation of the chest, and then where would we be?” she asked her daughter plaintively, pulling her bedclothes up of her neck. She had taken to her bed at the first sneeze and had sent for Sarah at once.

Sarah studied her mother worriedly. A crucial corner-stone of her plan for the evening was her mother’s attendance at the ball. “You don’t look ill, Mama,” she said comfortingly. “Are you certain you shouldn’t go? I was counting on you.”

“Counting on me? For what purpose?” her mother asked, confused.

“I can’t explain it to you now. But it’s terribly important for you to take Corianne to the ball tonight.”

“But why? We can ask Mr. Middleton to escort her. I’m certain that he’d have no objection—”

“That’s just it, Mama. He’s coming here … to … er … to see me,” Sarah said, unable to keep from blushing.

Laurelia Stanborough blinked at her daughter in considerable surprise. “What? Again? Didn’t you ride with him this very afternoon?”

Sarah merely nodded.

Her mother’s expression changed as she gazed at Sarah with slow-dawning delight. “Oh, my dearest girl! Oh, my own darling!” She sat up in bed and threw the covers off. “Do you mean—? Are you … at last—?” And she pressed her hands to her breasts in joy.

Sarah urged her to lie back against the pillows. “Now, Mama, please! Don’t refine on this—”

“Not refine on it?” Lady Stanborough demanded, pushing Sarah’s hands aside and jumping out of bed. “What else can it mean when you want us out of the house so that you can talk to Mr. Middleton alone? Oh, Sarah, how wonderful that he can be asking … so quickly…!”

Sarah put a weary hand to her forehead. “No, no, Mama, you mustn’t think…! It’s not that, really! I’ll explain it all to you one day,” she said urgently, trying to restrain her mother’s transports.

But Lady Stanborough would not be restrained. “Oh, my dear!” she sighed, embracing her daughter, misty-eyed. “The Squire! Such an impressive man! Not as rich as North, of course … and no titles, which is really too bad. But I understand his lands are extensive! And everyone agrees that he’s so pleasant and clever … and attractive, too! Oh, Sarah!” Moved almost to tears, she sniffed into the large handkerchief which she had already in hand. “I’m so h-h-happy!”

Sarah sighed in discouragement. “Mama, you are jumping to the most unwarranted conclusions,” she insisted, but she knew she spoke to no purpose. Here

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