Chapter Two

It had been three days since the Earl’s passing, and Sarah sat beside her mother in the coach as it pulled up in front of the Colevilles’ townhouse. It was expected that they would confer their condolences, but she was tense with apprehension. It wasn’t because she dreaded offering comfort to the man her father planned to betroth her to, because she got along well with Andrew. They were good friends, and she would be happy to help him through his time of grieving. It was strictly the idea of seeing his older brother that worried her.

Of course, she hadn’t known he was the heir apparent, and now the current Earl of Collingsford, when he’d taken such liberties on the patio. She had been as shocked as the rest of the Ton to hear his name, though she had not known him previously. She had still been at the country estate in the schoolroom when he had departed the Ton abruptly. There had been multiple rumors to explain his absence, but it had been before her time, so she’d only been vaguely aware that Andrew had an older brother who had enlisted abruptly.

She knew, however, that she shouldn’t have responded the way she did to the older brother of the man she planned to marry. Andrew was a gentle soul, and he easily made her laugh. She enjoyed the time she spent with him, but they shared no great passion. She hadn’t ever expected to share a great passion with anyone, especially since she was about to become engaged. Once the contracts were signed, it was a matter of weeks as the banns were called, and then she would be married to Andrew. A woman within a month of marriage should not be drawn to the older brother of her prospective fiancé.

She couldn’t deny he had left her heart aflutter, all while filling her with confusion. Why did he make her react so strongly? How had he gotten her to allow his breaches in protocol without storming away at the very first? Why wouldn’t his face leave her thoughts for more than a few minutes?

They were questions to which she had no answer, but she was still dwelling on them almost obsessively as she followed her mother into the Coleville’s townhouse, led by the maid who had opened the door. The young woman took them to the drawing room before departing, and she held her breath as she entered.

Sarah let out a harsh exhalation when she initially saw only Andrew waiting. It wasn’t until Eric stepped out from the corner, where he’d been standing in what appeared to be a brooding fashion, that she realized he was there.

His gaze moved over her, feeling as though he had devoured her. It left her feeling oddly vulnerable and exposed, as though she had shed her chemise and stepped out into a cold brisk morning to allow snow to lash at her. There was also an inexplicable underlying heat that curled in her belly and moved upward, filling her chest and making it difficult to breathe.

She nodded at him and looked away abruptly, trying to avoid his gaze, though his eyes seem to demand that she look at him. She mostly managed to avoid doing so, for the first few minutes of the visit she deliberately sat on the settee beside Andrew, though they left a proper distance between them.

Under her mother’s watchful eye, she reached out and put a hand on his in a soothing fashion before quickly withdrawing. Even that was pushing the bounds of propriety. “I am sorry for your loss. If there is anything my family can do to ease his passing, please say so.”

Amelia nodded her approval. “Yes, Mr. Coleville, please let us know.”

Eric cleared his throat. “You may call him Lord, Lady Crenshaw. Now that I have taken over the Earl of Collingsford title, I plan to bestow Earl of Noblesse on Andrew.”

Amelia nodded, and though she looked slightly puzzled by the irregular action, she was clearly too well-bred to question it. Sarah reminded herself she was as well and forced back the question. The younger son usually carried no title at all, not even one of his father’s lesser titles as a courtesy. It was unusual, but admirable, for Eric to bestow the honor on his younger brother.

Andrew was pale, and it was obvious he was still struggling with his father’s passing. “I appreciate your visit, ladies, but there is little anyone can do at the moment. His funeral will be the day after tomorrow, and we shall be in mourning for a while.” He didn’t look at Sarah when he spoke to her mother. “Please relay to Lord Crenshaw that our talks will resume in a couple of weeks.”

As her mother nodded, Sarah was surprised at the emotion filling her—relief. She had been given a short stay in the time before she officially became Andrew’s fiancée. It was a puzzling reaction, because she had been optimistic about their future. She had hope that someday she would grow to love Andrew in a deep and compelling fashion but had been practical as well. Theirs would be a sound and smart match. They got along well and had much in common, so she should have been impatient, or at worst apathetic, about the delay.

Eric’s gaze drew hers, and she found herself incapable of denying the compulsion to meet it. He had warm brown eyes fringed by reddish-brown lashes that were a few shades lighter than his darker hair, shot through with strands of auburn. His gaze was intense, and she was unprepared to try to read his thoughts. All she knew was she was certain he wanted her, and she was unsettled by the realization that she wanted him too. That was why she was relieved at the postponement of the formal announcement of the engagement.

It made no sense, because they simply couldn’t be together. She was practically promised to Andrew, and now that Eric was the Earl, with a substantial inheritance to his name, he would have his choice of ladies above her station. He would certainly be able to choose the daughter of a fellow earl, and perhaps even one of a duke, if the Coleville coffers were as plump as rumored to be.

She’d paid little attention to the speculation when she had heard her father and mother discussing Andrew’s inheritance in an indiscreet moment. She still didn’t care now, except it was another obstacle between herself and Eric. As far as obstacles went, it was one of the lesser ones, and certainly of little concern. She couldn’t be with him, and she wasn’t even certain why she wanted to be. She barely knew him, but she couldn’t deny something about the Earl drew her to him.

She and her mother left a few minutes later, not exceeding the fifteen-minute window they had been unofficially allotted. There were others waiting to offer their condolences, and without a formal announcement in place, the Brightons had no greater claim to Andrew’s time than anyone else.

Like the gentleman that he was, Andrew offered his arm to Amelia to escort her out. That left Sarah trailing behind, and she reluctantly accepted the arm Eric extended. When their arms touched, it sent a flare of heat sparking through her that was ridiculous, considering they were both wearing gloves, and his sleeve offered a barrier between their skin. If this touch was that dramatic, how would it be if she dared slip off her glove, and he slipped off the black one he wore, and they enfolded their palms together, twined their fingers, and touched in a most inappropriate fashion?

“Save a spot on your dance card for me at the next event, Miss Sarah.”

She barely nodded to acknowledge his words before stepping away from him in the foyer to join her mother. They said their goodbyes, and it was all very polite, but there was still a current of awareness between her and Eric that seemed to tether her to him even after they had departed the townhouse, and she was long out of his sight. What was the Earl doing to her equilibrium?