"Your tales always raise more questions than they answer," she commented, her eyes twinkling. "But even if your prince is a savage with gold earrings and a dagger thrust through his beard, I will be glad to receive him because of what he did for you."
"I was hoping you would say that, for if you receive him, everyone will. But Peregrine is not a savage, though I'm not sure he is precisely civilized, either. He is a remarkable man—not like anyone you have ever met." Ross started to say more, then shook his head. "I should let you draw your own conclusions. May I bring him to your garden party next week? It would be a suitable occasion to introduce Peregrine to a small slice of London society. Less overpowering than a ball."
"Of course he is welcome. I look forward to meeting him."
Before Sara could say more, Sir Charles Weldon appeared. She suppressed a guilty start; in the pleasure of talking with her cousin, she had forgotten that Charles was due.
Ross rose as the other man approached, and they shook hands. "Good morning, Sir Charles. I imagine it is my cousin you have come to visit, so I will take my leave."
Weldon smiled genially. "Very tactful of you, Lord Ross. Indeed, I am most anxious to speak with Lady Sara."
As Ross disappeared from sight, Weldon took Sara's hand and bent over to kiss it. As he did, she examined him approvingly. Even though he was near fifty, her future husband was a fine figure of a man, tall and powerfully built, with the air of understated confidence that success brings. There was only a scattering of gray in his light brown hair, and the lines in his face just made his appearance more distinguished.
Weldon straightened, his expression intent. Clasping Sara's hand, he asked softly, "You know why I have come, Lady Sara. Dare I hope you will give me the answer I have been praying for?''
She felt a touch of irritation that he was going through an amorous charade over what was really a practical arrangement. No doubt he thought romance was what she expected. As Ross had remarked, Sara was a cold-blooded creature; most women would have preferred the soft words.
Smiling, she said, "If the answer you have been praying for is yes, you are in luck."
When he heard her reply, his pale blue eyes filled with such fierce triumph that for the first time Sara wondered if his heart was engaged as well as his head. The thought made her uneasy. She was prepared to be a dutiful wife, but if he wanted passionate response, he was doomed to disappointment.
The hint of dangerous exultation vanished so thoroughly that it must have been imagination. Weldon pulled a small velvet jeweler's box from his pocket and flicked it open with his thumb. The box contained a ring with a diamond so large that Sara drew in her breath in surprise as Weldon slipped it onto her finger. It was a jewel fit for royalty or a really superior courtesan.
"It's magnificent, Charles." Sara turned her hand, admiring the shimmer of blue fire in the diamond's depths. The stone's natural color was enhanced by the small sapphires that encircled it. Rather gaudy and not at all her style, but very lovely. "Though perhaps a smaller stone would have been better."
"You don't like it?" he said with a slight edge to his voice.
Concerned that she had hurt his feelings, Sara glanced up with a quick smile. "The ring is lovely, but the stone is so large that I shall cost you a fortune in ruined gloves."
He smiled back as he sat down next to her. "I want you to cost me a fortune. You are the best, and you deserve the best."
This time it was a hint of possessiveness that made Sara uneasy. Becoming betrothed was making her oversensitive. There was no particular mystery to marriage. Most women entered the state, and once she became more accustomed to the idea, she would no longer start at shadows.
She turned the engagement ring on her finger. "You guessed the size exactly right."
"I didn't guess. Your maid gave me the correct size."
"Was that necessary?" Sara asked, not at all pleased to learn that her future husband had engaged in a form of spying.
"Audacity is a necessary ingredient to success, my dear, and I have been very successful." He paused for dramatic effect. "I have just learned something that you might consider another betrothal gift. Your husband will not be a commoner for long—I am going to be created a baron within the next year. I will call myself Lord Weldon of Westminster. Has a nice roll to it, don't you think?" He smiled with vast satisfaction. "While becoming a baroness is a step down for a duke's daughter, this is only the beginning. I will be at least an earl before I die."
"I would be perfectly content to marry plain Mr. Weldon," Sara said gently, "but I am very pleased that you will be recognized for your achievements." In fact, she thought rather cynically, he was being rewarded less for his undeniable accomplishments than for giving large amounts of money to the Whig party. But since being made a peer was obviously important to him, she was glad for his sake.