The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(11)

The old woman nodded and disappeared. Sarah could hear her digging into the hall closet, and went out into the hall once more, hoping she didn't look like she was hovering too anxiously outside the bathing chamber.



"Here you are, Miss. "



"Very good. Slippers, boots, and a pair of shoes?"



"I'll see what I can find."



The bathroom door opened and closed once more. Caleb came out again to fetch the clothes. He would not meet her eye.



Sarah frowned. She guessed that he had to be very angry for being asked to help the stranger. She sighed and rubbed her hands together. She did not relish having to lecture him about Christian duty. Perhaps the gentleman would be able to cope better after a few days of getting used to the vicarage. For now he needed their help.



She did not reflect too closely on her hope that he would be staying that long. He would simply have to remain until he was well rested, and she was certain he had somewhere else safe and congenial to go to. For all she knew he was heading west or north to rejoin all of his loved ones. But for now, he was her guest, and she would do her best to build him up.



She returned to the room she had recently vacated, and looked over the parlor from a whole new perspective. She closed her eyes, took a couple of steps forward, and scoured her shins upon a small footstool.



She could see within a few moments that all the fussy bits and pieces of furniture the Duke had given them would make it hard for him to negotiate without injury. And they really were too fine for a simple country vicarage anyway. He had only been trying to be kind, of course, but impractical like many men when it came to running an efficient household.



She didn't dare rearrange the room. That would be up to Pamela when she entered her new home. But there were other options for helping the stranger take his ease.



She stepped across the hall into her own snug sitting room. It was only half the size of the parlor, but her favorite room in the house. In it she read and studied, did her correspondence and household accounts. She also basked in the sunshine which poured in through the mullioned windows and down onto the snug window seat she had made some comfortable cushions for and rested on the sofa with a book between chores. It was a small room, but had a good fireplace, and was relatively uncluttered by all the finery the Duke had insisted upon them having.



She went upstairs and looked at the blue room with a similarly critical gaze. It was comfortable, but did perhaps have too many footstools and chairs. She took them all out save one good armchair, carrying them upstairs to the storage room in the attic.



Then she went back to the guest room, turned down the covers and lit a candle. Not that it was much use for a blind man, she reminded herself, and wondered at the safety of giving him one.



But she couldn't negotiate the house in the dark, and burning candles were a fact of life in the evenings. Normally the twilight would last until seven or even eight o'clock in the spring as the days got longer, but the storm raging outside had rendered it as black as night.



She blew out the candle and went back to the door. She closed her eyes against the blackness of the room and tried to grasp what it would be like to lose her sight. She knew the room well, but even so, she stubbed her slippered toe on the end of the four-poster bed.



Deciding the passage between the bed and desk and chair were too narrow, she moved the smaller pieces further over to the left. They were still under the window, but with much more space to pass from one end of the room to the other. Not that the light from the window would make much difference to him, she thought with a sigh.



A clatter downstairs brought her back to reality. She struck her tinderbox and re-lit the candle, and left it in a bracket high up on the wall. She completed her tour of the room, ensuring he had towels, soap and water in his alcove behind the screen, and plenty of hot water bottles in the bed. She checked the fire to make sure it was banked up well, and drew the hearth rug back just in case of stray sparks. There was a fire screen also, but she would put that in front of the hearth for him when she built up the fire one last time before he went to bed.



Sarah headed downstairs and told Caleb to put the gentleman in the parlor, close to the fire so he could dry his hair before he went up to bed.



She stared at her handsome guest again as he entered, and for once was glad he couldn't see. She was sure her mouth was hanging open, he looked so stunning. He was now well scrubbed and newly shaven and dressed in clean, dark clothes which complemented his raven-haired good looks perfectly. His long jet hair fell in rippling waves well past his shoulders.



He had no cravat, and Caleb had left off any stock. He had not fussed too much with his neck cloth, thus leaving his strong, lightly tanned throat bare. With that and the scar along his eye and into his hairline, his appearance was almost piratical. She felt her heart turn over at the sight of his handsome vulnerability.