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The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection Volume 2(3)

By:Sorcha MacMurrough




Sarah took one last glimpse at the furious storm outside. What she saw decided her in an instant. She would order Jenny to prepare a guest room.



Sarah firmly ignored the voice of propriety reminding her that it was completely unsuitable to invite the man to stay now that she was living alone in the vicarage for the summer.



"Please come in, sir. My name is Sarah. I wasn't expecting anyone to stay. But if you're willing to take us as you find us here, you're more than welcome, Mr. er-"



"Deveril. I've told you. Jonathan Deveril."



She was not going to argue with him when lightning was already streaking the almost black sky, and the smell of sulphur choked the air.



She clutched his saturated sleeve and led him over the threshold carefully. "Please, sir, do hurry. The storm is bringing such cold air with it, I fear you will take a chill."



She sensed his embarrassment, but also relief. "Thank you so much. I don't wish to be a bother but--" "It's no bother. We have people to stay often. It's a busy parish," she told him as she started to lead him slowly towards the front parlor. "This way. Mind that small step." "Thank you. It's so difficult not being able to see. Often people try to take advantage, cheat you. I've found that out the hard way."



"I'm so sorry to hear that," she said sincerely. "A man like yourself, who's obviously fought for his country, shouldn't be treated with such rudeness and contempt."



She led him into the fine Wedgwood sitting room and over to a simple wooden settle by the fire which Jenny often used when she was sitting with her shelling peas or peeling potatoes.



"You'll forgive the lack of comfort, but you're rather mired from your travels. I'll ask the servants to prepare a bath, if I may."



"A bath! In a tub?"



"Well, yes, a full bathtub. You're not one of those people who think it's a dangerous thing, are you?" she asked with a small frown.



The man smiled for the first time, and his handsome face became even more breathtaking. "Not at all. I was just thinking I can't recall the last time I had a bath in a proper tub, only sponge baths as and when I could make do. What luxury. It's been well, weeks, months, I suppose."



"You've had a long journey, but you're welcome here," she reassured him, trying not to stare at his incredible face and physique. "Anything the servants and I can do for your comfort, you have only to ask."



"A bath would be remarkable, but I would not wish to put anyone to such trouble-"



"Nay, no trouble at all," she hastened to reassure him. "The bathing chamber is here on the first floor, so no one has to run up and down, and in fact, we have hot and cold running water thanks to a fresh stream on the property, and a large copper boiler."



"Do you indeed." She could seeing him digesting this information, assessing anew his situation. "How very modern."



"Er, yes. We have a most generous patron, who fitted out the vicarage for my brother when he took his orders a few years ago. It's a old building, but sound. It just needed a bit of re-decorating and new fittings."



"I see." Obviously what he concluded about her and her hospitality was favorable, for he visibly relaxed and stretched out his hands and feet to soak up the warmth of the fire.



"Take off your coat and jacket and hang them on the back of this wooden settle. I'll just go tell the servants to fill the boiler. I shall bring you a basin to wash your hands, and a light repast to tide you over until supper. If I'm not mistaken, judging from our call at the butcher's and the smell, it will be roast beef and Yorkshire pudding this evening."



"It sounds wonderful," he said with a sigh. "I will place myself in your hands. Thank you so much."



She smiled back at him, then recollected that he could not see her. She ventured to touch his shoulder. "You're very welcome."



She studied his remarkable face once more, hoping for a clue as to his identity, but was sure they had never met.



She went into the kitchen at the back of the house, where Jenny was just starting to prepare the Yorkshire pudding batter.



"Sorry I didn't come into you sooner. I was letting the tea steep."



"Oh, thank you. But that's not why I'm here. How long until the meal is ready, Jenny?"



"You said regular time, so about another hour, Miss."



She took two cups from the Welsh dresser and poured out a drop of the tea, sipped, and put the other cup on the table. She added milk and sugar to the second one. "You and Caleb can have the rest of the pot."



"Why, thank you, Miss," she said with a smile. "You're far too generous and good-hearted. Folk do say tea be worth its weight in gold."