Page 36 of Hot and Bothered in July
“Spoken like a true gentleman,” Lord Foxworth said with a knowing bob of his head. “The best thing you can do in situations like these is grovel. Quite admirably.”
“I am not sure that will repair the damage I have caused.”
“No doubt you will think of something.” The older man clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever happens, I know that you are an honorable man and anything that was said was not truly uttered with malicious intent. Sariah will see that too, but it may not be easy to get her to listen to your reasons at first.” He stepped back. “But if you actually did approach me this morning, know that I would have given you both my blessing on a successful match. You may not have been born into the nobility, Mr. Carrington, but you are as fine and capable a gentleman as any others that are known to me.”
As he took his leave, Reed continued to stand out in front of the office. He heard thunder in the distance and glanced up at the sky which had abruptly darkened with heavy gray clouds. It was as if the heavens itself were shaming his actions. What an utterly foolish thing he’d done, listening at the door to gossip that was completely amiss, something he’d found a way to contort to his own twisted logic because it was easier than tobelieve the alternative. He had wanted to imagine that she would throw him over for another because Reed did not think he was good enough for her.
After today, he definitely wasn’t certain of that fact, but he vowed he would do whatever possible to ensure his mistakes were atoned. But he couldn’t do it on his own. He would need the assistance of his closest allies—if not the entire English army.
It had been a week. A long, tortuous week and she had yet to hear or see a single sign of Reed. At this point, she was getting annoyed that he hadn’t bothered to try to make amends. She had been back in London for nearly two days already and yet—nothing. By this time, July was nearly over and most of the upper echelon that had not already retreated to their country estates for the summer were starting to leave. Sariah knew it was only a matter of time before her father announced the same. In truth, she was eager to get away from London for a time, that way she would not be overset with thoughts of Reed and whether he would dare to knock on the door at any given moment.
On this day, she was grateful to be getting a chance to leave her cursed thoughts at home for a time and head to the Royal Academy of Arts to see the latest exhibitions. It was always a delight to view the latest works by well-respected and upcoming artists. Not only that, but she was going with Maggie and Ava, who had also not retired to the country as of yet. A fact for which Sariah was extremely grateful. She needed their distraction to keep from collapsing from her own heartache. Each day was a struggle as it was.
Determined to enjoy the brilliance of the day, Sariah set out in a lavender day dress. As she walked out into the bright light of day and saw the Blasingame crest flashing on the coach in front of her, she had a momentary catch in her breathing. It was so reminiscent of the day they had set out for the Pond, not knowing that tragedy was about to strike. And she did not mean the unfortunate dunk in the water, but the events that would lead up to this day.
She offered a wide smile to Maggie and Ava as she settled herself across from them, for all intents and purposes acting as though nothing at all was amiss.
“’Tis a glorious day!” she exclaimed, hoping that she didn’t soundtooexcited, or they would see right through her ruse.
“Quite,” Maggie drawled, and Sariah couldn’t tell if she was being her usual dry self, or if she had already caught on to the façade.
Ava sighed dreamily. “I cannot wait to see the latest pieces on display. Is there a certain artist you are excited to see?”
“Personally, I love Thomas Gainsborough’sThe Blue Boy,” Sariah noted. “I have long admired his use of color in the large portrait. It is magnificent, as if the image could actually step out of the canvas and walk among us in real life.”
“Agreed.” Maggie nodded. “His art is rather divine. But I am partial to William Hogarth and his satirical depictions.”
“Of course, that would be your preference,” Ava said with a giggle. “Anything that offers an attempt at a jest.”
They continued to chat until the carriage finally rolled to a stop. As they exited the vehicle, Sariah noted that the crowd looked rather diminished than on previous visits to the academy. “Have we been granted a private showing?” she asked curiously.
“I am not certain,” Maggie said noncommittally, but she exchanged a glance that was not lost on Sariah.
She narrowed her focus on both of them. “Is something going on that you are not telling me?”
“Of course not. Why would you suggest that?” Ava said with a bright smile.
This time, Sariah was convinced that there was something afoot, but before she could ask them further about it, they entered the establishment.
A gentleman walked over to them. He smiled kindly. “Miss Kent?” Maggie and Ava hung back slightly as the man bowed slightly to Sariah. “If you would follow me?”
Sariah obeyed, but not without a glare for her friends who looked entirely too guilty for her peace of mind. With pursed lips, she was about to ask the man what this was all about when he paused before a room further down the hall and waved a hand for her to enter. It was the main gallery.
She narrowed her focus but moved forward while he hung back and shut the doors behind her. A sense of foreboding washed over her.
Something wasn’t right…
And then she realized what had caused the unease.
Reed.
He was standing with his back to the door, hands clasped behind him as he looked at one of the portraits on the wall. He was dressed in the height of fashion in navy breeches and a matching jacket. If no one would know he wasn’t part of the aristocracy, they would believe him to be an earl, or even a duke. Even his manner of speech was smooth and even. “This portrait makes me think of the first time we met, when you strode across the edge of the Peerless Pond as if you had every right to be there. This girl has the same direct approach to her gaze as you did that day.”
Sariah stayed where she was across the room, but she could clearly see the image in question. “That isPinkieby ThomasLawrence. I have seen it here before and the portrait is quite remarkable, although I would not dare to say I resemble her in any manner. And I must point out that her sash and bonnet are pink, not her entire dress.”
He turned slowly. He wore a tan waistcoat threaded with gold, a crisp white cravat at his neck. His blond hair was brushed back from his forehead and glinted with strands of gold when it caught the overhead lighting. He was still her perfectly imperfect Adonis. She might still be angry at him for saying such horrid things that weren’t true, and then departing so abruptly, but her heart could not tell the difference. He was still the man she loved with every single beat of her heart.
He put a hand on his chest. “My mistake.” He paused, as if waiting for her to rail at him, but she was more interested to see how he intended to handle this reunion.
