Free If I Fall by Kate Noble

Jack’s memory, a girl who led her sisters like a mother hen into childish mischief. The other Sarah Forrester was a jewel, sparkling, alluring, whose looks drove men to camp outside of her house in the hopes of a glimpse of her fair hair and green eyes, and whose acerbic wit bordered on cruelty.
    Everyone at this party had no idea the former existed, instead falling madly for the latter.
    Including Whigby.
    “I need a drink,” Jack mumbled, looking down into his cut-glass cup of orangey liquid. “A real one, not this … stuff.”
    “That’s a plan!” Whigby cried, cramming the bit of food into his mouth. “We can forgo this madhouse for a better one—with drink and cards, and women who let you touch more than their hands…”
    “A hell?” Jackson’s brow perked up.
    “Better than this mess.”
    “True enough—but I’m afraid that since I am lucky enough to be staying with a good family, I must act deserving of it.”
    “And you’re the luckiest bastard in England because of it.” Whigby said between chews. “I still can’t believe it! Miss Sarah Forrester! The Golden Lady.”
    Over the past several days, Jack had heard the phrase “the Golden Lady” more times than he could count. Indeed, ever since he came to London, Jack had received a daily education on the life of Sarah Forrester.
    It began almost immediately with Amanda announcing his presence to her mother and sisters seconds after they began to head up the stairs that first day. Amanda, of course, crowed with delight over having the information first for once, a full ten minutes ahead of everyone else. And then, delightfully, everyone else crowed over seeing him.
    “Jackson!” Lady Forrester cried, her eyes taking on a decided sheen. “Oh, my boy, can it really be you? I hardly recognize you.”
    “Perhaps you should put your spectacles on, mother,” Bridget piped up, exasperation in her voice. In years past, Lady Forrester had frequently gone without her spectacles, and it seemed her vanity had not changed.
    Indeed, that good lady ignored her daughter’s good advice, simply embracing Jack again. “You’re so tall, and so dark!”
    “Except his hair, mother,” Amanda piped up. “Look, he’s gone quite blond in the sun.”
    Indeed, he was soon to be embraced by all of the Forresters (even Bridget had a smile on her face where previously there had been only a scowl) when Lord Forrester stepped through the front door not a minute later.
    “Demmed suitors, trampling my crocuses…” he grumbled as he passed through the door, his moustache twitching in a way that bespoke his frustration. But his grumbles changed markedly when he saw Jack enveloped by the sea offemininity, lighting up and pumping his hand with such vigor that Jack had to stretch his fingers afterward.
    Indeed, everyone had surrounded and embraced him like the prodigal child he didn’t know he’d been. Except for Sarah. She held herself back. Waiting for her moment.
    Then, she slowly moved down the few stairs, and came to stand before—but still above him.
    “Jackson,” she said coolly, her lips curving up in the smallest of smiles. “Or should we address you as Lieutenant now?”
    It was the oddest thing. Here he had been, caught up in the enthusiasm of being received by the family he thought of as his own, blushing with the joy of it, and suddenly, Sarah had floated in and sounded…
    Seductive.
    Controlled.
    False.
    It set his back up, and set off alarms in his head.
    Instead of stuttering in her presence or blushing over her hand, like Sarah seemed to expect him to, he pulled himself up to his full height and gave the deepest of bows. “If you so desire, Miss Forrester. Or we could dispense with artifice that has never been there in the first place.”
    While Sarah stared into his face, visibly trying to discern his tone, Bridget nearly choked on laughter. Lord Forrester thumped Jackson on the back.
    “Quite right! No artifice between the Forresters and