Free Sarah's Duke: and Ellie's Gentleman (The heir and the spare, book 1) by Georgiana Louis Page B
Authors: Georgiana Louis
McTavish’s tenants, give him children, share his bed . A sudden vision of the big Scot covering Sarah’s small but lush body with his own flashed before Oliver’s eyes and he saw red. He clenched his teeth and let out a small groan as jealousy ripped through him. Before he could control his wayward emotions the fragile crystal of the whiskey glass shattered in his hand.
Gasping as pain sliced through his palm he jumped up and away from the fragments of glass. Rupert rushed over to him, wrapping Oliver’s palm quickly in his large white handkerchief.
“You are having no luck with your whiskey today,” he joked, wrapping the wound tightly and tying it off. “I think that may need a few stitches,” he motioned towards the butler and in a few concise statements Oliver’s drinks were put on his account, and he was in his carriage, on his way home to be met there by the surgeon.
As Oliver sat in his bedroom in his family’s town house getting his hand stitched up he marveled over his response to Sarah’s upcoming betrothal. Did he really care that much who she married? He didn’t think he had gone a day without his thinking of her or a night without dreaming about her since the moment they’d met, but did that mean he had the right to interfere in her life?
When he awoke the next morning in a hot sweat, amidst a nightmare that consisted of Sarah in her new life, happy and contented whilst he grew old and bitter with some faceless Duchess by his side, he knew he had to do something.
****
Sarah stood at the entrance to the ballroom, waiting for her mother who was still handing her coat over to a footman. This was the night she expected a proposal of marriage from Jamie McTavish, and after only two weeks of courting! She should be elated, blissfully happy about the turn of events. She had succeeded in finding a man that would not only look after her family but would more than likely be a good and kind husband to her.
Then why was she not waltzing around the room with happiness? She turned her face towards the wall and grimaced. She knew why. Because she still missed Oliver. There was something just missing with Jamie. There wasn’t any of the spark or excitement that she felt with Oliver.
Sarah and her mother were announced as they stepped into the large, opulent room. There was a quadrille playing and the hum of conversation already surrounded the well heated room.
“Good evening, Miss Collins.”
Sarah turned to smile at the Scottish devil himself, who bowed low to her. She held her hand out to him.
“Please call me Sarah, I told you to last night.” She reminded him with a small smile.
“True,” he conceded with a grin.
Sarah looked into his blue eyes and knew that this man would be a good husband. He was handsome in an unusual way and looked as strong as an ox.
“But I was hoping to wait to use it at a special moment...” He let his voice trail off and her stomach lurched. “If that would be all right?”
Sarah was light headed all of a sudden, black spots swimming before her eyes.
“Of course,” she forced out, breathless although she wasn’t even moving.
“You look a little pale my dear, would you like to sit down?”
Yes , I would love to. But first she needed a moment to compose herself.
“Thank you Mr McTavish, as usual you are so thoughtful. But perhaps you will excuse me as I need to go to the ladies retiring room.” She smiled politely. He seemed to like her smile and her mother had instructed her to use it as much as possible.
“Of course,” he bowed again and smiled in return.
Sarah walked along the plush carpet of the hallway. She was making her way to the retiring room when someone came up behind her. She moved slightly to the left so the person could go around her, but instead she felt a firm hand grab her under the elbow and she was steered into a room off the corridor.
The candles were lit in the study which Sarah was grateful for. She gulped and took a fast breath
Gasping as pain sliced through his palm he jumped up and away from the fragments of glass. Rupert rushed over to him, wrapping Oliver’s palm quickly in his large white handkerchief.
“You are having no luck with your whiskey today,” he joked, wrapping the wound tightly and tying it off. “I think that may need a few stitches,” he motioned towards the butler and in a few concise statements Oliver’s drinks were put on his account, and he was in his carriage, on his way home to be met there by the surgeon.
As Oliver sat in his bedroom in his family’s town house getting his hand stitched up he marveled over his response to Sarah’s upcoming betrothal. Did he really care that much who she married? He didn’t think he had gone a day without his thinking of her or a night without dreaming about her since the moment they’d met, but did that mean he had the right to interfere in her life?
When he awoke the next morning in a hot sweat, amidst a nightmare that consisted of Sarah in her new life, happy and contented whilst he grew old and bitter with some faceless Duchess by his side, he knew he had to do something.
****
Sarah stood at the entrance to the ballroom, waiting for her mother who was still handing her coat over to a footman. This was the night she expected a proposal of marriage from Jamie McTavish, and after only two weeks of courting! She should be elated, blissfully happy about the turn of events. She had succeeded in finding a man that would not only look after her family but would more than likely be a good and kind husband to her.
Then why was she not waltzing around the room with happiness? She turned her face towards the wall and grimaced. She knew why. Because she still missed Oliver. There was something just missing with Jamie. There wasn’t any of the spark or excitement that she felt with Oliver.
Sarah and her mother were announced as they stepped into the large, opulent room. There was a quadrille playing and the hum of conversation already surrounded the well heated room.
“Good evening, Miss Collins.”
Sarah turned to smile at the Scottish devil himself, who bowed low to her. She held her hand out to him.
“Please call me Sarah, I told you to last night.” She reminded him with a small smile.
“True,” he conceded with a grin.
Sarah looked into his blue eyes and knew that this man would be a good husband. He was handsome in an unusual way and looked as strong as an ox.
“But I was hoping to wait to use it at a special moment...” He let his voice trail off and her stomach lurched. “If that would be all right?”
Sarah was light headed all of a sudden, black spots swimming before her eyes.
“Of course,” she forced out, breathless although she wasn’t even moving.
“You look a little pale my dear, would you like to sit down?”
Yes , I would love to. But first she needed a moment to compose herself.
“Thank you Mr McTavish, as usual you are so thoughtful. But perhaps you will excuse me as I need to go to the ladies retiring room.” She smiled politely. He seemed to like her smile and her mother had instructed her to use it as much as possible.
“Of course,” he bowed again and smiled in return.
Sarah walked along the plush carpet of the hallway. She was making her way to the retiring room when someone came up behind her. She moved slightly to the left so the person could go around her, but instead she felt a firm hand grab her under the elbow and she was steered into a room off the corridor.
The candles were lit in the study which Sarah was grateful for. She gulped and took a fast breath