Chapter Seven

S adie watched Lord Heath bow to the countess, dance with several of the wallflowers, and then depart. She shouldn't feel disappointed. He'd done exactly as he'd promised: one waltz with her. Just because she'd kept the last waltz open didn't mean he needed to take it.

It didn't matter. The countess pleaded exhaustion after the supper buffet even though her eyes sparkled with excitement. Sadie feared everyone could see that something was up, and so was quick to agree.

"Countess—" she began once they got into the carriage.

"When we get home, I want you to immediately take down your hair. Fluff it a bit, though so it looks…" Her hands waved vaguely at her bodice.

"You want me to appear in dishabille?"

"Not dishabille! That's too much. But perhaps suggest it?"

"Who's coming over?" she demanded.

"Lord Heath needs to converse in private. About Prinny."

Prinny? Sadie's heart jumped into her throat. What could the prince need with her? Or the countess? And what—

"Don't panic. We won't know anything until Lord Heath arrives. But I haven't told you anything, so when you come downstairs to see what is happening, you should look partially in dishabille."

Sadie understood exactly what the countess wanted, but had to caution the lady—and herself—against hope.

"He's not going to propose. He has said that explicitly."

"Tut tut!" The countess flicked her fingers in dismissal. "He's an honorable man. If he beds you, he'll marry you."

Sadie gaped at the woman, shocked by what she'd just said. "You want me to… You think…" She shook her head. "You never suggested anything like this before!"

The countess rolled her eyes. "You're Scottish, you're notorious, and you have been on the market too long. Don't do anything scandalous, but if he is your choice, then consider a calculated risk." She fussed with her gloves as she spoke. "You needn't do everything. Keep your virginity. I doubt it will take much before he feels honor bound to offer for you."

"And you think I should want a marriage like that? One begun out of force?"

"Many successful marriages begin that way. But don't do it if it's against your morals."

"Trapping a man? Of course it's against my morals!"

"You can't trap a man who willingly takes you to bed. He's well aware of the consequences." She stared hard at Sadie. "Just smash something. Topple a book or break a lamp. I'll come running."

Sadie shook her head. "You needn't go so far to get rid of me, Countess. Send me home now and declare me unmarriageable. I can live off the rest of my dowry."

The lady nodded, her head bobbing as she clearly thought to herself. "I suppose there is enough for a sparse living. I have no idea how expensive it is to survive in Scotland. It seems as if you all grow strong on hard cheese and cold winds." She finally stilled as she looked at Sadie. "I shall leave you both alone for a time. It will allow for plain speaking. What you do with it is up to you." Then her voice softened. "But do think about Lord Heath. He has a good living, is as handsome as they come, and no obvious vices. I believe the two of you would make a great match."

She'd done nothing but think about him since that first night's dream kiss. But whenever she remembered his exquisite caress, the banshee's wail cut through her thoughts. It was just a dream, but she couldn't shake the fear it caused. Worse, outside of her dreams, he'd never shown any interest in kissing her beyond a few intense looks and the wonderful way they'd waltzed.

"He has said he will not marry me. I am not what he wants in a wife."

The countess huffed out an annoyed breath. "We are not speaking about what he wants! What do you want? He is a good catch. If you want him, tonight you shall have an opportunity to have him."

There was no more discussion. Once home, Sadie went to her room while the countess restocked the brandy. All the while, Sadie mulled the question: Did she want to marry Lord Heath?

She didn't want to say yes. She didn't want to admit that every time she saw the man, he grew more appealing. He'd protected her when she'd been accused of murder two seasons ago, and he'd helped with Lord Liddican. He was a good father, a fantastic dancer, his children were adorable, and…

And when he looked at her, all the nonsense seemed to fade away. All she saw was him, while her blood heated and her strength of will faded. It made no sense. She enjoyed fighting with the man. She'd laughed openly at his troubles controlling his children. And she desperately wanted him to seduce her.

That wasn't a good basis for a marriage, but the countess was right. It was a beginning. Still, she couldn't forget her nightmares. For all that she discounted them as silly dreams, a childhood spent recounting bloody fairytales to her brothers had left its mark. She could not reason herself out of her fears. If a banshee showed up whenever she dream-kissed Lord Heath, then she ought to take heed.

She should definitely not seduce Lord Heath tonight. Not even if he tried to kiss her. Because dream or not, she could not defy those demons.

Satisfied with her decision, she waited ten minutes after she heard the knocker. Then she crept downstairs, knocked, and opened the door without waiting for the countess's response. "My apologies," she began. "I heard voices and I thought…"

Her voice trailed away when she saw Lord Heath. He wore all the right clothes, but every piece was in disarray. His neckcloth was askew, his jacket seemed ill-fitting, and his hands were shoved in his pockets making them look misshapen. She could not understand it. He'd appeared in perfect wardrobe when he punched Lord Liddican, but now, he looked completely out of sorts.

"What has happened?" she asked, stepping further into the room.

He turned to see her, his gaze tight on her face. "Are you all right?" He took a halting step forward, then stopped himself. "We are in private now. Has Eddie been harassing you? You must tell me the specifics so that I may know how to stop him."

"What?"

Meanwhile the countess frowned. "Who is Eddie? We were talking about Prinny."

Lord Heath rubbed a hand over his face, clearly trying to reset himself. "My apologies, Countess. I fear my mind is—"

Sadie interrupted, rather than watch Lord Heath try to hide the fact that he knew her alter ego. "Lord Heath knows I am Lady Vengeance. Together, we are trying to ensure that Lord Liddican—Eddie—no longer beats his wife and child."

The countess straightened with a sniff. "Her child is barely three years old!"

"Yes. Lord Liddican does not care whom he beats, so long as she is female."

"That's not exactly true," Lord Heath rasped, then he sighed. "But it's mostly true."

"I see…" the countess said, her words a slow drawl. "So this discussion of the Prince wanting to meet Miss Allen was subterfuge. Prinny has no—"

"No, no!" Lord Heath said. "Prinny wants to meet her, but he doesn't want it to appear arranged. He thinks that would put too much gravity upon the situation."

Sadie frowned. "I thought he was going to inspect the tree that I climbed, and I was to accidentally be there when he does."

Lord Heath's brows rose. "That's an excellent idea."

Oh damn. That arrangement had been made during her dream. It hadn't been real. But now he was latching onto it as brilliant.

"It cannot be tomorrow," he said. "That's the vote. But the day afterwards during the fashionable hour? You could choose to take a break from Hyde Park and wander—"

"At the exact location of our picnic," picked up the countess. "Yes, I shall see it done."

"But, no!" Sadie cried.

"Why not?" Lord Heath asked, his expression open. Not so the countess, who said the exact same phrase but in a much different tone.

"Because…" She couldn't tell them that she'd dreamed this and the banshee had come. Except that wasn't exactly right. She rubbed a hand over her face. "I know I'm not making sense, but must I truly meet the prince like that?"

The countess huffed out a breath. "This way, any way, so long as you meet him and he approves of you! Honestly, Sadie, I don't understand—"

"I do," Lord Heath interrupted. "It is whatever has upset you, isn't it? This has nothing to do with the prince. It's why you appeared so lackluster today."

Lackluster? "I'm sorry I did not measure up," she snapped.

"You know that's not what I meant," Lord Heath countered. He crossed the room to stand directly before her. With slow movements, he cupped her elbows, drawing her close until they were face to face. He was taller, but it was the gentleness with which he surrounded her that broke her reserve.

"It is the nightmares," she whispered.

"Nightmares!" the countess exclaimed. "She woke the entire house screaming again."

Sadie felt her face heat with embarrassment. "It is nothing!"

"No," the countess said as she rose to her feet. "No, it is definitely not nothing. But since you have chosen not to share the full details of your Lady Vengeance antics with me, I shall leave the two of you to discuss them in private. Whatever it is that causes these dreams, you must figure it out and end them. I cannot have my sleep disrupted again. It will surely affect my health."

Lord Heath turned to her in surprise. "You are leaving us? Alone?"

The lady slowed her steps and looked frankly at him. "I have come to understand that it is useless to treat Miss Allen like any other debutante. She is unusual, like my Gwen. She knows her own mind and can defend herself adequately should you cross the line. She is Lady Vengeance, after all."

"But—"

"Do you need a chaperone to act honorably?"

Lord Heath straightened. "Of course not."

"Exactly," said the countess. Then she looked at Sadie. "I am going to bed. If he does anything untoward, kick him somewhere painful." And with that, the lady swept from the room, shutting the door behind her.