"Yes."
Sara reached the foyer and made a curtsy to her audience.
"You needn't be so formal with us," Caine said.
Sara smiled. "I wasn't," she said. "I was just making certain I wouldn't fall out of this dress when I do have to curtsy."
"What about when your husband has his hands around your neck and he's strangling you?" Jimbo asked. "Will the gown prove sturdy enough, do you suppose?"
"I'm going to find her a cloak," Caine said.
"Nonsense," Jade argued. "It's too warm for a cloak."
The argument continued even after they were on their way.
The duke and duchess of Farnmount lived a scant mile outside of London proper. Their home was gigantic in diameter, with impressive manicured lawns circling the terraces. Hired servants held torches along the side of the road, lighting the way.
"Rumor has it that the prince has tried to buy Farnmount's residence," Caine said. "He won't give it up, of course."
"Yes," Jade agreed, though she was barely paying attention to her husband's remarks. She was watching Sara. "You look flushed to me," she said. "Are you feeling well?"
"She's fine," Caine said.
Sara wasn't fine, though. Her mind raced with her worries. "The Winchesters will be there tonight," she suddenly blurted out. "None of the men would dare offend the duke and duchess. I don't understand, though, why this is the only affair the St. James family attends."
Caine grinned. "It's the only affair they're invited to attend," he explained.
"I worry about Nathan," Sara suddenly blurted out.
"Jimbo, I wish you could come inside, too. Caine may need your assistance watching out for my husband."
"The boy will be all right," Jimbo answered. He patted Sara's hand. "Quit your fretting."
No one said another word until the carriage drew to a stop in front of the mansion. Jimbo jumped down, then turned to assist Sara. "I'll be standing right beside this carriage. When you've had enough, just step outside the front door, and I'll spot you."
"She'll stay with us until Nathan arrives," Caine said.
Sara nodded. She took a deep breath, lifted the hem of her skirt, and went up the steps.
The ballroom was located on the top level of the four-story structure. The stairway leading up was a blaze of candles and fresh flowers.
A butler stood next to the entrance to the ballroom. There were three steps leading down to the dance area. Caine handed his invitation to the servant, then waited until the bell was dutifully rung. It was a signal to the other guests crowding the floor. Few paid attention, other than to give a quick look up toward the entrance, for a waltz was in progress, and they were busy concentrating on their footwork.
"The earl of Cainewood and his wife, Lady Jade," the butler announced in a loud, booming voice.
It was Sara's turn next. She handed the man the invitation Caine had given her, then stood by his side until the introduction was made.
"Lady Sara St. James."
He might as well have shouted fire. The announcement had just the same force. A low murmur began in the middle of the crowd, and by the time everyone had added their whisper the sound had increased to earthquake proportions.
One couple actually bumped into another as the man and woman strained to get a better look at Sara.
She held her head high and stared down at the crowd. She prayed she looked composed. Then Caine took hold of her hand. Jade moved to Sara's other side and took hold of her other hand.
"Sara, dear, have you noticed that the Winchesters are all squeezed up together on the right side of the ballroom, and the St. James are all on the left? One might be led to conclude that the two families don't get along."
Jade had made those remarks. Sara broke into a smile. Her sister-in-law had sounded so perplexed. "Rumor has it they don't particularly like each other," Sara teased back.
"I think we'll take up the middle so as not to show partiality," Caine announced as he led the ladies down the steps.
"Nathan isn't here yet, is he?" Jade asked. "Sara, do keep smiling. Everyone's gawking at you. It's the dress, I imagine. You look positively stunning tonight."
The next hour was a trial. Sara's father was in attendance. He made quite a show of giving his daughter the cut direct. When she looked over to the Winchester side of the ballroom the guests turned their backs on her.
Everyone noticed the slight, of course. Caine was furious on Sara's behalf until he looked at her face and saw that she was smiling. He relaxed then.
Dunnford St. James hadn't missed the cut, either. The leader of the St. James clan let out a loud snort, then strolled over to speak to his nephew's wife.
Dunnford was a large, square-framed man with far more muscle than fat. His hair was gray, thinning, and cut as short as a squire's in olden days. He had a full beard, broad shoulders, and looked ill at ease in his formal black attire and crooked starched cravat.
Caine thought he was prettier than his wife.
"What do we have here?" he bellowed when he stopped directly in front of Sara. "This be Nathan's woman?"
"You know perfectly well who she is," Caine answered. "Lady Sara, have you met Dunnford St. James?"
Sara made a formal curtsy. "It is a pleasure to meet you," she said.
Dunnford looked bewildered. "Are you jesting with me?"
Now she looked confused. "I beg your pardon?"
"She has manners, Dunnford. Surprising in a St. James, isn't it?"
A sparkle entered the older man's eyes. "She just became a St. James. She'll have to prove herself before I'll welcome her."
Sara took a step toward Dunnford. That surprised him more than the curtsy had. He was used to having women back away from him. They never smiled, either. This one, he concluded bleakly, was different.
"How shall I prove myself to you?" Sara asked. "Should I shoot one of your brothers to gain your approval, do you suppose?"
She was jesting. He took her suggestion to heart. "Well, now, I suppose it would depend upon which brother you shot. Tom's always a good choice."
"For God's sake, Dunnford, Sara was teasing you."
Dunnford grunted. "Then why'd she offer?"
Caine shook his head. "It was a jest in reference to the time you shot your brother," he explained.
Dunnford rubbed his beard. His grin was devilish. "So you heard about that little misunderstanding, did you? Tom doesn't hold a grudge," he added. "Pity, that. A good feud livens up a family."
Before anyone could remark upon that outrageous remark Dunnford let out a low growl. "Where's your husband? I'm wanting a word with him."
"He should be here any minute," Caine said.
"Where is your wife?" Sara asked. "I would like to meet her."
"Whatever for?" Dunnford countered. "She's probably in the dining room seeing about my meal."
"Aren't you going to say hello to me?" Jade asked her uncle. "You're pretending I'm not even here. Are you still upset because I gave Caine a daughter and not a son?"
"You carrying again yet?" Dunnford asked.
Jade shook her head.
"Then I ain't speaking to you until I get a nephew." He turned to Caine. "You bedding her proper?" he demanded.
Caine grinned. "Every chance I get," he drawled out, Sara turned red with embarrassment. She noticed that Jade was trying not to smile. Dunnford was giving Nathan's sister a hard glare. Then he turned to Sara again, and suddenly the older man reached out and clasped the sides of her h*ps with his big hands.
"What are you doing?" Caine demanded in a whisper. He tried to push Dunnford's hands away.
Sara was too astonished by the bold action to move. She simply stared down at his hands.
"I'm taking her measure," Dunnford announced. "She don't look wide enough to bring a babe into the world. The skirt could be deceiving," he added with a nod. "Aye, you might be wide enough."
He was now staring at her chest. Sara's hands immediately covered her bosom. She wasn't about to let him measure anything else.
"I can see you got yourself enough to feed the babe. Are you carrying yet?"
Her face couldn't possibly turn any hotter. She took a step forward. "You will behave yourself," she whispered. "If you touch me again, sir, I will strike you. Are you completely without manners?"
Dunnford guessed he was. When he said so, Sara took yet another step toward him. Caine was amazed by her boldness. Just as astonishing was the fact that Dunnford actually backed up. "I would like a cup of punch, Uncle Dunnford," Sara said then. "It would be proper for you to fetch it for me."
Dunnford shrugged. Sara let out a sigh. "I do suppose I could ask one of the Winchesters to fetch it for me," she said then.
"They'd spit on you first," Dunnford announced. "You're swaying toward our side of the family, aren't you?"
She nodded. He grinned. "I'll be happy to fetch a drink for you."
Sara watched her uncle force his way through the crowd. There was a line waiting for the servant to ladle out a portion of the pink punch. Dunnford pushed the line of guests aside with a hard shove.
"I wouldn't drink any of the punch if I were you," Caine drawled out after Dunnford picked up the giant punch bowl and took several long gulps. He put the bowl back on the table, then dunked a cup into the liquid and turned to walk back across the room.
He wiped his beard with the back of his hand when he presented the cup to Sara.
Caine noticed there was no longer a line in front of the punch bowl. He reached out and grabbed the punch so that Dunnford couldn't accidentally spill the pink liquid on Sara.
"Tell Nathan I'm wanting a word with him," Dunnford announced once again. He added a frown to his reminder, then turned his back and walked over to the far side of the room where his relatives were standing.
Sara noticed the other guests made a wide path for the man. She decided then that he was very like Nathan.
"The marquess of St. James."
The shouted announcement drew everyone's attention. Sara turned to look up at the entrance. Her heart started beating frantically at the sight of her husband. She'd never seen him dressed in formal attire before. It was a bit overwhelming. His hair was bound behind his neck, and he wore the black jacket and pants like a mighty king. The arrogance in both his stance and his expression made her knees weak.
She instinctively started to walk toward him.
It was easy for Nathan to find his wife in the crowd. As soon as his name had been announced the guests had all moved toward the corners. Sara stood all alone in the center of the dance floor.
She looked magnificent to him. She was so delicate, so exquisite, so… damned naked.
Nathan bounded down the stairs toward his wife. He was already taking his jacket off.
As soon as Nathan came down the steps the Winchesters started forward. The St. James men immediately imitated that action.
Caine nudged Jade. "Go sit down," he whispered. "There could be trouble, and I don't want to have to worry about you."
Jade nodded. She wanted Caine's mind solely on protecting her brother. Then she spotted Colin coming down the steps. From the bulge under his jacket she surmised he was armed for any eventuality.
Nathan had his jacket off, but when he reached Sara he couldn't remember what he was supposed to do with it.
"Sara?"
"Yes, Nathan?"
She waited for him to say something more.
He seemed content to stand there and stare at her. Her love was so apparent in her gaze. Her smile was tender. Dear God, he thought, he was unworthy of her, and yet she loved him.
He broke out in a cold sweat. He started to reach for the handkerchief Colin had stuffed in his pocket, then realized he was holding the coat in his hands. He couldn't imagine why. He put it back on. He couldn't take his gaze off his beautiful wife, and his arm got all caught up in the sleeve, but he finally righted the thing.
Sara stepped forward and adjusted his cravat just so, then moved back again.
And still he couldn't speak to her. God, it had to be right, he told himself. She deserved that much. No, no, it had to be perfect for her, not just right, he decided once again. He'd take her down to the library, get the papers signed, and then he'd…
"I love you, Sara." His voice sounded as if he'd just had a taste of her soup.
She made him tell her again. Her eyes were filled with tears, and he knew she'd heard him the first time. "I wasn't supposed to say that—not yet, anyway," he muttered. "I love you."
Her expression didn't change. His did. He looked as though he was going to be sick.
She took pity on him. "I know you love me, Nathan. It took me a long while to realize it—almost as long as it took for you to come and fetch me—but I know now. You've loved me for a long time, haven't you?"
His relief was obvious. "Why didn't you tell me you knew?" he demanded in a whisper. "Damn it, Sara, I went through hell."
Her eyes widened, and her face turned pink. "You went through hell? You're the one who refused to have any faith in me. You're the one who would never tell me what was in your heart. I told you all the time, Nathan."
He shook his head. His grin was sheepish. "No, Sara, not all the time. You told me once a day. Some days you waited until after dinner. I'd find myself getting nervous."
She took a step toward him. "You waited each day for me to tell you I loved you?"
He could tell from her expression that she was pleased with his confession. "Will you marry me?" he asked her in a fervent whisper. He'd leaned down until he was almost touching her forehead. "I'll get down on one knee if you want me to, Sara. I won't like it," he added in a rush of honesty. "But I'll do it. Please marry me."
She had never seen her husband so rattled. Telling her what was in his heart was obvious torture for him. It made her love him all the more, of course. "Nathan, we're already married, remember?"
Their audience was enthralled. The couple staring so lovingly into each other's eyes was such a romantic spectacle. Women dabbed at their eyes with their husbands' handkerchiefs.
Nathan had forgotten all about the other guests. He was desperately trying to get his plan completed so he could take Sara home.