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you to the carriage, for pity’s sake, or we shall be here all evening.” Her father then moved by the little gathering and out onto the pavement in front of the house. Sarah sagged visibly. The fire she had shown moments before had been extinguished by the careless words of the earl.
    “ Lady Sarah!” His words were quiet, unsure whether to give her a moment or to push her father’s point. “Would you like… mind…um…”
    She shook her head and lifted her bright gaze to his. “Would you be so kind as to carry me to the carriage, Your Grace?”
    Her father had hurt her with his dismissal of her desire to do things for herself.
    “I can wait,” he answered gruffly.
    “ You do not want to keep your guests waiting.”
    “ Our guests.”
    She nodded her acknowledgement of his concession.
    “The cold air is not good for my father’s cough. I think speed may be more important than my loss of dignity.”
    “ Being carried is not a loss of dignity. It shows strength that you are willing to accept help.”
    She snorted but held onto his arm as she passed her crutches to the butler. Then her gloved hand snaked around his neck. It was at that moment he noticed her hair. It was intricately styled with small pearls placed strategically through it and curls framing her pretty face.
    As he lifted her into his arms he felt a pang of longing. Was it just because he had a woman in his arms and that evoked memories of lovemaking or was it Sarah, in particular, who was having this effect ? He was a man after all, and she was dashed pretty underneath the barbed tongue, the frightful need for independence and her questionable morals regarding finding herself a suitor.
    He drew up beside the carriage , and she turned her head.
    “ Oh, you have a barouche too.”
    “ No. I bought a barouche. It seemed silly to have a high vehicle that would be troublesome for you. I got the lowest one they had and I sold the phaeton.”
    “ I see. That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”
    “ Common sense.” He placed her gently in the carriage, facing forward and opposite her father, accepted the crutches from the butler, handing them in to her then moving around the carriage to jump in the other side. He did not want her thinking he had been sentimental. It had been a practical decision.
    “ It was thoughtful of you to have a common sense approach to my infirmity,” she persisted. He scowled at her.
    “ Do not think a change of coach in any way means I am happy about being tricked into marriage.” He looked between Sarah and the earl, expecting a response. Sarah lifted an eyebrow, and the earl began to cough into his handkerchief. Damn.
    “ It is not your fault. It is the cool air,” she said. She must know he was now blaming himself. “Do you not see how desperate he must have been?” she hissed. He gazed at the gardens in the centre of Grosvenor Square rather than at Sarah or her father. Of course the man had to be desperate, but why had he dragged Nate into it? Why not some fat, balding old earl desperate for an heir?
    But he knew Sarah was better than that and deserved someone who would care for her, not just see her as a means to an end. Did Brackingham really think he deserved his daughter? Whatever Nate’s own impressions of the young woman, surely Brackingham loved Sarah. Perhaps the earl thought Nate was not a bad man. He would not mistreat her. Unfortunately the jury was still out on whether he should take a mistress when married.
    His conscience said no. He believed in fidelity in the marriage bed. But he had no idea what were Sarah’s capabilities in that area. How much could she feel? Would he be able to give her satisfaction? He was sure she would be able to give it to him , but if she could derive no real pleasure from their lovemaking it would be completely unfulfilling for both of them. And he was already chomping at the bit over the circumstances of this match. The last thing he wanted was to spend the rest of his