The Wife He Always Wanted by Cheryl Ann Smith Page B

acquaintances to keep her company.
    Most people thought her odd, and some thought her too poor to befriend. The rest were just too kind not to offer her a chicken, a bucket of milk, or an occasional conversation.
    Never social, now she’d been thrust into a world so unlike what she knew. The whole was simply overwhelming to contemplate. And so far she’d only met Lady Seymour.
    Lud, she was a Harrington now, with all the expectations behind the name.
    Her hands began to shake. What little food she’d ingested turned to stone in her belly. Fearing the rising rush of panic, she quickly excused herself and hurried to her room, crossed the space, and stared out the window to the street below.
    It was not acceptable to break in front of the countess. Showing weakness would be the ultimate humiliation.
    From what she’d learned about the family thus far, Harrington women had to be strong, confident, and charming! Could she meet those lofty standards? Not in fifty years!
    The marriage would never be successful. Perhaps she could convince Gabriel to return her to the cottage with a small monthly stipend before they grew to hate each other.
    They simply did not suit.
    Unfortunately, the countess followed her up before she could gather the courage to go off in search of her husband and make the offer to leave London. With a knock on the door, Lady Seymour broke her privacy. Sarah brushed tears from her cheeks and turned away from the window.
    “Come sit with me.” Gabriel’s mother sat on the bed. Sarah joined her. The Lady peered into her face for a moment then spoke. “Gabriel told me a few things about your life. After your father’s death and your brother’s disappearance, you spent years trying to survive. According to Gabriel, you were clinging to your existence by the tips of your fingernails.”
    “I was.” Sarah straightened. “I suspect that had my brother realized the condition I was in, he would have returned home straightaway.”
    “Perhaps. Still, he never should have left you to fend for yourself with only an elderly aunt to watch over you. You’ve been terribly neglected.”
    The Lady did have a point. “My aunt had meager funds, and my brother sent some money, though not nearly enough for my upkeep. And our village was so small that prospects for marriage were nearly nonexistent.” She decided to keep her worries about Mister Campbell and his intentions to herself. “Had Gabriel not come for me, I truly do not know how much longer I could have survived.”
    Both women knew what may have happened to Sarah in that situation. Women without prospects often met grim fates.
    “How old are you, Sarah?” Lady Seymour asked.
    “Nineteen.” She felt so much older.
    “I did not realize you were so young.” The countess sighed. “Have you ever been to a ball, hosted a party, or danced?” Sarah shook her head. “The Ton will gobble you up should we foist you upon them in this condition. There is much work to do.”
    Lady Seymour patted her hand. “First, we shop. Tomorrow afternoon we will head to Bond Street and see you refitted from the skin out. Then there will be lessons and more lessons until you have the skills to navigate society.”
    Sarah’s hands shook again. The countess took them both in her warm grip. The Lady’s eyes showed good humor. “Do not worry, Sarah. We will take one tiny step at a time.”
    After the countess excused herself, Sarah slumped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Lud. Society? Lessons?
    What if Gabriel did not agree to send her back to the cottage? What if he wanted her here, at his side, forever?
    She could be trapped in this marriage for eternity.
    Was she ready to be a Harrington? The idea of being launched on society terrified her. Yet, the idea of cowering in her cottage, rather than facing the challenges ahead of her, was worse. When had she become so fearful of life?
    There was something about changing herself from country mouse to Lady that appealed