Page 10 of A Kiss Of Lies

Lily pushed herself out of Sarah’s arms, went to the window, and looked up at the sun. Sarah could feel herself close to tears. Evidently Lily had thought she’d lose touch with her parents if she left Canada.

Just then the door opened and Lord Markham entered. Lily turned and beamed him a smile, then raced across the room and flung her arms around his waist.

“Mrs. Cooper says my parents will still be with me, even when I go to England.”

The side of his mouth that was still mobile curled down as a frown crossed his features. Sarah hurriedly explained.

“Lily was worried that her parents wouldn’t hear her prayers if she left Canada. I explained that in heaven they can hear you wherever you are.”

For such a large man, Lord Markham moved with an agile grace and dignity. He crouched so that he was at eye level with Lily. “Is this what you have been worried about?”

The little girl nodded.

He stroked a finger down her cheek. “Sweetie, why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“I thought you might be angry if I didn’t want to leave York.”

“I’d never be angry with you. You can ask me for anything and, if it is within my power, I will give it. I’d never lie to you, and I will always do everything I can to make you happy.”

Lily’s bottom lip trembled. “You promise? You promise you won’t take me to England and then—” A small sob escaped her. “And then, if I’m naughty, leave me all alone?”

He closed his eyes and hugged her tightly. “Never, never, never!” he declared with gusto. “I would never leave you, no matter what you did.” He drew back and held her at arm’s length, looking directly into her eyes. “Your father looked after me when I had no one. I intend to raise you and love you as if you were my own daughter. With every bone in my body, I promise to look after you always.” His perfect profile faced Sarah, and he smiled a bone-melting smile. “I’m Christian Trent, the fifth Earl of Markham, and I am giving you my word as a gentleman. Will you come with me to England and do me the very great honor of becoming my ward?”

Lily flung her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “Yes. I want to come to England with you.” Lily lifted her head and sent a shy smile across to Sarah. “As long as Mrs. Cooper can come with us too.”

Lord Markham, still crouched with Lily in his arms, smiled over Lily’s head. “That would be perfect,” he uttered.

He kept holding Lily and smiling at Sarah. Lightness entered his eyes, and their habitual sadness was banished for a moment. The sun caught him, and his hair shone as black as coal, his eyes as green and as bright as the first time she’d seen him in her father’s ballroom. He looked serene—and utterly gorgeous.

She saw his shoulders tremble under Lily’s hold, and the emotion of the moment overcame her. Sarah’s heart gave a wild flutter, then a couple of extra beats, and then it began to pound hard in her chest.

Oh, no. Please. No! It cannot be!She hoped it was merely that Lord Markham’s touch of kindness and warmth had engaged her senses sufficiently to make her forget who and what she was. She prayed that her childhood infatuation was not rearing its silly head again. It would ruin everything.

But deep down, Sarah knew it was more than infatuation.

For who had the strength to turn down a chance at realizing a girlhood fantasy?

His scars meant nothing. Lord Markham was all man, strong, vibrant, and honorable, and he was here, right in front of her—the very man she’d dreamed about for years. As she grew into womanhood, she’d assiduously followed his military career. She’d found the scandal surrounding his exploits as one of the infamous Libertine Scholars positively titillating. She’d envied his conquests. Dreamed of being his . . .

That was until her father had forced her into marriage—forced her into hell.

And so when she’d read the advertisement for a governess for the Earl of Markham’s ward, she’d known it was fate. Fate had brought her to him, at last.

He had always been her hero.

She had always kept an image of him in her head, to blank out the horrors of her life.

Even when her life was at its absolute worst, even when she had thought she could endure no more, even when, finally, she had become a criminal on the run . . .

* * *

It was after midnight, and still Sarah couldn’t sleep. She’d moved into the Pearsons’ house that very afternoon. Lord Markham had suggested it would be of benefit if she took up residency immediately, since the house had to be packed before they departed for England in two days’ time.

There was no doubt in her mind that those chasing her would not imagine she’d flee to England. If they did, they’d think she’d flee to her father. She’d definitely not run to her father. She hoped they had no idea she’d fled to Canada.

When her father had so cavalierly handed her over to the monster that was Peter Dennett, he’d ceased to exist for her. But returning to the home of her birth, England, was a calculated risk.

If she stayed in Dorset, remaining quietly in the background in her disguise as a governess, no one would find her. She bet her husband’s henchmen hadn’t even learned she’d made it to Canada.

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