Read Online The Seduction of Sarah Marks by Kathleen Bittner Roth - Free Book Online

shook her head. “At least, I don’t recall.”
    “Oh, my, you do have amnesia, don’t you? More tea?”
    “With cream this time, please.”
    “Lady Stanhope was my dear friend. She’s dead now. Toes tipped up in a monastery out in the high desert. Two lumps, dear. You don’t need the other in your cheek.” Mum plopped the sugar into Sarah’s cup.
    “The gel was awarded a grand pension—which she flagrantly enjoyed. We were both deplorably bored with our stiff lives, she no longer involved in politics, and I with a passel of brats and a husband as bland as morning porridge, so we took off for parts unknown.”
    Sarah’s eyes widened. “Oh, my, you left your family?”
    Mum shrugged. “What was I to do with nannies about, sit and watch the grass grow?” Her eyes squeezed shut again with that infectious smile that brought roses to her cheeks.
    Eastleigh chuckled. “Might I remind you, Mum, your first husband had passed away—before you had any children—prior to you sailing off with Lady Hester.”
    Mum regarded him with a brief quizzical look. “The nerve of him dying so young.” She turned to Sarah. “Well, anyway, off we went by sea, eventually heading for Constantinople, but we never made it after our ship crashed on the rocks in Rhodes.”
    “Oh,” Sarah jumped. “How dreadful.”
    “Not at all. We lost every stitch of clothing and had to borrow the Turks’. That’s when we discovered how we loved the way they dressed—the men, that is. Lady Hester never wore anything but robes, turbans, and slippers thereafter. We tramped about in the desert for several years, slept in the tents of Bedouin sheikhs, traipsed through Turkish palaces, visited a Pasha or three, and learned to smoke water pipes. As for what happened within the tents, well, that remains private, if you will.”
    The color ran high in Sarah’s cheeks.
    Mum turned to Eastleigh. “I do believe I’ve shocked the gel.”
    “And I do believe you intended to,” he responded in a monotone.
    Despite the blush to her cheeks, Sarah boldly regarded him. “Lady Hester Stanhope and Mum running around the desert in men’s clothing? Humph . They would not have survived a day.”
    A corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ve seen the letters from Lady Hester. Perhaps you’d like to study them since your…ah…interest is duly piqued?”
    She said nothing while those plump lips of hers parted. Whatever was passing through her mind—or body—he’d bet it had to do with him. Damn if his own body didn’t respond the only way it knew how—flaming and stupidly.
    Hemphill leaned forward. “I do believe Miss Marks is fatigued, Mum. She’s endured a long trip and shouldn’t be overtaxed. She needs the privacy of her chambers for the rest of the evening, including dinner served in her room. Agreed, Miss Marks?”
    Sarah looked down at her clothing and frowned.
    “Not to worry,” Mum said. “Augie’s youngest sister grew so rapidly over the winter, she left some of her wardrobe behind. We’ll send a lady’s maid handy with a needle to your room should anything require adjusting.”
    “Augie?” Sarah’s lips pursed as if to fight a smile.
    Eastleigh rolled his eyes.
    “Why, yes, Prince Augustus here,” Mum said. “But I’ve called him Augie since he was in leading strings.”
    Augie. Damn if he didn’t detest that name. “Which is precisely why I think of myself as Eastleigh, and nothing else.”
    Sarah mouthed the words “Prince Augustus” with quivering lips. “Of course, he’d be a prince since you are the Queen Mother.”
    “Indeed,” Mum responded. “And tomorrow we shall begin your lessons in properly greeting the queen. Since I sent word of Augie’s homecoming, the entourage is sure to arrive soon.”
    Eastleigh grunted. “Like locusts.”
    Mum rose and turned to Sarah. “Come, dear, let me see you to your rooms. But first you might like to view…”
    Eastleigh stepped around the table. “No, Mum. Miss Marks can