Disrobed and Dishonored by Louise Allen Page A

offered herself for money if she said one word of it.
    So Sarah confronted her father with the fact that she had discovered her betrothed was the sort of man who would ravish defenseless young women—and Papa had dismissed the matter.
    ‘Nonsense,’ he blustered, slapping his newspaper down on his desk in irritation. ‘Some young trollop looking to earn herself a few shillings, I’ve no doubt. Asking for it.’
    ‘But no, Papa! This is a respectable girl.’ She did not dare tell him who, not with the memory of the housemaid turned off without a character when Cousin William’s visit had left her pregnant. Her father was of the old school when it came to domestic discipline. ‘And even if it were the case that she was willing, you cannot expect me to marry a man of such loose morals.’
    ‘A lady ignores such matters. It is her duty to remain faithful, above reproach, and to raise her children. Her husband may seek diversion elsewhere—’
    ‘Diversion!’
    He scowled. ‘Diversion. It means nothing and no lady of refined mind should think of such things, let alone admit to knowing of them.’
    ‘I cannot possibly marry Sir Jeremy,’ she announced flatly.
    ‘You most certainly will, my girl! I’m not letting a good match like that slip through my fingers because of some missish scruples. You marry him—or I will find out who has been filling your head with this scurrilous nonsense and see they suffer for it. Do you understand me?’
    How could she find Mary a suitable new post, one where she would be safe from her father’s wrath? If she had been in London she could have gone to a good agency, given her glowing references, but here, deep in the country, such a plan would have to be conducted by letter and Papa insisted on her chaperone reading all her correspondence.
    And how she was going to be able to keep a civil tongue in her head over dinner she had no idea. She had stood outside the drawing room gathering her composure to enter when she heard the men talking inside.
    ‘Modest virtue, that is the thing about Miss Tatton,’ Sir Jeremy was saying. ‘The assurance that one is marrying a virgin of impeccable upbringing and not one of those flighty girls who live for nothing but their beaux and their parties. How precious is a lady’s purity! I searched long and hard before I was confident I had found such a prize.’
    The hypocrite valued only her virginity ? He debauched young women and yet he could say such things to her father who would smugly accept them?
    Sarah turned on her heel. ‘Tell Sir Hugh that I have a migraine and regret I will not be able to come down this evening,’ she said to the footman. The moment his back was turned she was away to the stables.
    Leaving the house for an hour or so at least gave her a chance to cool her temper, but what to do now? Fear was beginning to overcome the fury as her imagination took hold, presenting her with a vivid image of what life with Sir Jeremy would be like. Her instinct was to run, but that was pointless; how would she live?
    The question became academic as she rounded a corner and found herself staring down the barrel of a large horse pistol. ‘Stand and deliver.’
    A highwayman? They really said that? Sarah discovered her mouth was open and shut it. The figure confronting her was straight off any broadsheet telling the shocking stories of Dick Turpin or “Hell” Hawley. A big, ugly gray horse, a tricorne hat, a cloak thrown back over his shoulders despite the heat and a black mask covering the upper half his face.
    She dragged Sir Jeremy’s string of pearls over her head and held it out. He was welcome to them.
    ‘No, I don’t want those, sweetheart.’ His voice was amused, educated and deep; it seemed to resonate at the base of her spine. A gentleman gone to the bad?
    From somewhere she found her voice. ‘What do you want then?’
    ‘One kiss and a little token to show for it.’ He urged the horse up alongside her mare and she