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from a hint of delicate colour. No. Sarah Russell would never take the eye of Lord Joshua Faringdon.

      So she expressed her sentiments with a wry smile and typical honesty. ‘Judith … Lord Faringdon is hardly likely to look at me, now is he? Particularly if an attractive woman such as the Countess is more than willing to accommodate his advances. I am not beautiful. I have no talent or skill beyond the average with which to attract his attention. He will see me as the housekeeper, a servant below stairs. Which is exactly what I shall be. That is if he notices me at all! And if the Countess of Wexford moves on to hunt in other pastures, as you put it, there will always be the ladies of Covent Garden to claim your brother’s attention.’ She silenced Judith’s objections with a little shake of her head. ‘His conduct in the house will have no influence on my life whatsoever. He can have any number of mistresses. He can hold orgies if he wishes. It is simply that this position is too advantageous for me to reject!’

       Chapter Three

      Within the week, before she could weaken and change her mind, Sarah saw to the packing up of her few possessions and those of her son, and their transportation over the short distance to Lord Joshua Faringdon’s town house in Hanover Square. She herself followed immediately. Hugged and kissed by Judith, they shed a few tears because, although the Countess of Painscastle promised to come and see her friend, and was lavish in invitations that Sarah should bring herself and John to visit in Grosvenor Square any time she wished, both were well aware of the social divide that Sarah was creating by her wilful decision. But go she would. As she stood on the shallow flight of steps leading to the imposing front door, flanked by decorative ironwork, John’s hand clasped firmly in hers, she wondered what the future would hold for her here, whether she would ever find the acceptance and depth of happiness that she yearned for. But for now she would settle for satisfaction in her new position and a sense of redemption.

      Sarah discovered other members of the new household already in occupation and hard at work. The house, elegant and spacious with well-proportioned rooms and tasteful furnishings, had been closed up for more than a year, furniture shrouded in dust sheets and shutters closed. Newly appointed footmen and maids were already cleaning and organising under the strict eye of Judith’s butler Matthews, who had been sent to cast his experienced eye over the proceedings. For the moment, Sarah was pleased to leave the reins in his capable hands.

      Sarah first took herself to the kitchen and sculleries to discover and make the acquaintance of the ruler of this little kingdom. Mrs Beddows was a small, thin, nervy woman who had already organised her domain to her exacting standards. Fortunately she appeared not to mind a small boy and sat him down at the scrubbed table, with strict instructions for him not to get under her feet, to drink a glass of milk whilst she cross-examined his mama. After half an hour, Sarah found herself in possession of detailed knowledge of every maid and footman under her authority and decided that she and Mrs Beddows would get along.

      Instinct warned her that it would be a different tale with the new butler. Mr Alfred Millington, he informed her within condescending tones and a smooth smile. Former butler at Orford Place to the Marquis and Marchioness of Gainsford. Sarah did not like him. And why was he no longer engaged at Orford Place? Opinionated and superior, conscious of his own elevated status as butler in a gentleman’s establishment, he looked down his thin nose at her. And he made it plain that he did not like small boys. Sarah adopted a cool professional smile and determined to try hard to get on with this individual—she did not desire to make enemies unnecessarily—but he would bear watching. The rest of the new servants were still nameless faces. It would all fall into place eventually.

      The house gradually began to come to life as dust and covers were removed. Oriental silk curtains and hangings were brushed and washed and fires were lit in cold rooms. It was sparsely furnished as yet, but perhaps his lordship would do something to remedy that if he planned to remain in London for any length of time. Sarah walked round her new responsibility, enjoying the stillness and order that they were creating, at the same time trying to absorb some sense of the absent owner. There was nothing. No personal possessions, no atmosphere of anyone having lived here. Even the paintings on the walls were impersonal, mostly dark rural scenes or lurid representations of Greek myths in heavily ornate frames. The family portraits, although clearly of Faringdons with their dark hair and well-marked brows, were from a distant age when the sitters wore whalebone stays and lace cravats. Even a farthingale was in evidence. Nothing to indicate the character or the preferences of Lord Joshua Faringdon. It was as if he had never lived here and Sarah, standing within the splendour of the polished wood and the leather-bound books in the library, had to admit to a disappointment. Judith’s brother interested her, despite his wicked ways. Foolish without doubt but she could not deny it.

      The rooms set aside for her own use, high under the eaves, had traditionally been used as nursery and schoolroom, but were surprisingly spacious. A small private sitting room and bedchamber for herself, a smaller room for her son and then the schoolroom. Lacking the elegance and comfort of the family rooms of course, but not unacceptable. Beyond it were two rooms cleaned and prepared for the imminent arrival of Miss Celestine Faringdon. She inspected them all with John in tow.

      ‘Do we live here now, Mama?’ He bounced on the bed that would be his own.

      ‘Yes. Will you like it?’ She ran a finger along the edge of a small table to check for dust.

      He thought for a moment. ‘Yes. Mrs Beddows gave me a sugared biscuit. She said that when Lord Faringdon comes there will be horses in the stable and I can go and see them.’

      ‘I expect she is right.’ Sarah smiled. Horses were her son’s present passion.

      ‘Has the little girl come yet?’ John dashed before her into the schoolroom. ‘From the country?’

      No.’ Celestine was expected any day. ‘We must try to make her welcome. She will not know anyone in London. Think what it must be like, if everyone is a stranger.’

      Opening a cupboard and finding it empty, shutting it again, John came to stand beside Sarah, suddenly anxious. ‘Will you be her mama as well?’

      ‘No.’ She ruffled his hair, which made him jump out of reach with a squawk. ‘I shall teach her—and you, both of you together. Her papa will soon be here.’

      ‘Where is her mama? Is she still in France?’ Sarah raised her brows at this evidence that her son listened in to the conversations around him. He was beginning to grow up. It surprised her that she felt a little sad at the prospect.

      ‘No. Her mama is dead.’

      ‘Like my papa.’ John pushed a pile of books neatly together, simple acceptance in his voice.

      ‘Yes. Like your papa.’ Sarah felt a sudden rush of loneliness to meld with the sadness. Then took herself to task. This was no good. She would soon be sinking in a fit of melancholia! They now had everything she had dreamed of. A home and a paid position that would allow them to live dependent on no one for charity. She had still to hear what her sister Thea might have to say to this change in her circumstances. As horrified as Judith and far more outspoken, if Sarah knew anything about it. But she did not care. Self-esteem was a very important thing, and, whatever Judith might say to the contrary, the need to make recompense to the family she had almost helped to destroy. The whole episode had left a stain, ugly and hauntingly persistent, on her soul. But now she nodded as she watched John climb on to the window seat to peer down into the Square, laughing excitedly at his height from the ground and the sudden swooping proximity of a flock of sparrows. Yes. She had done the right thing. She held out her hand to John.

      ‘Let us go and look at Celestine’s room, and see that it has been made ready for her.’

      For better or worse, she was now a housekeeper.

      Meanwhile, in Paris Lord Joshua Faringdon was making his own preparations to transfer his life to London, in the company, as advised by Wycliffe, of the Countess of Wexford. It would have surprised his sister beyond measure to know that her brother found the highly decorative lady to be everything that Judith had described to Sarah. Possessor of a beautiful face, an elegant figure, a range

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