Five

Village regarded the firm resolve in his son's eyes and met it with a harsh stare.

Listen to me well Edward he said in a low voice. She cannot love you.

I fail to see how you could know that, sir. Goddamn it, son.

All she wants is your money and your title. Edward felt a rage welling up within him. It was unlike anything he had ever known.

She loves me, he bit out.

You will never know if she loves you.

The Billionaire slammed his hands

down on his desk for emphasis.

Never.

I know it now, Edward said in a low voice.

What is it about this girl?

Why her?

Why not one of the dozens you have met in America?

Edward shrugged helplessly.

I don't know.

She brings out the best in me, I suppose.

With her by my side, I can do anything.

Good God, his father snapped.

How did I raise a son who spouts such romantic drivel?

"I that this conversation is pointless, Edward said stiffly, taking a step toward the door. the Billionaire sighed.

Edward doesn't leave.

Edward turned back around, quite unable to show his father the disrespect of

countermanding a direct request.

Edward, please listen to me.

You must marry within yours.

That is the only way you will ever be sure that you were not married for your money and position.

It has been my experience that women of the ton are quite interested in marrying for money and position.

Yes, but it is different.

Edward thought that this was a rather weak argument, and he said so.

His father raked his hand through his hair.

How can this girl know what she feels for you? How could she help but be dazzled by your title, your wealth?

Father, she is not like that.

Edward crossed his arms.

And I will marry her.

You will be making the biggest Not another word! Edward exploded.

It was the first time he had ever raised

his voice to his father.

He turned to leave the room.

Tell her I've cut you off without a farthing! Village yelled.

See if she'll have you then.

See if she loves you when you have nothing. Edward turned, his eyes narrowing ominously. Are you telling me that I have been disinherited?

He asked, his voice chillingly soft.

You're perilously close to it.

Have I or have I not?

Edward's tone demanded an answer.

You may very well be.

Do not cross me on this measure.

That isn't an answer.

The Billionaire forward his eyes steady on Edward's.

If you were to tell her that marriage to her would almost certainly result in a vast loss of fortune, you would not be lying."

Edward hated his father at that moment.

I see.

"Do you?

Yes. And then almost as an after thought Sir.

It was the last time he addressed his father with that title of respect.

Sarah slammed awake,sitting bolt upright in the space of a second.

Sarah! came to the hissed whisper from her window.

Edward?

She crawled down the bed and peered out.

I need to talk with you.

It's urgent.

Sarah glanced around the room, quickly judged that the household was fast asleep, and said, Very well.

Come in.

If Edward thought it odd that she was inviting him into her room something she had never before done he did not mention it.

He climbed through the window and sat down on her bed.

Oddly he did not attempt to kiss her or pull her into his arms his usual methods of meeting her when they were

alone.

Edward, at is wrong?

He didn't say anything at first, just stared out the window at the north star.

She put her hand on his sleeve.

Edward?

We must elope, he said baldly.

What?

"I have analyzed the situation from every direction.

There is no other solution.

Sarah touched his arm.

He always approached life so scientifically, treating every decision as a problem to be solved. Falling in love with her was probably the only illogical thing he'd ever done in his life, and it made her love him all the more.

What is wrong, Edward?

she asked softly.

My father has cut me off.

Are you certain?

Edward looking into her eyes stared into those fabulous blue depths, and then made a decision he wasn't proud of.

Yes, he said, I'm certain, neglecting to mention that his father had only said, Almost certainly. But he had to be sure.

He didn't think it as possible, but what if Edward as more dazzled by the possessions than she was by the Edward able.

How could a father do such a thing?

Sarah, you must listen to me.

He grabbed her hands In his, clutching them with a ferocious intensity.

It doesn't matter.

You are more important to me than the money. You are everything.

"But your birthright…

How can I ask you to give that up?

It is my choice to make, not yours, and I choose you.

Sarah felt tears stinging her eyes.

She had never dreamed that she might

cause Edward to lose so much.

And she knew how important the respect of his father was to him.

He had worked his whole life to impress him, always trying and always coming up just a little bit short.

You must promise me one thing,

she whispered.

Anything, Dior.

You know I would do anything for you.

You must promise me that you will try to make amends with your father after the marriage.

I She swallowed, hardly able to believe that she was putting a condition on her acceptance of his proposal.

I won't marry you unless you do.

I couldn't live with myself knowing that I was the cause of your rift.

A strange expression crossed Edward's face.

She is stubborn.

I didn't y you have to succeed, she said quickly. Just that you have to try.

Edward lifted her hands to his lips.

Very well, my lady.

I give you my vow.

She offered him a smile that pretended to be stern.

I'm not 'your lady' yet."

Edward only grinned and kissed her hand again. I would leave with you tonight if I could, he said, but I will need a bit of time to amass some funds and supplies.

I don't intend to drag you across the countryside with nothing but

the clothes on our backs.

She touched his cheek.

You're such a planner.

"I don't like leaving anything to chance."

"I know.

It's one of the things I love best about you. She smiled sheepishly.

"I'm forever forgetting things.

When my mother was alive she always said that I would forget my head if I didn't have a neck."

That prompted a smile.

Edward said I'm glad you have a neck.

I'm rather fond of it.

Don't be silly, she said. I was merely trying to say that it is nice to know that I'll have you to keep my life in order.

He leaned forward and brushed the gentlest of kisses on her lips.

It's all I want to do.

Just keep you happy.

Sarah looked up at it with damp eyes and curled her face into the crook of his shoulder.

Edward let his chin rest on the top of her head. Can you be ready in three days?

Sarah nodded, and they spent the next hour making plans.

Edward shivered against the night wind, checking his pocket watch for what

must have been the twentieth time.

Sarah was five minutes late.

Nothing to be alarmed about; she was ed and was frequently five or ten minutes late for their outings.

But this was no ordinary outing.

Edward had planned their elopement to the last detail.

He'd taken his curricula from his father's stables.

He would have preferred a more practical vehicle for the long journey to Europe, but the curricle belonged to him, not his father, and Edward didn't want to feel beholden.

Sarah was to meet him here, at the end of the road leading to her cottage.

They had decided that she would have to slip out on her own.

It would be far too noisy if Edward drive his curricle to his, and he didn't want to leave it unattended.

It would only take five minutes for Sarah to make her way to him, and the area had always been quite safe.

But damn it, where was she?

Sarah scanned her room, checking for any last item she might have missed. She was running late.

Edward expected her five minutes ago, but at the last minutes decided that she might need a warmer dress, so she had to repack her

bag.

It wasn't every day a young woman left home in the middle of the night.

She ought to at least be certain that she packed the right belongings.

The miniature!

Sarah smacked herself on her forehead as she realized that she couldn't possibly leave without the small painting of her mother.

Mrs.George had had two done, and Mr.George had always said that Sarah and Zara would each take one hen they married so they would never forget their mother.

They were tiny paintings; Sarah's fit in the palm of her hand.

Still clutching her satchel, Sarah tiptoed out of her room and into the hall.

She made her way to the sitting room, silently crossing the rug to the end table

where the small portrait sat.

She snatched it up, stuffed it into her bag, and then turned around to go back to her room, where she planned to leave through the window.

But as she turned, her bag connected with a brass lamp, sending it crashing to

the floor.

Within seconds the Reverend Mr.George came storming through the doorway.

What he devil is going on here?

His eyes took in Sarah, who was frozen with fright in the middle of the sitting room.

Why are you awake,

Sarah?

And why are you dressed?"

"I Sarah shook with fear, unable to force a word from her mouth.

The Carpenter spied her bag.

What is that?"

In two steps he crossed the room and snatched it from her.He yanked out clothing, a Bible…And then his hand rested on the miniature.

You're running away, he whispered.

He looked up at her, staring at her as if he could not believe that one of his daughters would possibly disobey im.

You're running away with that man.

"No, Dad!" she cried. "No!"

But she had never been a very good liar.

"By God!"

Mr.George shouted.

You'll think twice before you disobey me again. Dad, II couldn't finish the sentence, for her father's hand had come across her face with such blinding force that she was knocked to the ground.

When she looked up she saw Zara standing motionless in the doorway, her expression petrified.

Sarah shot her sister an entreating look.

Zara cleared her throat.

Papa, she said in a gentling tone.

Is something amiss?

Your sister has chosen to disobey me, he snarled.

Now she will learn the

consequences.

Zara cleared her throat again as if that were the only way she could summon

the courage to speak. Dad, I'm sure there has been a grave misunderstood.

Why don't I take Sarah to her room?"

"Silence! Neither girl made a sound.

After an interminable pause, the Carpenter grabbed Sarah's arm and roughly hauled her to her feet. You," he said with a vicious yank, "are not going anywhere tonight.

He dragged her into her room and shoved her onto her bed.

Zara followed fearfully behind, hovering in the corner of Sarah's chamber.