In the space of those long, unbearable minutes Nathan learned how to pray. He felt as unskilled as an atheist, couldn't remember a single prayer from childhood days, and so ended up simply begging God's mercy.
How he needed her.
The ride over to her mother's residence wasn't quite as traumatic for Sara. She wasn't in a panic because she knew she had enough time to get to her mother first. Her father would have to go to his brother's townhouse. That ride would take him at least twenty minutes. Then he'd have to spend at least fifteen more minutes working his brother into a rage for the injustices dealt to him. Assuming that Henry would certainly be in the throes of his daily hangover, it would take him time to clear his head and get dressed.
There was also the oddly comforting fact that surely in that amount of time Nathan would put the pieces together and figure out she wasn't in the washroom. She knew he'd come after her.
Don't give up on me. His whispered command once again intruded upon her thoughts. She immediately tried to get angry over the insulting demand. How dare he think she'd given up on him. How dare he…
She couldn't work herself up into a proper fury, for in her heart she wasn't at all certain she had the right to be outraged. Had she given up on him? No, of course not, she told herself. The simple fact was that Nathan didn't love her.
He had shown her consideration, though. She'd give him that much. She remembered how he'd rubbed her back when she'd been in such embarrassing agony with her monthly cramps. His touch had been so gentle, so soothing.
He was a gentle lover, too. Not that he'd ever given her loving words when he was caressing her. But he'd shown her kindness, patience, and never once had she truly been afraid of him. Never once.
But he didn't love her.
He'd spent long hours teaching her so many little things he thought she needed to know to become self-sufficient. She thought it was because he didn't want to watch out for her. And while she did consider it her duty to protect those she loved, like her mother, she left the task of her own protection to her husband.
Like her mother…
Dear God, Nora had been right. Without realizing it Sara had been following in her mother's path. She had been determined to become dependent on her husband. If Nathan had turned out to be a cruel, selfish man like her father, would Sara have learned how to cringe whenever he raised his voice to her?
She shook her head. No, she would never allow any man to terrorize her. Nathan had made her realize her own strength. She could survive alone, and she certainly could stand up for herself.
He hadn't taught her how to defend herself because he didn't want to be bothered with the chore of watching out for her. He just didn't want anything to happen to her.
He was a kind man.
Sara burst into tears. Why couldn't he love her?
Don't give up on me. If he didn't love her, why did he care if she gave up on him or not?
Sara was so consumed with her thoughts, she didn't realize the carriage had stopped until Caine's driver shouted down to her.
She asked the driver to wait, then hurried up the steps.
The butler, a new man hired by her father, told her that both her mother and her sister had gone out for the afternoon.
Sara didn't believe him. She pushed her way past the servant and hurried up the stairs to the bedroom level to see for herself.
The butler sniffed at her lack of manners and retired to the back of the house.
The bedrooms were empty. Sara was at first relieved, then she realized she would have to find her mother before either of the Winchester men did. She went through the stack of invitations on top of her mother's writing table, but none gave her a clue as to the afternoon activities.
She decided to go back downstairs and force the information out of the servants. Surely one of them knew where her mother had gone.
Sara had just reached the landing when the front door opened. She thought it was her mother returning home and started down the steps. She stopped midway when Uncle Henry strutted into the foyer.
He saw her at once. The sneer on his face made her stomach lurch.
"Father went directly to you with his anger, didn't he?" she called out, contempt evident in her voice. "I knew he would," she added. "It's the only thing he's predictable about. He thinks he's so cunning to let his drunken brother dole out the punishment whenever he's upset. Father's waiting at White's, isn't he?"
Her uncle's eyes narrowed into slits. "Your mother should have her tongue cut out for turning against her husband. This isn't your business, Sara. Get out of my way. I'm going to have a word with your mother."
Sara shook her head. "I won't let you speak to her," she shouted. "Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. If I have to force Mother, I will, but she's going to leave London. A nice visit with her sister will be just the thing. She might even realize she doesn't want to come back here again. God, I hope so. Mother deserves a little joy in her life. I'm going to see that she gets it."
Henry kicked the door shut behind him. He knew better than to strike Sara, for he remembered the threat her husband had made when he'd walked into the tavern to get his bride.
"Go back to the cur you're married to," he shouted. "Victoria," he added in a screech. "Get down here. I'm wanting a word with you."
"Mother isn't here. Now you get out. The sight of you makes me ill."
Henry started toward the steps. He stopped when he spotted the brass umbrella stand in the corner. He was too furious to consider the consequences. The chit needed to learn a lesson, he thought to himself. Just one good hit to rid her of her insolence.
He reached for the ivory-tipped walking stick. Just one good hit…
Chapter Sixteen
She damn near killed him.
Tortured screams echoed into the street. The carriage hadn't come to a complete stop before Nathan jumped to the pavement and started up the steps. The god-awful screaming made him crazed with fear for his Sara-so crazed, in fact, that he didn't stop to notice it was a man's voice making all the noise. He didn't stop to open the door, either. He went through it. The frame bounded off his shoulder and landed with a thud on Henry Winchester's head. The heavy piece of wood muffled some of the louder cries.
Nathan wasn't at all prepared for the sight he came upon. He was so stunned, he stopped dead in his tracks. Caine and Sir Richards crashed into his back. Caine let out a low grunt. He felt as though he'd just run into a block of steel. Both he and Sir Richards recovered their balance and moved to the side to see what held Nathan transfixed.
It was difficult for the men to take in. Henry Winchester was shriveled up in a fetal position on the floor in the center of the large foyer. His hands were clutching his groin. The man was literally writhing about in agony, and when he rolled over their way Sir Richards and Caine immediately noticed his bloody nose.
Nathan was staring at Sara. She was standing at the bottom of the steps. She looked thoroughly composed, absolutely beautiful, and completely unharmed.
She was all right. The bastard hadn't gotten to her. Yes, she was all right. Nathan kept repeating that fact inside his mind in an attempt to calm down.
It didn't work. His hands were shaking. He decided he needed to hear her tell him she was all right before he could start breathing normally again.
"Sara?" Nathan whispered her name in such a hoarse whisper, he doubted she could hear him above the racket her Uncle Henry was making. He tried again. "Sara? Are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
The anguish in her husband's voice was almost her undoing. Tears filled her eyes, and she realized that Nathan was just as misty. The look on his face made her heart ache. He looked so… scared, so vulnerable… so loving.