If I Fall Read Online Free PDF Page A

father countered.
    In her mind’s eye, Sarah could see her father. He was likely sitting on the edge of her mother’s favorite stuffed settee, looking down at his interlaced fingers, twiddling his thumbs the way he always did when he was thinking.
    “I don’t know if she’s ready for this. I don’t know that I am.”
    Sarah’s heart, dampened under layers of her own effort, went out to her father. Outside of herself, he had been the one most hurt by the Event.
    Her father had loved Jason. They became acquainted as members of the Historical Society, and Lord Forrester (father of three daughters) had been practically giddy at the idea of not only a son-in-law, but also one with whom he could converse for hours and hours about antique pediments and arcane painting techniques.
    “Oh, my darling.” Her mother’s voice came through the thin door, placating her husband. “Maybe we can find a way to take Sarah’s—and your—mind off the troubles.”
    “I would have him removed from the Historical Society if I could,” her father stated, his voice muffled by what Sarah had to assume was her mother’s shoulder. “But I cannot allow personal feeling to belie—”
    “I know, I know,” she soothed. “But for now, let us be thankful that Rayne had the good grace to remove himself to the Continent. And let us hope he—”
    And that was the point that Sarah decided she had heard enough.
    Because as hard as it was to think and hear about her parents’ disappointments in her—it was infinitely more difficult to dwell on the Duke of Rayne, where he was, and what he was doing.
    She stood up abruptly and crossed the foyer as fast as her feet would carry her to the library, without concern that her footfalls were too loud or rapid to be mistaken for a servant’s. Without care for the eyes of the footman following her. And without any idea for whom she would meet inside the library’s doors.
    “Oh my God!” Sarah cried, coming to a sudden halt.
    “I’m afraid not, Miss Forrester,” the elegant figure that lounged with a volume of poetry in her hand said. “It’s just me.”
    “L–Lady Worth,” Sarah breathed, as breeding won out over shock, and she curtsied. Phillippa, Lady Worth, the unofficial but undeniable reigning leader of the ton, did not smile and stand in return. Instead, she flipped the book shut and regarded Sarah with a bemused expression.
    “Oh, so you do know who I am. I was beginning to wonder if you remembered me at all from last Season.”
    “Lady Worth, of course I remember you,” Sarah replied, blushing to the roots of her hair. “I attended your garden party last year, and of course you were at…”
my engagement party
, she stopped herself from staying. Instead she shook herself. “I apologize, let me fetch my parents. It is quite odd hours for calling, but—”
    “Yes, I am aware it is quite odd hours for calling,” Lady Worth replied as she stood to her full height. She was dressed in easily the most beautiful evening gown Sarah had ever seen, but to Lady Worth, it was likely just her Tuesday ensemble. “Your butler may seem stern, but entry was fairly simple. I just told him I had been here for your supper party and had left a reticule behind. He allowed me to search on my own.” Lady Worth suddenly frowned. “I am going to recommend to your mother that you reinforce the need for security with your staff. After all, I could have been a thief—or worse yet, a newspaper reporter.”
    “My mother,” Sarah repeated, latching onto a solid form throughout Lady Worth’s bewildering speech. “Yes, allow me to fetch her, she’s just across the hall…”
    “Never mind that.” Lady Worth waved her hand in dismissal of the idea. “I have come here to see you.”
    “Me?” Sarah squeaked.
    “Yes, child. For heaven’s sake, when did you become such a mimic? Last Season you seemed to have more brains that that.”
    Sarah, not having an answer to that, prudently remained