Sarah did not arrive that next afternoon.

Charles refused to force her into his presence, no matter that it left a physical pain in his gut. He had Barton confirm her welfare, but then let her remain absent. He then attempted to convince Henry to join him on a ride, but the idiot would not budge from the Drawing Room, insisting that he could not abandon Amelia in their game of whist. Caroline then coyly suggested he join she and Lavinia on a walk through the gardens, but at last John took pity on him. The two men had quickly escaped the piercing stare of Miss Croft and headed for a round of boxing.

An hour later, at last exhausted and more than a little bruised from his brother-in-law's fists, Charles landed himself in a chair as a footmen produced two refreshingly cold mugs of beer.

"You are much better at that than you used to be," John admitted with a wince as he rubbed at his ribs. Charles chuckled and sipped at his beer. John had never had the fortune to train while fighting for his life on the open sea.

"Your wife will be angry with me for abusing you past usefulness," Charles mocked but John shook his head.

"I am sure she will only be glad you've left that study of yours for an afternoon," said John, and Charles gave him a puzzled look.

"Oh come off it, Charles," John admonished breathlessly, "It is obvious to everyone that you've become obsessed with her," John finished before taking a sip of his beer.

"With Sarah?" Charles asked taking care to put a note of indifference in his voice.

"Yes, with 'Sarah'," John repeated, "We are all very glad to see you coming back to your old self, on that account no one can fault her for whatever her... companionship, has done to you," said John, only barely attempting delicacy, "But good Lord, Charles, she is a maid after all - you should be more discreet."

Charles stayed silent for a moment or two, considering the other man's words. Realization was coming to him quickly, and Henry's warning rang in his ears.

"Do you think any of the guests have noticed?" Charles asked carefully, leaning forward to stare into his mug.

"No, you mother and sisters always have some excuse for you, something about business and trouble in the war," John took another swig, "The usual things young ladies accept for excuses I suppose." Charles only nodded in response.

"No one faults you for finally allowing yourself some company," John revised a few moments later, in a kinder tone than he'd used before, "It's not as if you've a wife to betray or a string of ruined housemaids in your wake. I only caution you to be more discreet, Charles. We both know Richard always found a way," he added, referencing Richard's boundless appetite for female companions.

Charles nearly opened his mouth to tell John... to tell him what? That he had never been hoarding a housemaid, but an actual gentleman's daughter all along? That he kept her secret purely out of selfishness? That he was going to marry her, not ruin her?

"I will endeavor to be more careful," he said instead, his thoughts wrapped securely on the woman herself. He needed to move quickly or Henry would be correct in his fears. What was she doing instead this afternoon? And would she ever return to the library now?