Charles eyed his sister thoughtfully, wondering why he had brought up the matter now, after so many years. Of course he knew why. After their good friend Rohan Carrington, Baron Mountvale, had married, Phillip had fallen into a funk. Head said once to Charles last fall, aRohan is happy. Happy. Can you believe it? And Susannah is happy as well. Just maybe sometimes there is something that is honest and good between a man and a woman.a Charles said now, aVery well, Margaret, but you must promise to keep this knowledge tucked under your chestnut hair. Most people know a little of what occurred, but not everything. Rohan Carrington is the only other one to know the whole of it.a aI promise, Charlie.a Miss Elliott hit a high F. A champagne goblet trembled on a nearby table.
aPhillip asked Elaine to marry him and she agreed. The date was set for the following April, for no marriage could take place during Phillipas year of mourning for his father. It is too long ago for you to recall it, but during the fall of 1809 there were many violent skirmishes on the Peninsula. Phillip felt it his duty to rejoin his regiment, over Elaineas objections. I sometimes wonder,a Charles added, ahow we all could have been so wrong. A b.l.o.o.d.y pack of fools we were. Phillip returned to London on leave in early February to resign his commission and set Dinwitty Manor in order for its new mistress. He had changed somewhat, I can remember thinking that, as if he had been catapulted too quickly into manhood. Remember, he was now only twenty-one years old.a aYes, a veritable young lad for a gentleman and a spinster for a lady. Grossly unfair.a aThatas as may be but not to the point.a aDo you know, Charles, I have sometimes thought that Phillipas eyes mirror his deepest thoughts. Iave seen laughter in his eyes when there was none about his mouth, and sadness too. Iave never known what to make of it.a Charles had no idea what she was talking about. Better yet, he didnat want to know. He said, aIall never forget the night he came to my lodgings on Half Moon Street, vilely drunk, his face so white and set that I thought head been in a battle with the devil himself. I was scared to death.a Charles spoke more slowly now as he remembered Phillipas young face, his mouth flattened in bitter humiliation, his eyes cold and dead, mirroring his disillusion. He could still hear his voice, cold as ice. aElaine wants to wed now, Charlie, not in April as we had planned.a Charles had stared at his friend. What to say to that? Phillip was so young. None of his friends wanted him to wed. He said carefully, aIs it that she missed you more than you had believed? Surely this is a good sign.a Phillipas laugh was low and mean. aMiss me? G.o.d, thatas a rare jest. Give me a gla.s.s of brandy, Charles, and be quick about it.a Silently, Charles moved to the sideboard, poured brandy from the crystal decanter, and handed it to his friend. Phillip tipped the brandy down his throat and, with a growl of fury, hurled the empty gla.s.s toward the grate, where it shattered.
Charles was now seriously frightened. aDear G.o.d, Phillip, what happened? Whatas wrong with you?a The viscount raised his eyes and said in a voice so flat and soft that Charles had to lean close to make out his words, aElainea"my Ice Maidena"is pregnant, my friend. It took me quite a while to pry it out of her. Rest a.s.sured that Iam not the father.a Charles reeled back on his heels. aBut who?a aExactly my question to dear Elaine, which, of course, she tearfully refused to answer. It wasnat very n.o.ble of me, but I waited patiently, then followed her. There is no doubt in my mind that the father of her child is her wastrel cousin, Roger.a Phillip paused a moment, his eyes turning hard. aOf course he will never know the s.e.x of his child, for I am going to kill him.a Charles sucked in his breath. Of a certainty he had seen Elaine much in her cousinas company, but he was, after all, part of her family. To the eyes of the polite world, there had been nothing questionable about her behavior.
aWhat do you intend to do about Elaine?a aThat panting little b.i.t.c.h?a He began to laugh, furiously wild laughter. aIf she is an ice maiden, Charles, I ask you, what is every other lady? Well, my friend, Iall tell you what they area"s.l.u.ts who have no honor, who will part their thighs to the closest male of their acquaintance. I thank G.o.d that I have seen the truth in time to escape. Never will I fall into such a trap again.a Charles shook the viscountas shoulders. aYouare drunk as a loon, Phillip, and you donat know what youare saying. Come to bed. Weall decide what is to be done on the morrow, when youave a clear head and your wits about you.a aNo, Charles. What must be done will be done now, tonight. I am off to kill that b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Roger. You will act as my second?a aBut the scandal, Phillip. Have you thought of what this would do to your mother? To Elaineas family? My G.o.d, man, youare the Viscount Derencourt.a Phillip regarded Charles for a brief moment, then said softly, aIf I do not have my honor, Charles, I have nothing. Most likely, all of society will d.a.m.n me to h.e.l.l.a He rose and shrugged into his greatcoat. aIam not too drunk to get it done. Are you coming, Charles?a Margaret was shaking. That such a thing could happen appalled her.
aThereas more, isnat there, Charlie? Youave trusted me thus far, please, you must tell me the rest of it.a aNeedless to say, I accompanied Phillip to Roger Traversas lodging. Both he and his valet were gone. I remember that his housekeeper, a nervous little scarecrow of a woman, showed Phillip a note written by Roger saying that head left on an extended visit to the Continent. As you know, Margaret, there was no scandal. As for Elaine, obviously, she rid herself of the child. It is my opinion that she must have harmed herself irrevocably, for she has never borne Bufford an heir. Phillip left immediately for the Peninsula. It was Elaine who inserted a retraction of their engagement in the Gazette. The following June, she married Bufford. The rest, my dear Margaret, you know.a aThat horrible b.i.t.c.h. Goodness, I should like to challenge her to a duel.a Charles took his sisteras small hand into his. aWhatas really strange is that Elaine hates Phillip. She knows he has never said a word about what happened, but it seems that she canat remain civil around him. I know she tells tales about things heas supposedly done. Now, I know that you will guard this secret. Phillip would wring my neck if he knew Iad told you.a aItas because of Elaine that heas never married?a Charles was silent for several moments, gazing toward Teresa, who had displayed herself charmingly at the pianoforte. aPerhaps such an experience would shape the lives of some men, embitter them, make them hate and distrust women, but not Phillip. Heas much too perceptive a man to allow Elaineas despicable behavior to jade his view of the entire female s.e.x. I at least hope to heaven that itas true.a aBut why hasnat he married?a aIam not married either, Margaret, and Phillip and I are the same age, twenty-six. Goodness, woman, give us time. Weave just begun to ripen, as Rohan Carrington says.a aWhat else does Rohan say?a aLadies ripen early. They must either wait for the boys to ripen or pluck the older ones.a aYes, that makes sense,a Margaret said, and punched her brotheras arm. aBut will either of you ever marry, Charlie?a aI believe I shall be a bachelor, Margaret. As for Phillip, I can only say that he is a very careful man. Only time will tell.a aIam so very happy. Marriage is amazing. I just never considered that there were so many things I was missing. There is so much more to life when there is another who cares about you and wants to make you happy. I just want you to know what itas like. Do reconsider, Charlie, do.a aIall think about it. Promise me you wonat tease Phillip. You wonat make any veiled references to anything Iave told you.a aIam trustworthy, Charlie. I promise.a Charlesas attention was drawn to the sound of Miss Elliottas raised voice. aNo, I have no wish to play whist,a he heard her say to the dowager Countess of Mowbray. aViscount Derencourt is my partner and I shall wait for him before I play.a Charles said, aActually, Lady Mowbray is very lucky. Teresa is a disaster at whist. I had the misfortune to partner her once. She trumped my ace of spades. I wanted to wring her neck. I remember that Phillip was watching. He just laughed.a aAnother ice maiden, I think,a Margaret said, patted her brotheras arm, and took herself off to partner the countess in whist.
10.
She whispered against the hollow of his throat, aPlease, build up the fire, it is so very cold.a Phillip pulled Sabrinaas body more tightly against him. He felt her low cracked breathing against his neck; he felt the pain each of those breaths cost her. Hair had worked its way loose from the braid head fashioned for her, tickling his nose, curling around his jaw. He smoothed her hair, moving his head slightly on the pillow. She followed, even closer now, trying to get inside him, he thought, to find his warmth and burrow into it. Her hands were clutching at his shirt, her legs pressing as hard as she could against his. He felt desire for her. It had happened before when head stripped off her clothes, when head bathed her. It didnat matter. He again ignored it. He was a man, not a randy boy. He treated it like any other discomfort that couldnat be changed, he controlled it, focusing on Lucius, remembering how head held his brother, just as he was holding Sabrina now, letting his heat flow into his body. But unlike Lucius, Sabrina was very small. He knew he must be nearly smothering her, covering nearly all of her, and what his body didnat touch, his large hands did. He rubbed his chin very lightly against the top of her head. He had no intention ever again of leaving London during future Christmas holidays. Then he realized if he hadnat been here, in this particular spot, she would have died. He didnat want her to die. He realized more than anything he wanted to see her smile, see life in those incredible violet eyes of hers, hear her speak, not necessarily telling him important things, just occasional thoughts she had. It didnat matter. He just wanted her well. He kissed her again. No, no more complaining. Head never believed in an outside force that changed menas lives for no good reason, hurling them in an entirely new direction. No, head always reckoned that a man was master of his own destiny, until something he himself set into motion, be it wise or stupid, changed the course of his life. Well, maybe head been wrong. Fate had flung him into Sabrinaas path and head accepted the responsibility of her. He wondered how much further his life would now change as a result.
He awoke the next morning sweating and stiff. He nearly groaned aloud at the cramp in his shoulder. Then he felt like giving a shout of sheer pleasure when he realized Sabrina was also sweating. Her fever had broken. aSweat all you like, sweetheart,a he said, kissing her temple. He gently eased himself away from her and out of the bed. She immediately rolled into a small ball, her sleep unbroken. He stood quietly, listening to her quiet, deep breathing.
aThis time Iave won,a he said aloud to the silent room. He stood a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, listening to her breathing. He felt happier at that moment than he had in many a long month. Actually he hadnat been this happy since Rohan and Susannah had visited Dinwitty Manor and theyad figured out the clues to the treasure. Yes, he was immensely pleased with himself.
The room was cold. He built up the fire, always one eye on her to see that she still breathed, to see that she still sweated.
While she slept, Viscount Derencourt heated water to wash his clothes in the kitchen. First though, he bathed himself, sighing at the feel of being clean again. He eyed the pile of dirty clothes, but knew there was no hope for it. Without a second thought, he dumped the clothes into the water and washed them as best he could. He grinned, picturing Dambleras face were he to see his master scrubbing his fine white lawn shirt in a rather dirty tub of water in front of a kitchen fire.
He hung his clothes to dry over the backs of chairs that sat around the big block wooden table in the kitchen. He dressed himself in his only remaining clean shirt and britches and went back upstairs to check on his patient.
She still slept, curled up on her side away from him. Her brow was cool, but her dressing gown was damp with sweat. d.a.m.nation, he hadnat thought to check. He stripped her, hoping she wouldnat awaken. Because he was a man, because he simply couldnat help himself, he looked at her, tried to touch her as little as possible because he wasnat completely lost to good sense, and gritted his teeth. But she was lovely, particularly since there was a flush on her cheeks.
The hair on her womanas mound was just a bit darker than the hair on her head. He wanted to touch her, touch her womanas flesh. He shouldnat be thinking such thoughts. Very well, head think about nons.e.xual parts of her. Her hands were very white, her fingers long. He imagined she played the pianoforte. There, that wasnat badly done of him. Not to mention her b.r.e.a.s.t.s that were actually very nice anda"no, that wasnat well done of him either. He stared at her feet. Nice feet, arched, probably quite useful, as good feet went.
Then he laughed at himself, he couldnat help it. aSorry, sweetheart,a he said. aIam trying to do the best I can. Please forgive me when I fall into these lapses.a She moaned softly in her sleep, which was no answer, and made him think about s.e.x.
Phillip straightened the manas white shirt over her, smoothing it down. It came halfway down her thighs, surely modest enough. He supposed head have to wash the two dressing gowns. No, he didnat think velvet could be washed. He looked down at her quiet face. He knew that face now; it was precious to him. It was odd, but it was true. He had no idea if she was a shrew, a devious liar, a saint. When theyad spoken, shead seemed well enough, witty even, her voice soft and cultured, but he knew from long experience that she could just as easily be another virago like Elaine. Elaine. He hadnat thought about her in a very long time. In fact, the only time he ever thought about her was when he came face-to-face with her at a gathering in London. He rather hoped she was miserable, she deserved to be.
She still slept. Food, he thought, it was time to make something. He made bread. The two loaves of something that could pa.s.s for bread, maybe, he eased from the old iron oven. He swelled with pride. It didnat matter that they were flat and burned on the corners. It didnat matter that any sort of bread wasnat supposed to have corners. It was edible and he had made it. He was a fine human being. He could survive. No, it didnat matter a bit that the two loaves reminded him of the gray quarry stones his workers hauled from the sandstone pit near Dinwitty Manor to repair the ancient Elizabethan watchtower wall. They would use the same quarry stone when he finally managed to get started on his new crenellated tower that head spent most of the past summer designing. However, he still hadnat gotten it built, or even started it, probably because head been so shaken up by what had happened in Scotland with Rohan and Susannah Carrington. No, he wouldnat think about that bizarre experience. He allowed himself to remember all of it only late at night when he was alone, drinking brandy in his own library, staring into his own fire, seeing things no man should even imagine.
He broke off a burned corner. It didnat taste wonderful. On the other hand, he wasnat starving, and he knew from experience that starving indeed made a difference. His mouth was still spoiled from memories of food Cook made him at Dinwitty Manor. It didnat matter. It was nourishing and it could be eaten, if one was desperate enough, and surely both he and Sabrina were desperate enough.
She was still asleep. He wasnat worried, no, sleep was the best thing for her. He carefully wrapped his two loaves of bread in coa.r.s.e cloths he found stacked on a shelf in the kitchen. Then he shrugged on his greatcoat and went to the stable to see to Tasha. The moment he stepped outside, the howling wind whipped against him, sending snow in his face. But the blizzard couldnat last for much longer, no storms in England ever did. He looked toward the path that wound its way to the front of the house, a white ribbon. No one would be coming for a while yet, not for at least several more days.
Tasha whinnied when he stepped into the stable. He rubbed her nose, laughed when she b.u.t.ted into his chest. aYes, I know youare b.l.o.o.d.y bored, but thereas no hope for it. Just a few more days, then you can gallop your way out of here.a He looked down at the nearly empty bin of oats. aActually, in another couple of days, youare going to be too fat to do anything except groan.a Phillip refilled the bin with hay, scooped up a bucketful of snow that would soon melt in the warmth of the stable into fresh water, sang Tasha a song, then walked slowly back to the house. The snow was nearly to the top of his boots. He shook his head and smiled. d.a.m.n, if Sabrina didnat wake up soon, whole-witted, he would soon be talking to the furniture. He just hoped if that happened, the furniture wouldnat talk back.
Head nearly finished righting the havoc head created in the kitchen when he heard a soft thumping sound from overhead. He tore off the white ap.r.o.n in an instant and was up those stairs, two at a time, in three seconds flat, his heart pounding.
He pushed open the partially closed bedchamber door and stopped cold in his tracks. Sabrina stood next to the bed, clutching the bedpost for support. Her face was white, her breathing harsh, her braid flopped over her shoulder, oily and lank.
aWhat the devil are you doing out of bed?a She stared at him, her face whiter than the manas shirt she was wearing.
aI canat get back into bed just yet.a aWhy ever not?a aI got up because I need to relieve myself. Do you know where the chamber pot is?a aAs a matter of fact I do. I wish youad called me instead of trying to make the journey by yourself.a aBut I donat even know who you are. Well I do, but Iad forgotten. Youare a man. I donat want you to help me relieve myself. That wouldnat be right. It would be utterly mortifying.a aAll right then. Let me help you over behind the screen. Call me when youare done so I can put you back to bed. Iall bet you have about as much strength as a flea.a aThatas just about it,a she said.
When she was back in bed again, the covers to her throat, he sat down beside her. Out of habit, he laid his palm on her forehead. aNot even a whisper of a fever. Youare just fine now. Now, donat get me wrong. Youare going to have to rest because youave been quite ill, but you will get well again.a aYou know my name,a she said, those strange colored eyes of hers on his face.
He wanted to tell her that he also knew about the small heart-shaped birthmark on her left b.u.t.tock, but he didnat. He just smiled at her. aYes, and I even know that your nickname is Bree. Do you remember that Iam Phillip? I donat have a nickname unless some enemy calls me a b.a.s.t.a.r.d.a aI remember now. Where are we?a He smiled down at her and began to smooth loose tendrils of hair back behind her ear. aYou have got your wits back again, thank the good Lord. Now, as to where we are, I havenat a clue. Iam a stranger to this particular part of Yorkshire. Do you remember what I told you? I found you lying in the forest in the snow. Iad pa.s.sed this hunting box and brought you back here. Weave been here two days now, wherever here is.a aWhat were you doing in the forest, my lord?a aMy lord? Now how would you know that I was a lord, a merchant, or otherwise?a Had he told her he was Viscount Derencourt? He couldnat remember.
Her eyes fell to his left hand, aYouare wearing a signet ring. Iam not stupid or ignorant.a Phillip smiled as he looked down briefly at the heavy ruby signet ring pa.s.sed from father to son in the Mercerault family for nearly three hundred years. Not all that long a stretch of time compared to some of the great families of England, but still three hundred years seemed a powerful long number of years to him. aYouare observant, Sabrina. I remember now. Before, I only told you my family name. Let me give you my best introduction. Iam Phillip Mercerault, Viscount Derencourt of Dinwitty Manor, near Oxford.a Phillip thought he saw a flash of recognition in her eyes, but she lowered her lashes before he could be certain. aNow, I know your first name is Sabrina. Who are you?a
11.
He wasnat mistaken. She did indeed hesitate before answering him. Was she still afraid of him?
Finally she said, aMy name is Sabrina Eversleigh.a She wasnat about to tell him that she was actually Lady Sabrina. That was none of his business. He could be anyone. He could even be a friend of Trevoras. Well, no, not that, but for the moment, she wasnat about to tell him anything.
The Eversleigh name was familiar to him. Where had he heard it before? Sabrinaas eyes were tightly closed.
He touched his fingers to her cheeks. She was cool to the touch. aSabrina, you canat go back to sleep just yet. Iave made bread for you and some soup. Youave got to eat something to gain your strength back. All right?a aYes,a she said, not opening her eyes. aIam hungry. Thank you.a He looked down at her awhile longer, then rose. He turned at the doorway and said over his shoulder, aStay in bed. Just call out if you need me.a Five minutes later Phillip came back into the bedchamber, a tray balanced on his arms. aYour servant, Sabrina. The best bread and soup available in these parts. Of course there are hay and oats in the stable, but I doubt Tasha would part with any of it.a She c.o.c.ked her head to one side. aMy horse,a he said. aNow, let me help you up on that pillow, my lady.a She opened her eyes at that. He wasnat mistaken. He saw panic. aI donat have a signet ring,a she said, and he could hear the fear crawling in her voice. aIam not a my lady. How could you ever think that I was?a He wanted to tell her that head just been jesting with her, but no, not now. What was going on here? Who the devil was she?
aNo, no signet ring,a he said, looking down at her fingers. aIt doesnat matter. Come now and eat.a He clasped her under her arms and eased her to a sitting position, sat down beside her, and vigorously stirred the soup to cool it.
aWould you believe that this is a recipe from His Majestyas own kitchens? Brought to you here in Yorkshire by your humble servant? No, I didnat think you would believe that. Here, try some.a He placed a spoonful of broth into her mouth.
To his relief and delight, she closed her eyes in bliss and looked ready to swoon. She downed nearly half the bowl before shaking her head and leaning back. aItas truly delicious, Phillip, but I canat swallow another drop. If you werenat a n.o.bleman, why then, surely you could cook for the king, although since heas mad, perhaps he wouldnat appreciate your cooking.a aIall let you try the bread before making a final decision on my cooking abilities.a He brought out one of the loaves from the cloth. aI know it doesnat look aesthetically pleasing, but perhaps youall be able to get it down.a He fed her a chunk of the still-warm bread.
She got it chewed and swallowed, head say that for her. Nor did she change expression. In fact, she smiled at him. aItas wonderful, my lord. You are indeed a find. Where did you learn how to cook?a aIf a viscount happens to spend some years on the Peninsula, I a.s.sure you that he learns quickly how to keep body and soul together, at least after a fashion. When you are better, I doubt youall be so enthusiastic.a A shadow crossed her face. aMy father was killed at the battle of Ciudad Rodrigo.a Eversleigh. Perhaps that was why her name was familiar to him. He tried to remember an officer of that name, but couldnat remember a face. aIam sorry,a he said. aMany good men were lost in that battle. I was wounded myself.a She opened her eyes wide.
aYes, shot through the shoulder. I returned to England then. Sometimes when the weather suddenly changes, as it always is doing in England, my shoulder will ache. But I survived.a He saw it in her eyes. He saw how she wished her own father had suffered a simple wound and returned. But he hadnat. He was surprised when she said suddenly, aThat loaf of bread looks like a turtle and I have just eaten off its head.a aThatas a repellent thought.a Her smiled deepened, and dimples appeared on either side of her mouth. She looked really quite charming. He knew now that she was animated, full of life, full of energy. aI will be ready to eat its feet in just a few hours.a aAh, so you are of a s.a.d.i.s.tic nature.a aWhat does that mean?a He thought of that evil Frenchman, the Marquis de Sade. He just shook his head. aIt just means that you think a bit differently. Itas charming.a She withdrew. She didnat move an inch, but she withdrew from him. Why? Head said nothing untoward. He said easily, aActually, I was thinking that the loaf reminded me of the quarry stones mined near my home.a aOver the years Cook has occasionally taught me things. I do love your bread, my lord, but I would say that just a touch of yeast wouldnat come amiss.a aYouare right. Iall see if I can find some.a She smiled again, but weakly, and leaned her head back against the pillow. She stiffened when he laid the back of his hand against her cheek.
aNo, no, donat pull away from me. I must check. There, youave no fever.a aHow long have we been here?a aBy my best reckoning, about two and a half days. I donat think you could have been wandering around that forest for too long before I found you or you wouldnat have survived.a aItas Eppingham Forest.a aAh, now I know youare an Eversleigh and this forbidding place is called Eppingham Forest. Would you like to tell me where you live?a He saw a flash of something in her eyes. Was it temper? He hoped so. She said, aWhat is the day today?a He had to think a moment about that. aItas Wednesday, I believe.a It felt strange to be living outside of time.
Wednesday. She turned her head away from him, not wanting him to see her face. She had left Monmouth Abbey on Sunday. It seemed an eternity to her. She thought of the note shead left her grandfather and blinked. She couldnat cry. It would do no good. It would only make Phillip more suspicious. But Grandfather knew by now that she hadnat reached Borhamwood. By now he might think her dead.
Something was seriously wrong. No more pushing her now. He rose. aWeall speak later of why you left your home, sweetheart. Itas quite likely that your family is at this very moment searching for you. The blizzard will blow itself out very soon now.a He closed his hand over hers. aNo, donat worry just yet. All will be well, youall see. Undoubtedly, my friends will be out soon searching for me as doubtless your family is searching for you.a She turned even whiter. He held his peace. She closed away thoughts of her grandfather, thoughts of Trevor. She felt weary, incredibly weary. She looked up at him for a long moment and said, aYour eyes. Theyare really quite beautiful. It seems so long ago, yet I remember now wanting to see you frown or smile so that I could read your eyes, so that I would know what kind of a man you were.a aMy eyes wouldnat tell you whether or not I was a good man. Sleep now. When you next wake up, youall be even stronger. Iall have some more bread and soup for you.a Phillip sat quietly beside her until he was certain that she slept. So I have beautiful eyes, have I, Sabrina? He realized that she hadnat said whether or not shead found him a good man. He walked quietly to the window, staring out over the white landscape. The snow wasnat slapping so hard against the window. The winds had lessened. The blizzard was blowing itself out. Where had he heard the name Eversleigh before? Was it from Ciudad Rodrigo?
aWell, girl, donat stand there gawking. Get on with it. What news do you have for me?a Elizabeth stood before the earl, her eyes downcast, her fingers nervously plucking at the folds of her gown. aI donat have any news. Iam sorry, Grandfather. All of our men have been searching since the blizzard lightened this morning, but as yet, there is no word.a aTrevor is searching with the men?a aHe began the search, Grandfather,a she said, looking away from him, toward the open-draped windows.
aJust what does that mean?a aTrevor is greatly affected by our severe weather. He was forced to return a short while ago. He is in his bedchamber, warming himself.a The earl slewed his head about and stared silently for several moments through the bowed library windows onto the frigid white landscape. aSabrina isnat a fool,a he said, more to himself than to Elizabeth.
Shead always been the fool, Elizabeth thought, bitterness twisting in her belly. aBut I didnat run away,a she said aloud, adisgracing myself and my family.a The earlas grizzled gray brows drew sharply together. He said in a voice colder than the frozen pond in the east gardens, aSabrina isnat a s.l.u.t, Elizabeth, even though it suits you to insist upon it. Your spite does you no credit. Sabrina throw herself at Trevor? Such a thing is nonsense, absurd.a He saw Elizabeth pale, but doubted he could bully her into telling him the truth. Head believed, foolishly perhaps, that Elizabethas dislike of her sister would lessen once head secured her a husband, and not just any husband, but the future Earl of Monmouth. He had made certain that she would marry before Sabrina, even going so far as to deny a powerful n.o.bleman Sabrinaas hand until after Elizabeth was safely wedded. He shook his head, knowing that he wasnat being entirely honest with himself. No, the truth of the matter was that head wanted above all things to keep Sabrina with him for as long as possible. If only Clarendon had wanted Elizabeth instead of Sabrina. But of course, Richard Clarendon had been drawn to Sabrina the moment head seen her laughing with old Squire Frobisher as shead helped him to his chair. He remembered seeing the look on Richardas face and knowing, simply knowing, that Clarendon wanted her.
The earl looked back at Elizabethas pale face. aWell, donat you have anything to say to me?a It was a meaningless question. He couldnat begin to imagine what she would say, if she would say anything at all.
Elizabeth felt the old earlas eyes on her face. aWhy is it, sir, if Sabrina had decided to leave Monmouth Abbeya"for whatever reasona"that she didnat come and discuss her plans with you? You have said yourself that her letter told you nothing. Does that fact not imply her guilt and shame in this entire matter?a Shead shaken him. She wanted to smile. It took all her resolve to keep still, to keep all her triumph, her pleasure at her blow to herself. He appeared to shrink visibly in his chair, and his fierce blue eyes dimmed. Ah yes, she thought, your precious Sabrina, whoas always shared her fancies and problems with you, her doting grandfathera"gone with only a meaningless letter to you.
The earl drew a deep breath. aI shall never believe the story you and your husband have tried to foist on me, Elizabeth. Leave me now.a Her shoulders squared, Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked quickly from the library, without a backward glance. As she walked across the ma.s.sive flagstone entrance hall, she wondered what would happen to her and Trevor if Sabrina hadnat been consumed by the blizzard.
aLady Elizabeth.a She turned abruptly, her hand on the bal.u.s.trade. aYes, Ribble?a aForgive me, my lady, but the Marquess of Arysdale has come to call on Lady Sabrina. He is in the drawing room. I didnat think it my place to tell his lordship that Lady Sabrina wasnat here.a Elizabeth felt a deep jolt of pleasure sweep through her. She licked her dry lips. Good G.o.d, Richard Clarendon was here. She saw that Ribble was watching her and nodded briskly. aI will see him, Ribble.a She felt both frightened and excited at the prospect of seeing Richard, the man shead fallen in love with when she was sixteen and he, twenty-one. She had given him every encouragement over the years, had even blatantly talked of her dowry to him, one befitting the heir to the Duke of Portsmouth. When his young wife had died over two years ago, her hopes had soared. She remembered the shock of betrayal shead felt when only six months ago she had overheard him tell the earl that it was Sabrina he wanted. Her humiliation was made all the worse by the fact that neither of them seemed to care that she was within earshot.
Every word spoken was still clear in her mind, the pain of them still bowing her in on herself. The earl had said in that deep smooth voice of his, his brows beetled together, aMy little Sabrina is like her grandmother. She wonat tolerate a husband who isnat faithful to her. She knows of your reputation even though she canat begin to understand it. No, I would never give her over to a man who would betray her, and thatas how she would view a husband who bedded other women. Make up your mind to mend your ways, for Iall not push her into a marriage that would make her unhappy.a aSabrina is young, my lord,a Richard Clarendon had said in that honey-smooth deep voice of his. aSheas spirited, a beautiful unbroken filly. As my wife, my lord, you can be a.s.sured that she will never desire for anything more than I can give her. And that, sir, includes other gentlemen.a aSo, Richard, you believe your charm and prowess will satisfy my granddaughter, do you?a aLady Elizabeth.a She shook herself free of the memory and turned irritably to the butler. aYes, Ribble?a aIf I may inquire, my lady. Is there any word of Lady Sabrina?a Elizabeth knew that servants had their ways of discovering things. Surely this old fool of a butler knew that Sabrina had disgraced herself. Yet he had the temerity to approach her, the now undisputed mistress of Monmouth Abbey, to inquire after the little s.l.u.t.
aI fear, Ribble,a she said coldly, athat my sister could not have survived the blizzard. The men are still searching, as you know, but soon his lordship will realize the futility of it and call them back. Her body will undoubtedly be recovered when the snow melts.a She saw a spasm of grief pa.s.s over the old manas smooth forehead.
aItas naturally a tragedy,a she continued more coldly still, moving away from him, aand a loss to all of us. But life continues. We continue. You may follow me to the drawing room now, Ribble. I donat wish to keep the marquess waiting.a
12.
The marquess was standing by the windows, staring out at the snow. Elizabeth felt her belly muscles clench at the sight of him. Shead never wanted another man, just Richard Clarendon. He was magnificent, all strength and muscle, beautifully made, his face hard and cold, drawing her easily to him, and any other woman he wanted. She swallowed and stretched out her hands. aRichard, why ever are you in Yorkshire, now of all times? Surely London is a more pleasant place than Yorkshire at this time of year.a The Marquess of Arysdale straightened from his negligent pose at the bowed windows. He strode across the room, his grace stunning her, making her hot and breathless. He raised her hand to his lips. aItas a pleasure to see you, Elizabeth. Marriage appears to agree with you. I only regret that I wasnat able to attend your wedding.a Elizabeth trembled when his mouth touched her wrist. She couldnat help it. She also knew that he was quite used to such a response. He was a rake, a womanizer, enjoying himself with any woman that pleased him at the moment. She had long known it, but shead never cared. Now that she was married and knew well what men wanted of womenas bodies, she wondered how different lovemaking would be if Richard were her husband. A stain of red deepened on her cheeks as she pictured Richard naked over her. He wouldnat be soft and smooth as Trevor was. He wouldnat be cruel.
aWhere is Sabrina, Elizabeth?a Sabrina, he wanted to see Sabrina. She felt the heat cool in her body. She lowered her eyes and said in a shaking voice, aPlease sit down, Richard. The news I have for you isnat pleasant.a ad.a.m.n you, woman, what the devil do you mean by that?a She felt more than saw the instant difference in him. The lazy animal grace had disappeared. He was alert now, ready to kill, if need be.
aPlease, Richard.a She waved to a blue brocade settee.
aEnough of this. Where is Sabrina?a He took his seat unwillingly beside her. She felt the barely leashed energy in him. The violence so very close to the surface. It thrilled her and frightened her.
She wished she could tell him what Sabrina had done, tell him that the little princess was nothing more than a trollop, that shead disgraced herself and run away from home, but she wasnat stupid. Richard was unpredictable. It was very possible that head go into a rage, perhaps even kill Trevor. If that happened, she wouldnat have anything. No, she had to be calm, to think clearly. aSabrina has vanished,a she said. She lowered her head and waited in silence.
aSabrinaas not a d.a.m.ned witch. I have never seen her with a broomstick. What the deuce do you mean, sheas vanished?a aItas just as I said, Richard. She fled the Abbey last Sunday, before the blizzard. She left Grandfather a vague letter telling him she intended to go to Aunt Barresford in London. But, of course, we have heard nothing. We fear that she could not have survived.a The marquess roared to his feet and stared down hard at her, his dark eyes hard and dangerous. ad.a.m.nation, Elizabeth, what is this idiocy? Sabrina knew that I was coming to visit her. Indeed, there is no doubt in my mind that she knew the reason for my coming.a Elizabeth kept the smile hidden. He didnat realize that head just given her immense power, and all so very innocently. She raised her pale eyes to his harshly beautiful face. aPerhaps, Richard, you have just provided us with the reason for her running away.a If shead been a man he would have struck her. She knew it and gloried in it. He had to rein himself in. aThatas a d.a.m.ned lie, Elizabeth, and you know it.a He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.
Elizabeth jumped to her feet, alarmed now. aWhere are you going, Richard?a He said over his shoulder, not even turning to face her, aIam going to see the earl. It appears I wonat get a sensible answer from you.a He turned then, to look at her fully. aYou know, Elizabeth, you havenat changed at all.a Then he was gone and she was left standing there, alone, in the middle of the huge drawing room. She rubbed her arms. She was cold. What had he meant?
Sabrina was running down a long, narrow room. People were staring down at her, yet they made no move to help her. She whirled about in her flight at the sound of footsteps closing behind her. Trevor was coming toward her and she saw l.u.s.t burning brightly in his eyes. She backed up. Something sharp dug into her back and she cried out as she turned. The peopleas eyes were watching her, uncaring and cold. He was nearly on her. He stretched out his hand. She screamed as a hand clutched her shoulder.
aSabrina, wake up.a But her terror held her back in that room with all those faces staring at her. The hand shook her again, harder this time.
aWake up, youare having a nightmare. Come, sweetheart, you can do it.a Her eyes flew open and she stared up at Phillipas face. She felt such tremendous relief that she didnat think. She reared up and threw her arms about his back. She said against his chest, aThe faces. There were so many faces and none of them said anything, they just stared at me. They didnat care. None of them would help me.a Phillip held her tightly against him, smoothing tangled hair back from her forehead. aItas all right now, Sabrina. Thereas nothing to fear now. Youare here and Iam here and I wonat let that d.a.m.ned nightmare get close to you again. What faces did you see?a She drew a deep, shuddering breath and leaned back in the circle of his arms to look up into his face. aYes, the faces. They must have been the portraits in the gallery. So many of them, all long dead, they couldnat have helped me.a As calm as a vicar, he said, aSo you fled to the portrait gallery to escape from Trevor?a aYes,a she said, then gulped. She didnat say another word, just concentrated on getting a hold on herself.
aWho are you, Sabrina? And who is Trevor?a She wanted to tell him everything, she truly wanted to, but she couldnat. So long as Trevor and Elizabeth stood together at Monmouth Abbey, she could never return, nor had she any wish to. She could well imagine Phillipas reaction were she to pour the whole sordid story into his ears. He would take her back and undoubtedly force a confrontation with Trevor. G.o.d only knew what her grandfather would do, what would happen to him. No, she couldnat allow it. She had made her plans and as soon as she gained her strength back, she would leave Yorkshire and go to her aunt Barresford. She never wanted to return to Monmouth Abbey for as long as Trevor and Elizabeth were there. And that would be always. She thought of her grandfather, of him not knowing if she was alive or dead, not understanding. She felt tears sting her eyes and shook her head. Crying wouldnat help and it would just make Phillip question her more. She forced herself to pull away from him.
aI told you that my nameas Sabrina Eversleigh. Trevor is someone who is of no concern to you.a aThat may be true, but I know heas a b.a.s.t.a.r.d and that he hurt you. I do wish youad just tell me the truth, but if you still wish to keep it all inside you, well, then, I still have some time on my hands. A little mystery always amuses me. Yes, I have both patience and time on my side.a He eased her back onto her pillow. She immediately reared up again, balancing herself on her elbows. aMy money. What did you do with my money?a aI suppose you mean the three pounds and some odd shillings I found in your bodice?a aYou know very well thatas what I mean. Where is it?a Head meant to embarra.s.s her. Not well done of him, but he wasnat feeling all that much charity with her at the moment. He rose from her bed. aObviously there isnat a gaming hall hereabouts where I could dissipate your fortune. Your three pounds are quite safe, I a.s.sure you. Since you are awake, I must insist that you eat some more of my soup. You donat wish to go home looking like an orphan from the workhouse.a She felt hated, useless tears burn her eyes. She said, as if by rote, aMy home is in London. And it is to London that I must go when Iam well again.a aI suppose youall tell me that you were out for a nice winteras stroll and got lost in your Eppingham Forest.a She shrugged. It infuriated him. aI was here visiting acquaintances of my family. I live with my aunt in London. Please, Phillip, you must help me return to her.a aWho are these acquaintances you were visiting?a She just looked at him, that stubborn chin of hers up.
aWhatas your auntas name?a Her chin went higher, but he saw that it was costing her. She looked fixedly at a point just above his left shoulder. aSheas married to a London merchant and lives in the city. Her name would mean nothing to you.a aAh, I understand now. You are an orphan.a She was taken aback and he saw that she was. Actually shead never thought of herself as an orphan, even though both of her parents were dead. She remembered her motheras face when shead received word that her husband had been killed in the battle of Ciudad Rodrigo. Her mother had died shortly thereafter. Yes, she was an orphan. She nodded and was silent.
aG.o.d, but youare stubborn. How can you expect me to get you back to your aunt, if you will not tell me who she is?a aIave told you that I was on my way to get the London stage that stops in Borhamwood. That was where I was going when my horse went lame. I didnat realize that it would snow; well, I did, but I thought it would hold off longer.a The viscount rose, giving her a look of acute dislike. aEnough, Sabrina. If you continue with these unbelievable tales when youare better, I just might be tempted to beat you.a aA manas threat,a she said, eyeing him with contempt. aNone of you think anything of threatening someone smaller than you are.a He just grinned at her. aSpare me your indignation. You know very well that you pulled those words out of a hat. Except, of course, for this Trevor fellow, who, when I discover his ident.i.ty, I will kill with no hesitation at all. Now, calm yourself down, my lady. Iam going to fetch your soup now.a aDonat you dare call me that.a A very strong reaction, one that gave him the truth. And she knew shead spilled it. Her face was frozen. He said easily, aEven though youare not wearing a signet ring, it doesnat matter. Iam not altogether ignorant of the ways of ladies of quality. And despite your spurts of impertinence, thatas exactly what you are.a She shook her head back and forth on the pillow and fell into a spasm of coughing. Phillip leaned over and clasped her against him, gently rubbing her back until the hoa.r.s.e coughs subsided.
aI feel so wretched.a He felt her warm breath against his shoulder. aI know.a He pressed her gently back down and covered her. aNo more inquisition for now.a Phillip paused at the doorway, then turned back to look at Sabrina. She was lying there stiff as a sapling, her hands fisted at her sides. What the devil would happen to her? And to him, if she didnat tell him the truth? Or if she did, for that matter?
13.
aYour visit is poorly timed, Richard. It would have been better if youad but come a week ago.a The marquess was pacing back and forth in front of his chair. The earl found the young manas energy exhausting.
The marquess whirled about then, saying, aI couldnat get anything from Elizabeth, my lord. Perhaps you will tell me where Sabrina has gone so that I may go fetch her.a aStop staring down at me like Satan himself. Sit down, my boy. I have enough idiots in my own household without adding you to their numbers.a The marquess curbed his impatience and his rising temper and lowered his lean body into a leather chair facing the earl. He looked closely at the crippled old man and for the first time felt a stab of alarm. Head aged years since the last time Richard had seen him. His eyes seemed sunken in his face and his shoulders drooped. Something had happened, something awful.
aVery well. Iam seated. Tell me whatas happened to Sabrina.a aSheas gone, Clarendon, with but a note to me. My men are scouring the area within a twelve-mile circle, but as yet there is no sign of her.a The marquess waved an elegant hand impatiently. aYes, I know that. Elizabeth told me of the letter Sabrina wrote to you. The letter said shead gone to her aunt Barresford in London.a The earlas voice was flat, almost emotionless. aYes, that d.a.m.ned letter. No one of Sabrinaas description has left from the posting house in Borhamwood. Sheas well known in the village. No one has seen her.a aThen sheas staying with friends near here.a aIam sorry, Richard, but no.a The marquess bounded from his chair. He began his pacing again, back and forth in front of the earl. aOf course sheas nearby. The people sheas with are simply protecting her. From what? Well, I can easily imagine Elizabeth and Trevor dishing out more misery than she could endure. She left simply because she couldnat bear to stay.a aShe would have come to me if that had been the case. She would have told me. She would have known that Iad deal with Trevor and Elizabeth. No, that isnat what happened.a ad.a.m.nation, this is b.l.o.o.d.y ridiculous!a The marquess leaned over the earlas chair and placed a hand on each arm. aWhy, sir? Why did she leave?a aWhat did Elizabeth tell you?a aElizabeth?a The marquess shrugged, then straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. aShe told me some nonsense about Sabrina running away because I was coming to see her.a A travesty of a smile crossed the old earlas face, quickly to be gone. aIt appears that Elizabeth is playing off all her stories. In a way, my boy, I wish I could believe that, but you must know the truth of ita"to the best of my knowledge, Sabrina didnat remember that you were coming. You have been singularly unsuitorlike these past months, Clarendon, for a man who professes to care for my granddaughter.a Richard drew back, his dark eyes narrowing. aIf you will recall, my lord, I agreed to leave Sabrina be until she reached her eighteenth birthday. Her birthday was two weeks ago. It would appear that you have not much encouraged my suit with her.a To the marquessas appalled surprise, a long tear fell from the old earlas eye, falling crookedly down his wizened cheek. He pounded his fist against the arm of his chair. aDonat you understand what Iave been telling you? Sheas gone. Sheas very likely dead by now. Her horse returned, lame, and we have had no sign of her. The blizzard blew hard for nearly three daysa"no one could have survived it. No one.a The marquess curbed a shaft of fear that tore through him, then he quashed it. aSabrina is young, my lord, but she isnat a fool. Sheas safe, somewhere, she must be. Dammit, sir, do you have any idea why she left in the first place?a The earl forced himself to think about his nephew and heir. Trevor Eversleigh would not make much of an earl, but at least he was an Eversleigh and the line would not die out. He knew that if he told Clarendon the story Elizabeth and Trevor had foisted upon him, the marquess would likely kill Trevor without a second thought.
aIall not have you yelling at me, Richard. Iam sorry, but I simply donat know.a At the incredulous look on the marquessas face, the earl added, his voice hard and laced with pain, aThe grief is more mine than yours, my boy. I have lost my granddaughter.a aI donat accept your answers, old man,a the marquess said, his voice colder than the icicles hanging from the roof. aSabrina isnat dead.a The earl turned his bony hand palm up in a helpless gesture.
The marquess strode quickly to the door. His hand was on the doork.n.o.b when he turned back suddenly. aWhere is your nephew, my lord? I would like to meet the fellow.a The earl couldnat manage to hide a frisson of distaste as he said, aTrevor is in his bedchamber, nursing a chill. He was leading the search when he was overcome by the cold.a The marquess didnat try to hide his contempt. aAre you certain this idiot is of your blood?a It made the earl smile. aIam certain. I suppose the explanation is logical enough. Trevor lived all of his life in Italy. Thus he isnat used to the harshness of our winters.a The marquess looked as if he would puke. aWill you send for the fellow, my lord, or shall I visit him in his sickroom?a The earl saw there was no hope for it, and nodded slowly. aFetch us both a gla.s.s of sherry, Richard. I will see if Trevor is well enough to see you.a He raised his hand and tugged the gold ta.s.sel on the bell cord.
Trevor pulled open his dressing gown. The maid, Mary, lay on her back, her legs parted, her skirts and petticoats bunched up about her waist. She was still wearing her stout work boots and thick woolen stockings, fastened above her knees with black bands. aPlease, sir, wonat you come to me now?a She stretched out her arms to bring him down upon her.
Trevor slowly slid his fingers along the inside of her thighs. She moaned as he caressed her, and pushed her hips upward toward him.
aSuch a s.l.u.t you are, my girl,a he said, his voice low and thick. He felt her tremble and quickly straddled her. She tried to clasp her arms about him to bring his mouth down to hers, but he struck them down. He pushed her skirts higher, until they were covering her face, then he dug his fingers into her flesh.
She cried out. He thrust deep and she moaned. Was it from pain or from pleasure? He didnat care. aYes, Mary. You adore the pain, donat you? The pain and pleasure together move you, donat they?a Trevor brought his hand up, riffled his way through all her petticoats and closed his fingers over her breast. He kneaded her as he spoke low to her, telling her how she pleased him, telling her she was a s.l.u.t and he would give her what she craved. He smiled when he felt her stiffen beneath him. He leaned down and bit her, even as he went so deep it must hurt her. Even as she cried out in pain, she fell into spasms of pleasure. She loved it and hated herself for loving it. She knew with all the clarity of someone who rarely looked deeply into herself that he had recognized this weakness in her, this sinfulness, this perversion, yes, head recognized it and head come to her, calling to her as a master would to his dog. And shead come.
Trevor tensed, then let his own release take him. He gave a shout of satisfaction. He called her a wh.o.r.e once again and she welcomed it for she knew it was only the truth. He lay beside her now, his face on the counterpane. Then suddenly he rolled off the bed and stood there, his dressing gown open, his fists clenched, cursing. d.a.m.n Sabrina. She was a s.l.u.t like the rest of them, yet shead denied him. Now she was dead and he would never have her. He gazed at Mary, who was lying on her side now, her clothes still frothed around her like icing on a cake. She was so easy, coming to him with scarce a backward glance or thought of her mistress, Elizabeth. Shead been easily had. She wasnat Sabrina. He wanted to hurt her because she was here and Sabrina wasnat, but he knew it wouldnat be wise. After the old man was dead, then he could do just as he pleased, but until that cherished day arrived, he would have to moderate his actions.
There was a knock on the bedchamber door. Maryas eyes flew open to look at him in consternation.
aCover yourself, quickly.a She jumped from the bed, frantically straightening her clothes. Trevor straightened the covers, and pulled his dressing gown closed. He motioned Mary behind the screen in the corner of the room.
aWho is it?a he called, his voice querulous, an invalidas voice.
aItas Jesperson, sir. His lordship wishes to speak with you in the library.a aA moment. I must dress. Are you certain this is important? What does his lordship want?a aThere is someone he wishes you to meet, sir.a aVery well. Send me my valet.a He turned to Mary. aYou might as well do something useful while you are here.a He pointed to the chamber pot. aI will call you when I require you again.a She made a silent vow in that moment that she would never again come near him, but just as she thought it, she knew she probably would. She took the chamber pot and left the bedchamber. She knew he forgot about her the moment she was out of his sight. She also knew that when the old earl died, Monmouth Abbey would become a very different place. She thought of Lady Elizabeth. She hadnat much liking for that bitter young woman, but still, she knew Trevor would make her life a misery once he was the undisputed master here.
When she reached the door, she looked back at him over her shoulder. He had shucked off his dressing gown and stood naked by the fireplace. His body was not as beautifully formed as his face. He appeared soft and white, almost like a woman. But he wasnat anything like a woman. The pain head inflicted still remained, but it seemed only to heighten the memory of the ferocious pleasure he had given her as well. She pa.s.sed his valet in the long corridor. The man knew shead been with his master. He looked straight through her.
Trevor walked into the library some twenty-five minutes later.
It was about time, the earl thought, looking at him with as little dislike as possible showing on his face. aAh, here you are, Trevor. This is the Marquess of Arysdale. Richard, my nephew, Trevor Eversleigh.a Trevor stretched out his beringed fingers and winced as the dark, powerfully built man mangled them in a strong handshake.
aMy lord,a he said in a soft, smooth voice, ait is an honor.a He turned an emerald ring on his finger, away from the bitten skin that had been crushed by the marquessas large hand.
The marquess saw this gesture, took in Trevoras fobs, high shirt points, and lavender waistcoat, and instinctively drew back. G.o.d, he thought, disgusted, the man was a vain c.o.xcomb. He hoped to heaven that he wasnat also a pederast. That would do no good at all for the Eversleigh line.
aTrevor, the marquess is here because of Sabrina. He is gravely concerned, just as we are, about her disappearance.a Trevor drew a lace handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and daubed his forehead. aIt is a tragedy, my lord. My poor Elizabeth is prostrate with grief. There has been no sign of Sabrina, nothing at all to help us find her.a The marquess wondered, dispa.s.sionately, if Elizabeth were still a virgin. He prayed not. He said pleasantly, although it was difficult faced with this vain idiot, aIam to marry Sabrina, sir, and am looking for a logical explanation for her leaving.a A furious pulse beat in Trevoras neck. He wasnat, however, stupid. aI fear, my lord,a he said, his voice high and lisping now, athat I canat be of a.s.sistance to you. Of course, my sister-in-lawas precipitous departure has come as a great shock. No one has any idea why she left.a The marquess turned away, unable to hide his contempt, and quickly drew on his gloves. aI wonat trouble you further,a he said to the earl.