by Liana Lefey
His gaze met hers.
She looked away. Damn him! Peeved at having been caught, she snatched a flower from a bush alongside the path and, without thinking, proceeded to shred the poor blossom.
“He seems to delight in vexing you,” said Chadwick. “I can tell you are displeased by his presence. Why is he here?”
She looked at him, surprised by his keen observation and irritated with herself for betraying the depth of her upset. “Mama invited him. His mother and mine were childhood friends. We, however, were not.”
“Then he is not courting you?”
“Good heavens, no,” she answered with a little laugh. “He’s far too old for me. The man paid court to Eugenia, once upon a time. You are correct in that he seems to enjoy bedeviling me. He did so when I was a child, and unfortunately, he appears never to have grown beyond such immature entertainments.”
“My mother is fond of saying that though men age, they never truly become adults,” said Chadwick, smiling again. “I intend to prove her wrong, of course,” he quickly amended, his cheeks catching fire.
She repressed a smile of her own. He was trying so hard to impress her, but he just kept bungling it, the poor fellow.
Behind them, Montgomery and her mother laughed again, shattering the momentary peace she’d attained. She scowled. No doubt they were still discussing the snake incident. He’d waited ten years to tattle on her. Ten years! Not that it really mattered, now she was grown, but it still rankled. He ought to have been the one who’d discovered that snake, not his valet. “The Red Pestilence” indeed! If she lacked remorse for her childhood pranks, it was because his torment had been well deserved.
“Do not let him steal your enjoyment of the day, my lady,” said Chadwick softly.
She looked into his sympathetic brown eyes. He was right. Montgomery was deliberately tweaking her nose, and she was letting him get away with it. No more. “Let us look at the water, shall we?” she said with a sweet smile.
Henry watched the couple ahead. Sabrina’s prickly reaction every time he laughed was telling. She obviously still considered him the enemy.
Chadwick was, from the look of things, smitten in the way only a young man in the first blush of utter infatuation can be. The slip of paper he’d pressed on her was no doubt an impassioned plea for her favor.
Had he ever been that young and impetuous? Logic said yes, but experience said no. He’d never been so taken with a woman that he’d behaved like the man in front of him.
He watched as Sabrina, clearly dismayed by her escort’s temerity, pocketed the note and moved farther down the path toward the water.
He turned to Lady Aylesford with a smile. “Being here brings back some wonderful memories.”
“I should hope so,” she replied. “You always seemed to like it here. At least until your visits were sabotaged.”
“But those memories are some of my fondest.”
She turned unbelieving eyes on him. “Surely you jest.”
“No indeed. I looked forward to each visit.” He laughed. “Truth be told, I could hardly wait to see what she would try next. She never failed to surprise me.” He didn’t tell her, but outwitting little Sabrina had been quite an elaborate and time-consuming game—one he’d thoroughly enjoyed, despite only rarely ever winning the battle. He ought to have been mortified to be bested by a child ten years his junior, but in truth, he’d only been impressed by her ingenuity and fearless attitude.
“In fact”—he hesitated—“I would like to ask your opinion on a matter of some delicacy.”
She looked at him sidelong. “You wish to court her?”
Startled, he looked to see a knowing smile on her face.
“I was wondering when you would broach the subject. I could tell you were interested in her when I saw you together at the ball,” she said with a soft chuckle.
“And you have no objection to my courting her? Even though I was once Eugenia’s—”
She dismissed his concern with a wave. “That was years ago, and Eugenia was already in love with Afton. I told Harry it was a bad idea, but he insisted on giving it a go. You have my blessing to court Sabrina, if such is your wish.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said. “You’ll have some convincing to do with that one, first.” She nodded toward her daughter, who was down by the pond. “She still thinks of you in terms of ink and snakes.”
A flash of red caught his eye. The breeze had snatched her hat away, and now it settled on the rippling surface of the water, leaving her fiery head exposed.
He let out a laugh as he saw her stamp her foot in frustration. Yes, indeed. Some things never changed.
AS SOON AS the gentlemen departed, Sabrina retreated to her chamber. Damn that Montgomery! Why did he have to ruin everything? The moment they’d come in view of the pond, he’d told another embarrassing story—the one about her falling out of the boat at the picnic. And this time Chadwick had heard. To his credit, he had not laughed along with the rest of them. He had, instead, been most adamantly not amused, which had been even worse.
Pulling out the little note he had pressed on her, she grimaced. She ought to toss it into the fire.
Still…it was her very first love letter. Giving in to curiosity, she broke the seal and unfolded the paper just as the hinges of her door creaked.
Eugenia peeked in. “May I?”
“Oh, of…of course,” Sabrina stammered, trying to hide the paper. But it was too late.
“I see I’ve interrupted a bit of clandestine reading,” said Eugenia, grinning. “Well, which one is it from?”
“Which one do you think?” Sabrina answered tartly.
Eugenia sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “Are you going to read it, or not?”
“How is little William?”
“Sound asleep—and don’t change the subject. I’ve seen the note. It’s pointless to try and keep it to yourself. Read it.”
Sighing in defeat, Sabrina withdrew the letter. Her eyes rolled heavenward as Eugenia squashed in close beside her to read aloud:
My Dearest Lady Sabrina,
I have thought of little but your lovely face since the moment we met. You are the very sun in my sky, and I should love nothing better than to bask in the light of your grace and beauty for all eternity. Pray, do not make me wait overlong for the next sunrise.
Your Devoted Servant,
Tristan V. Chadwick
“Oh, that is lovely!” laughed Eugenia, plucking the page from her hands and setting it aside. “At least he refrained from trying to pass off Shakespeare’s sonnets as original prose the way my first suitor did.”
“Yes, at least there is that,” Sabrina muttered.
“What, you’re not thrilled about young master Chadwick’s affection for you?” asked Eugenia, feigning shock. “Pity, I thought him rather sweet. He would break his neck to try and please you, you know. Not a bad thing in a husband, if you ask me.”
“I did not ask. It’s too bad you’re not on the market—then you could marry him, since you like him so much.”
Her sister stared at her knowingly.
“Oh, Eugenia, it’s not that he isn’t nice, but he just isn’t—”
“Henry?” supplied Eugenia, her smile widening. “Your attitude toward him today was quite telling, sister dear.”
“What do you mean? I did my best to try and ignore the brute.”
“Precisely. Have I not always said that the best way to attract a man is to ignore him?”
Sabrina’s mouth dropped open. How could she have forgotten the first rule? Blast it all!
“What I would like to know is why you should wish to be rid of him,” prodded Eugenia. “He is perfect for you, and quite obviously interested.”
“Interested? He brought up ancient history and threw it in my face. Then, after you abandoned me”—she glared pointedly—“he told even more embarrassing stories about me, and in front of an outsider!”
“Any man who calls on a woman ten years after she put a snake in his pocket is definitely interested.”
“He’s too old.” She couldn’t tell her the truth, that any man who could make her feel the way he did would have entirely too much power over her. Such a man would take her heart and soul as well as her body, and that was unacceptable.
Her sister’s brown eyes twinkled. “My husband is thirteen years my senior, and I can assure you that I am quite happily married.”
“He’s insensitive, quarrelsome, and confrontational,” Sabrina argued, refusing to concede.
“What man isn’t? The main point is: Are you attracted to each other? I think you are.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“I think you blushed every time you looked at him—right to the very tips of your ears,” sang Eugenia.
“And I think you are a busybody!”
“So you are attracted to him, then. I thought as much.”
“I didn’t say—”
“You don’t have to, darling. I could see it as plain as the nose on King George’s face.”
Frustration filled Sabrina as she stared at her sister. Eugenia’s face was set, her eyes far too knowing. Fine. The truth, then. “So what if I am? It doesn’t mean I shall marry him.”
“Why don’t you tell me the real reason you won’t consider him? And don’t bother bringing up the fact that he once courted me, because he didn’t. Not really. We weren’t suited and we both knew it. Neither of us wanted to marry the other.”
Sabrina could feel her teeth clenching. She’d kept it to herself all these years, and it just didn’t seem right to let it out now. But there seemed little choice if she wanted Eugenia to understand and help her get rid of Montgomery. How ironic that they should switch places now, ten years after she’d played the saboteur. “I don’t wish to marry a man to whom I am attracted.”
Eugenia stared at her in bewilderment. “Why ever not?”
“Mama loved Papa, and look how she suffered because of it,” she replied softly.
“Sabrina, you don’t know that. Mama and Papa were—”
“I do know, Eugenia,” Sabrina interrupted. “You were all so engrossed in your own affairs that perhaps you didn’t notice that not all was well between them. But I did. All those times you had me play spy for you, I saw. I heard. It all started that day with the snake. After that, I began paying attention. Especially to the servants’ talk. They speak quite freely about us when they don’t know we’re listening.”
“What did they say?”
“They said that Papa had not shared Mama’s bed in years. They spoke of how he took a new mistress every year and spent a fortune on her upkeep. They whispered about how his bastards pepper the villages around our country estate. It broke Mama’s heart. And I know it all to be true, Eugenia. I heard them arguing, and then listened to her crying. I heard everything.”
Eugenia said nothing.
Sabrina knew there was nothing to be said. Truth was truth. “At first, I was wroth with him over what I perceived as a terrible betrayal. But then I saw how much he genuinely cared for her and that he tried to make her happy in spite of her inability to…” She couldn’t say that. Not to anyone, not even Eugenia. “Papa was not a heartless reprobate.”
“No. He was not,” her sister agreed. “He was a wonderful father and a doting husband. And I don’t know what you heard or saw, but he and Mama were almost embarrassing in their openness of affection when I was a child.” She shook her head. “Something terrible must have happened.”
“What happened is that Papa was no different from any other man.” It did not come out as she intended, and she faltered under the harsh look Eugenia directed at her. “Eugenia, we women must face the fact that at some point, all married men take a lover or mistress. Passion simply does not last a lifetime, at least not mutually. It cannot. Men have certain…needs.” She felt herself blush, and hurried on. “Mama’s problem lay in that she could not accept the reality. She expected too much of Papa. I will not make that mistake with my husband.”
“I think you’re wrong. About everything. Have you ever asked Mama about it?”
“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Sabrina cut in stubbornly, unwilling to answer the question. “The decision is mine to make, and I choose to marry sensibly. I have no desire to fall prey to the misery of loving a man who cannot be faithful to me.”
“Then who will you marry?”
“I’ve selected the eldest son of Baron Middleton.”
“Fairford? He’s a bit aloof—and what about that Childers woman?”
“Exactly my point. He is a known quantity. Therefore, I shall have no illusions about him.”
“But surely you wish to at least be on friendly terms with your husband?”
“And I shall,” Sabrina replied with confidence. “A sensible man like him will understand my desire for a sensible arrangement.”
“Henry is quite sen—”
“Montgomery is anything but sensible,” Sabrina exclaimed, her patience at an end. “He is a pompous, irritating, immature, name-calling—”
“Pax!” cried Eugenia, waving her hands in laughing surrender. “The choice is ultimately yours, Sabrina. But if you want my advice, I’d say Henry is the better man. He’s certainly a better man than most, and I ought to know. You would do well to snap him up.”
“Again, I don’t recall asking, but thank you for your opinion,” Sabrina huffed. “Now, if you will excuse me, I wish to rest before changing for dinner.”
“Of course, my dear,” said Eugenia, rising. “I completely understand. Being besieged by one’s admirers can be so exhausting.” She ducked just in time to avoid the pillow aimed at her head. “Especially when they shower you with such ardent prose,” she added, just before slipping out.
Even in her foul mood, Sabrina couldn’t help but laugh. She fell back on her bed, feeling really and truly “besieged.” Flanked by the devil on one side and a besotted puppy on the other, with her nosy, meddling family in between, she’d be fit for Bedlam by the end of the Season.
The Somerset ball was the perfect place to launch a second campaign.
She had chosen her armor with care, and wore pale, corn-flower-blue silk traced with delicate silver embroidery embellished with tiny pearls—and the lowest décolletage her mother would tolerate. The gazes tracking her progress told her she’d chosen well: the men’s were satisfyingly appreciative, the women’s satisfyingly not.
Her pleasure dissolved as she spied Chadwick, who appeared to be anxiously searching for someone.
Please don’t see me! she thought, trying in vain to hurry her mother along.
No such luck. He managed to join them just before they were announced, making them appear a trio. Mortification filled her at the resulting flurry of whipping necks and wagging chins. She wanted to run and hide. Instead, she forced herself to walk on with head held high, looking everywhere but at her impromptu escort.
Inadvertently, her gaze lit upon Lord Montgomery. Impotent rage swept through her at the sight of his knowing smile. She turned to look elsewhere, anywhere but at him, and caught sight of Miss Bidewell and her mother. Both were staring at her and Chadwick with naked hostility.
Lady Bidewell’s flaring nostrils made her look like a bull ready to charge. Before she could stop it, a smile spread across Sabrina’s face.
Lady Bidewell’s ample breast heaved and her cheeks darkened further.
Damn! thought Sabrina. Why, oh why couldn’t she behave herself? What devil prodded her to such constant impertinence? Forcing a neutral expression to her face, she looked at Chadwick out of a desperate need to find something safe upon which to rest her gaze.
Fortunately, Chadwick appeared not to have noticed. He was too busy strutting at her side like a bloody peacock, nodding to passersby as if he were King George himself on promenade.
The nightmare worsened as she caught sight of Fairford—staring right at her.
The bottom fell out of her stomach.
At that same moment, Lord Montgomery appeared before her. Faint strangling noises issued from her escort as Montgomery bowed and made a display of taking up and kissing both of her hands. “My lady, such loveliness as yours must make the stars themselves grow dim with shame,” he said—loudly.
She froze, her gut immediately tying itself into a complicated knot. Whether the reaction was due to mortification or because his thumb was grazing her palm, she could not tell. Somewhere amid the half-formed thoughts flitting through her mind, she registered the fact that his thumb bore a callus. The slight roughness felt rather oddly pleasant as he traced small, slow circles, filling her palm with liquid fire.
Chadwick was not to be put aside so easily. He shot Montgomery a sour look. “Indeed, my lady. One can only agree, and add that such beauty as yours inspires neither rest nor peace in a man’s heart. Yet, one smile from your lips, and I am instantly restored. I long for your smiles, as one longs for the sunrise after a long, dark night.”
The reference to his own awkward prose fell on deaf ears, however, as Montgomery came closer. “If your beauty disturbs one’s repose, my lady, it certainly doesn’t make one long for the sunrise.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her pulse began to hammer. “And though it is indeed a most potent restorative, no smile can cure that with which you have afflicted me. I believe I would require something far more tangible from your lips to cure my ailment.”
The scathing retort she’d been formulating dried up. His lazily circling thumb now grazed the base of her wrist, sparking feather brushings of unspeakable heat between her legs.
“Would you care to dance?”
“I would be delighted,” she answered automatically, the huskiness of her own voice surprising her as much as the speed of her response. Why did I agree to dance with him?
