The Offer

by Catherine Coulter

  Phillip had known everything, had warned her again and again, and she’d laughed in his face. She looked at herself in the narrow mirror over the mantelpiece. Her face was a stranger’s, set, thin, dark circles beneath her eyes.

  “It’s been proved,” she said to that pathetic stranger in the mirror, “you’re a fool. A very stupid fool. A fool who has no future. All you have is a string of days that will stretch out without end into months and then into years.” She felt sudden fury at the injustice of it all and smashed her fisted hand into the mirror. The glass shattered and she looked at the blood that was beginning to trickle down her fingers.

  Toward midnight, after hours of frustrated thinking, an idea came to her. The world hadn’t changed, but she certainly had. She’d nurtured romantic ideas about a future that could no longer be hers, then she’d allowed herself to wallow in self-pity, to act the broken, helpless female.

  Yes, finally an idea. She would have to have the resolve to get it done. But she could do it. She knew she could do it. She finally fell into a deep sleep.

  Phillip didn’t return to London on Monday. He returned from Dinwitty Manor on Saturday, earlier than expected. The fact of the matter was, he had missed her, curse those incredible violet eyes of hers. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, wondering if she was finally well and back to her former energy, which he imagined was formidable, hoping she was eating enough, wondering if she would like Cook’s offerings here at Dinwitty Manor, and knew she’d swoon at the food here, everyone did.

  He’d come back to disaster. He sat now in the library of his town house on Wednesday, staring thoughtfully into space, his fingers wrapped about a folded piece of stationery.

  It had taken nearly more determination than he laid claim to not to go to Sabrina as soon as he’d known the full extent of her disgrace. He’d even had Dambler speak to other servants so that he would know everything. It was bad. But he’d stayed put. He guessed that if he’d gone to the Cavendish Hotel on Saturday or even Sunday or Monday, she would have been more furious than reasonable. He could easily imagine her anger, her bitterness, her sense of injustice at what had happened. He’d even wondered if she’d blamed him for being right. Of course she would. The messenger always got the knife in the innards.

  He unfolded the note and read it swiftly through once again. At last. He doubted he could have stayed away from her much longer. She had a business matter to discuss with him, did she? At least she still had guts. She’d thought it all through and come up with a solution. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say. It seemed to him now that he’d done the right thing by not going to her immediately, by offering his services yet again. No, now she was the one to offer. She’d finally come to her senses. He wondered as he allowed Dambler to assist him to dress exactly what she would say to him.

  27

  On Wednesday at half past four in the afternoon, Viscount Derencourt lightly knocked on the door of the suite of rooms at the Cavendish Hotel. Thank the good Lord she had money. He’d found that out quickly. If she hadn’t secured her inheritance, he would have gone to her immediately.

  A heavy woman of indeterminate age and frankly vulgar manner admitted him as if he were a prize goose for her dinner.

  “I’m Viscount Derencourt. You may announce me to your mistress.” He was haughty and cold, guessing that Sabrina had endured more than enough disapproval from this wretched person. There was an avidity in her that truly repelled him. He wondered how she behaved around Sabrina.

  “After you’ve announced me, you may take yourself off.” He saw the woman’s slack-jawed disappointment before she turned and led him into a small drawing room.

  “Lady Sabrina, Viscount Derencourt is here to see you.”

  Although Sabrina had dressed herself with care, Phillip was appalled at her appearance. Her face was pale and drawn and she looked at him as if she fully expected him to denounce her, just as everyone else had.

  “My lord, I’m delighted you could come,” she said with such fear he wanted to simply take her in his arms and tell her never to worry about another thing for as long as she lived. But he couldn’t. She had a business proposition for him. He would play by the rules she’d set. He didn’t move. He watched her turn to the officious maid. “Hickles, you may go now. Do dress warmly, for it is quite chilly outside.”

  Phillip shrugged out of his greatcoat and gloves. As Sabrina took them, he said, “What did you do to your hand? Hold still, let me see.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said and whipped her bandaged hand behind her. “Thank you for coming, my lord. Will you please be seated?”

  “No, I first want to see what you did to your hand. Who bandaged it? A blind beggar?”

  “No, I did. It was difficult to bandage it well with just one hand. I cut it on a mirror. It isn’t important. It doesn’t hurt at all.”

  But he just stood there, his hands out. Finally, with a snort, she brought up her hand. He unwrapped the bandage and laid the cut bare. “It’s not too bad,” he said finally, “but I want to pour some brandy on it, just to make sure it’s really clean. Do you have anything of that sort here?”

  She nodded and turned away to the sideboard. The brandy was probably very cheap, but as medicine it surely wouldn’t matter.

  “Come here,” he said, and walked to the window. He opened it, then held her hand outside. He poured the brandy over her hand. She didn’t even jerk or moan. Fortunately there was no one walking below at that particular moment.

  “Now, let me bandage this right. Did that hurt?”

  Her hand was burning like it was on fire, but she shook her head. He wrapped her own bandage very carefully around her hand, then knotted it. “There, how does that feel?”

  “It’s fine, thank you.”

  “Would you like to tell me how you did it?”

  “No. I was simply clumsy. Really, it’s not important. Please, my lord.”

  He nodded and sat down. He steepled his fingers and smiled at her.

  “Would you care for tea?”

  “No. I daresay that conversation is what I would like most of all right at this moment.”

  “Very well.” She sat down opposite him. She was calm, seemingly in excellent control of herself. She was behaving quite well. If he showed her his concern, she would likely think that he was pitying her, and that, he knew, she would never accept.

  She didn’t say anything, just stared at him. To get her started, he said, “I received your note, Sabrina. You wrote that you have a business matter to discuss with me?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said finally, staring at a point just behind his left shoulder. “I suppose you know why I’m here.”

  “Oh, yes,” he said easily. “I returned to London last Saturday. I must say that you’re quite the talk. The stories have gotten so extraordinary that neither you nor I could be considered just ordinary human beings. My prowess alone must make every man in London gnash his teeth in envy.”

  She stared at him, in his face now. “You returned on Saturday? You knew what had happened and you did nothing? It’s Wednesday. Wednesday!”

  “Yes, that’s true. Now, what is your business matter?”

  She rose and drew herself up ramrod stiff. “You’re right, my lord—”

  “Phillip.”

  “Well, yes, you are Phillip. You were right about everything. I find that I’m disgraced, all because of one lady, Miss Teresa Elliott, who, I believe, wants you for herself. Even though I told her that she could have you, with my blessing, it didn’t matter. As you said, my lord, it would take but one vicious tongue and the damage would be done. My aunt, unfortunately, was not at all inclined to take my part in the matter; indeed, she believed everything anyone told her. She wanted me to return to Monmouth Abbey. You know I couldn’t do that, so I left her house.”

  “I won’t waste your time reminding you that I told you this would happen.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your restraint.
”

  He just smiled at her. “Yes. And this famous business matter of yours?”

  “I’ve thought about this a lot. I’ve never been without friends nor so much alone in my life, and I don’t want to continue in this way. It’s very difficult. It’s perhaps even more than difficult. It’s damning. I can’t continue to do it.”

  He could well imagine. So even marriage to him was preferable, he thought, without too much pain to his own vanity. It had cost her a great deal to admit this, particularly to him.

  “So you are lonely and alone. You don’t like it. So what is it you want to do, Sabrina?”

  “I want to make you an offer. I want you to marry me. It’s an honorable offer, Phillip. If you agree, you can have my remaining nine thousand five hundred and fifty pounds and my dowry. I have no idea how large it is, but it is probably sizable. The reason the ten thousand pounds isn’t intact is because my aunt Barresford dipped quite liberally into my funds, for both of us.”

  “You’re doubtless an heiress, Sabrina. Probably as much of an heiress as the Dinwitty lady back in the last century. That in itself makes this a very tempting business offer. Now, let me understand you. If I marry you, you will turn all your fortune over to me?”

  She hated the sound of it, hated giving away her independence. She’d only had it for five days. He sounded indifferent, as if they were counting sheep or turnips, as if it weren’t about marriage and about her future and saving her. “Yes,” she said, forcing herself to keep calm, matter-of-fact. “In addition to all my money, well, I have given this a lot of thought.” She cleared her throat. It wouldn’t be so difficult to say once it was out of her mouth. “I will also offer you your freedom. You’re young for a man, which I don’t understand since you’re eight years older than I am, but you’re considered younger than I for marriage purposes. In any case, you are not through spreading yourself throughout all the ladies of London. You may continue to spread yourself to the extent you wish to do so. My aunt told me that you’d never willingly wed as yet, because of all the still available ladies that you’d want to enjoy. Thus I knew I would have to make my offer worth your while.”

  “Ah, I understand now. You’re offering me my freedom, without any interference from you.”

  “Yes.”

  Phillip laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “I already have my freedom, Sabrina. Marriage doesn’t curtail a man’s freedom unless he’s a fool. Isn’t there something else besides all your funds to interest me?”

  She looked away, unwilling to let him see how his careless words sliced into her. She said barely above a whisper, “You can also have me if that is of any interest to you. But I’m sure you already know that I’m young and ignorant and really not at all toothsome. I’m probably nothing close to the ladies you can choose from. But there it is. I have nothing else, other than my mare, who is at Monmouth Abbey, and she’s lame.”

  “A mare is something, even a lame one.”

  She raised her head at that and he saw the beginnings of outrage. Excellent. “I am something as well.”

  “Yes, I suppose you are. Now, in addition to my freedom, which I already have, my part in all these machinations is to save you from disgrace. Give you the protection of my name.”

  “That’s right.” It sounded pathetic put that way. She was pathetic. There was no way around that. She waited to see what he’d say. She’d never hated anything quite so much in her life, except, of course, being at Trevor’s mercy.

  He rose and extended his hand. She gave him hers and he shook it. “I will accept your offer, Sabrina.”

  For a moment he thought she would faint with relief. Then color flooded her face, healthy color. He looked into that thin vivid face of hers, into those incredible eyes. “I seem to recall you saying that you wouldn’t marry where there is no love.”

  She wanted to strike him, but she knew she couldn’t. She was the supplicant. But she was furious and he knew she was furious and she was certain he mocked her. “You’re not stupid,” she said. “Everything has changed. My former life is gone. Actually, here I’m going to marry you and I don’t even like you at this moment.” And then the bitterness flowed out of her mouth. She simply couldn’t help it. “I can’t believe it! You’re still wonderful, greeted warmly by both men and women, invited everywhere. You’re not seen as morally bankrupt, but I am. It’s not fair!”

  “That’s true. I’ve never understood it myself, but that’s the way things work. I told you once that I knew this jungle very well and that you didn’t. Play by the rules, Sabrina, and you’ll survive this. You’ve already asked me to marry you. Marrying me was rule number one. You see, you’re already learning.”

  He sat back down in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.

  “I will learn all your damnable rules. Now, would you care for more tea?”

  Phillip sat forward suddenly and tapped his fingertips together. “Tell me, Sabrina, do you really offer yourself to me as well as your money and your horse?”

  Her hand shook. He saw it and she cursed. He heard that and smiled. “If I must,” she said at last. “But it’s true, what I said. I’m not beautiful, I’m skinny, and I don’t know anything. If you weren’t disgusted with me, then you’d laugh.”

  “I see. Now, you offered me my freedom—”

  “Yes.”

  “A freedom I already have. Now my question is do you intend to take a lover?”

  She turned as white as the walls. “Oh no, that’s repellent! After Trevor—oh no, never.”

  “But you’ve offered me your own precious self. Will you be able to survive it if I lay my hands on you?”

  She looked at her feet. “I don’t know. I also don’t know what’s involved in this mating business. From my experience with Trevor, I never want to have anything to do with any of it.”

  “What if I told you that it’s not that bad at all? That, given the right man, you just may find you like lovemaking.”

  “No, at least I can’t imagine enjoying it right now. I’ll do my duty. I promised. Yes, I told you that you could have me if you wished. I will keep to my end of the bargain.”

  “That sounds just dandy,” Phillip said, and pictured Sabrina lying still as a statue on the bed with him panting over her. It was an awful vision. Still, he knew what had happened to her. He’d been a bastard even to bring up the matter. She was terrified of men, and no wonder.

  He rose and placed his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened. He wasn’t surprised, but something inside him tightened, just a bit.

  “Sabrina,” he said, his voice gentle as a soft summer rain, “I’m sorry to frighten you. It wasn’t well done of me. You’re safe from me, I swear it to you. I will never force you to do anything that frightens or repels you. I’m happy to accept your offer. I will try to make you a good husband.” He paused a moment and lightly flicked his finger over her cheek. “We will do well together, you’ll see. Now, there is much to be done.”

  She looked up at him, her expression grave. “Is there a chance that my shame will bring you disgrace?”

  “No. Most people will think that I’ve done the right thing. Trust me to see that no one will ever hurt you again. Will you?”

  “My money is sufficient for you to make the sacrifice?”

  “More than sufficient. However, if I ever find myself reduced to living in a ditch, why, I’ll just strangle you and find myself another heiress.”

  He was kind. She was relieved. Indeed, she found the remnant of a smile. “I don’t want you to live in a ditch. I will school myself to practice the most stringent economies.”

  He pulled her to her feet and lightly kissed her brow. “I’ll teach you how to make viscount’s bread.”

  “Our first economy,” she said and let him draw her against his chest. For a moment she rested her cheek against his shoulder. She was no longer afraid. “I’ll try to make you a good wife, Phillip, I swear it.”
>
  He gave a low, deep laugh, then hugged her tightly. “A good wife. Now that is an appalling thought.”

  28

  Phillip stood by the mantelpiece in the library of his town house. He looked first at Charles Askbridge and then at Rohan Carrington.

  “I believe that’s the whole of it. Charlie, can you think of anything else to help Rohan get the full picture of this wretched debacle?”

  “No, but I don’t mind telling you I’m more relieved than I can say that Sabrina has finally come to her senses.”

  Rohan Carrington, Baron Mountvale, was shaking his head. “This makes my belly cramp, Phillip. Oh, I know it isn’t all that unusual, but to actually hear firsthand how a supposedly honorable man tried to rape an innocent girl under his protection. I really would prefer to kill him. If I were the old earl, I wouldn’t want that man’s blood in my future generations.”

  Phillip nodded. “All of us would like to kill him, but it comes down to preserving the line. The rotter is the next earl, curse his miserable hide, bad blood and all.”

  Charles said, “At least Phillip has ensured that Trevor and Elizabeth will tell no more lies about Sabrina.”

  “I still would like to kill him. So would Susannah,” Rohan added, picturing his wife of six months in his mind’s eye and her rage upon hearing this.

  Phillip said, “My God, the fellow will be my brother-in-law. How’s that for a fist in the face?”

  Rohan Carrington said, “What do you want us to do, Phillip?”

  “I need you to be your most autocratic and persuasive, Rohan. Do you think we can pull it off?”

  “Oh yes,” Rohan said, sipping his brandy. “There’s but one problem I see looming and that is the aunt, Lady Barresford. If she can be brought around to see reason, then I daresay we shouldn’t have much difficulty with the rest of society. It’s the relatives that always cause the most problems. It’s a pity my mother isn’t here. She could deal with Lady Barresford and still have enough energy to waltz the entire night.”