The Offer

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The Offer Page 32

by Catherine Coulter


  Sabrina said, “And then it was all right? You truly enjoyed this, Susannah?”

  “Yes, I truly did. I truly do.”

  “But Phillip did this to me three times, all in one night, one after the other. It wasn’t very nice at all, but because I loved him, I endured. What else can a woman do when she loves a man but endure?”

  “Exactly right,” Phillip said.

  “Phillip, what the hell happened?”

  He looked at his boyhood friend and said simply, “I was a blockhead. She wouldn’t accept my expertise, but I should have known that it would take more than simple expertise. But I won’t ever be a blockhead again.” He was no longer flushed. He took two steps toward his wife. “No, don’t retreat from me, Sabrina. Do you swear before these witnesses that you love me?”

  “I swear.”

  “Good. Now I swear that I love you as well. Actually I probably love you more. My love for you has been simmering, like a damned stew, for a very long time. It’s grown stronger and stronger, it just took me longer to realize what it was and to admit it. It’s still boiling over a steady flame. I daresay that flame won’t ever go out.”

  “That makes no sense at all. You’ll just keep boiling? You won’t boil away?”

  “Never. I also swear to you that tonight, just after we can politely leave our guests, you and I are going to enjoy ourselves, immensely. Will you trust me on this?”

  She didn’t say a word, just stared at him.

  “Trust him,” Susannah said. “Yes, you should trust him. A man and a woman together, it can be glorious, Sabrina. Life is so very uncertain, so unwieldy sometimes, that coming together with a man you truly love can make sense of everything, make everything very clear to you. It can make problems disappear. It can make annoyances, burdens, much lighter.”

  Rohan said, “If you agree to trust him, Sabrina, to give him another chance, then I’ll give him the gift Susannah and I brought him from Mountvale Hall. Your trust would turn the tide, I should say. I would believe him worthy of the gift then. It would prove that commitment wasn’t abhorrent to him. It would prove that he’s become a steady man.”

  “Do you know,” Sabrina said slowly, looking at each of them in turn, “this is quite the oddest thing that has ever happened to me. Phillip, you invited them here because you were afraid I wouldn’t listen to you?”

  “I felt I needed character witnesses.”

  “Will you tell him you trust him, Sabrina?” Susannah said, sitting forward.

  Sabrina said slowly, “I believe that now I’m going to go find Charlotte beneath the Moorish arches. I want her to give me some lessons in how to make the best use of my eyes.”

  Phillip groaned. “I will be undone by your mother, Rohan.”

  “Think of my mother as another character witness, Phillip,” Rohan said, grabbed a delicate mulberry cream cake in the shape of a cat, gave his wife a beatific smile, and rolled his eyes.

  His mouth was on her belly, nibbling as he would on one of Cook’s lemon spice cakes, then smoothing where he’d nipped with his tongue. It tickled and she giggled. Much of her nervousness fell away when he looked up at her, and smiled widely. “That’s a wonderful sound. It warms me to my, er, never mind what. Just relax, Sabrina. Remember now, you trust me.”

  “Yes,” she said when his mouth was on hers. Since he’d kissed her until she was nearly out of her mind, it didn’t take long for her to scream, arch off the bed, and fling her hair into her eyes. “Phillip!”

  He pushed her and pushed her, then drew back, calming her, slowing down his rhythm, until she was drawing heaving breaths, and again, he smiled. Her pleasure was beautiful to him. It warmed him to his toes. “Now,” he said and came over her, and very gently, very slowly, he came into her. She raised her hips, her hands stroking down his back. “Oh yes, I like that,” she said and bit his shoulder. “I’m glad Charlotte told me to trust you. Oh, goodness, Phillip, this is very strange. It feels like nothing any person could possibly imagine. Can we do it again after we finish it this time?”

  He groaned, threw back his head, and let himself take his release. It was rending and powerful and he was nearly dead with the pleasure of it.

  “Yes,” he said five minutes later when he was finally able to speak again. “Yes, in a few more minutes, we’ll do it again.”

  Between kisses, she said, “The candlelight is too dim for me to practice my eye lessons on you.”

  “Trust me again, Sabrina. You don’t need any lessons.”

  Her hand stroked down his back, over his flanks. “All right,” he said, and brought her over on top of him. He grinned up at her. “What do you say, wife? Do you want to be the one in control?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  When she did, she very much enjoyed herself. As did Phillip. When she was sprawled atop him, her face against his neck, breathing hard, she said, “Did I ride you well?”

  “Oh yes, you did. I also like the way you bite me. It’s almost like my sweet old mare, she bites my shoulder, then smiles at me.”

  “That’s ridiculous, a mare smile?”

  “Yes, I found her moldering in a stable in Scotland last summer when Rohan and Susannah and I were there. She nipped me and smiled at me. I sent for her, as I promised her I would do. She’s been with me since last October. She neighs whenever I come near.”

  “I met her. She didn’t seem to like me at all. She didn’t try to bite me.”

  “I will try to talk her into accepting you.”

  “Phillip, I’m glad I trusted you. That is really very nice, all those things you do.”

  “Would you like to learn things to do to me?”

  She came up on her elbows, her hair tumbling down on either side of her face, forming a curtain around their faces. Her eyes were sparkling. “Yes, oh, please. What?”

  “Tomorrow. Tonight, now that I’ve pleasured you twice, I feel free to tell you that if you ever run away from me again, I’ll strangle you and throw your body into the River Ledlow. It’s an ugly muddy excuse for a river, but you’ll deserve it. Do you swear you’ll not run out on me again?”

  “I swear. Shall I also swear not to throw things at you?”

  He thought about that for a moment. “No, I’m learning how to move quickly. It’ll keep me on my toes, else I’ll get a plate or a lemon tart in my face.” He became suddenly serious again. He eased her onto her back, and came up on his elbow to look down at her. “You’re beautiful, Sabrina. You must accustom yourself to hearing that from me. But you want to know something else? You’re the woman God fashioned just for me. You’re precious. You mean more to me than the crenelated tower you and I will build together. I love you and I will love you until I cock up my toes. Will you accept my word? Will you accept me?”

  She raised her hand to lightly stroke her fingers over his cheek. “I will thank God each night for bringing Trevor into the world.”

  “Trevor? What’s this about?”

  “If it weren’t for Trevor, I wouldn’t have met you. Well, if I had eventually met you in London, I doubt you would have given me a second glance.”

  Phillip didn’t agree with her at all, but he smiled down at her, kissed her yet again, and said, “We will drink to Trevor on the morrow then. Can I pound the bastard into the ground again?”

  “Perhaps, in the future. But we’ll do it together.”

  Together, he thought. He’d never been part of a together before. It felt quite nice. He fell asleep with Sabrina pressed against him, the memory of her featherlight kisses on his chest deep in his dreams.

  He jerked bolt upright in bed. He was wide awake. It was the middle of the night.

  “Phillip? What’s the matter? Are you all right? Do you want me to trust you some more? I’d like that.”

  “Yes, I would too, but now I want my gift that Rohan promised me. Do you know what it is? I forgot all about it. He said he’d give it to me if I pleased you.”

  “I’ll tell him you pleased me. You’l
l get your gift.”

  “I want a silly grin on your face when you tell him,” he said, getting out of bed. “The sillier the grin the more likely it is he’ll believe you.”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Yes, so it is, but Rohan deserves to be awakened. He should have given me my gift on speculation. He should have given me my gift because he knew I wouldn’t let you down again.”

  The floor was icy beneath his bare feet. He grabbed his dressing gown and pulled it on. He fastened the belt tightly. “I want my gift now. What room are he and Susannah in?”

  “The Blue Damson Room. Phillip, wait for me!”

  Three minutes later, after a sharp knock on the door of the Blue Damson Room, Rohan awoke to see a candle shining toward him and Susannah. Something was wrong. Oh, God, what had happened? Wait, it was Phillip. What was going on? Sabrina was standing right behind him.

  “Phillip, what’s going on? What are you and Sabrina doing in our bedchamber in the middle of the night? Susannah, no, love, it’s all right. It’s just Phillip and Sabrina. Doubtless they’ll tell us why they’re here at this particular moment in time.”

  “I want my gift, Rohan. You said you brought me a gift.”

  “Oh, that,” Rohan said and yawned. He straightened in the bed and scratched his belly. “Susannah, Phillip wakes us up in the middle of the night to get his gift. Should we give it to him?”

  Susannah looked at him, then at Sabrina. “He pleased you?”

  “Oh yes, please give him his gift now.”

  “If I haven’t squashed her,” Rohan said. “Where is she?”

  “It’s true,” Phillip nearly shouted, running to the bed. “You brought me a racing kitten! I’ve wanted a racing cat since I was a little boy, but the Harker brothers never deemed me worthy of one. They always said I wasn’t responsible enough, that a true racer always needed commitment, just what they always said about you, Rohan, and they finally gave you Gilly’s son. Now I’ve got my own racing kitten to train and to teach.” He quickly set the candle down on the night stand, turned and hauled Sabrina up against him. He picked her up and whirled her around. “A racing kitten, Sabrina. Finally!”

  “Let me find her, Phillip. Ah, here she is.” Susannah pulled a boneless kitten, still asleep, from beneath the covers. “She’s just nine weeks old. The Harker brothers say she’s ready to begin training. They’ve sent instructions. I wrote them down for you. You’re to swear to keep them confidential. You know how the Harker brothers are. Now, here she is.”

  Phillip reverently took the tiny kitten from Susannah’s hands. It was black and white, soft as Sabrina’s skin just behind her knees. It opened its eyes and looked up at him, gold eyes unblinking. Phillip gently rubbed his finger beneath the kitten’s chin. “She’s wonderful. What shall we name her, Sabrina?”

  Sabrina took the kitten and cuddled her against her breast. “Nothing sentimental. A racing cat doesn’t want to sound sentimental, no one would take her seriously. Let’s give her a grand name, one that calls forth great feats. Let’s name her Olympia.”

  “Oh yes,” Phillip said, taking the kitten back. He kissed the small face, smoothed back the whiskers. “Olympia. That has a ring to it, doesn’t it? I’m already thinking of great feats. When we visit your grandfather in a couple of weeks, we’ll take Olympia with us. Your grandfather has an interest in racing cats. He knew all about the Mountvale trainers, about the cat races at the McCaultry Racetrack.”

  Phillip, his wife, and his new racing kitten left the Blue Damson Room, Phillip whistling softly to the kitten.

  Sabrina turned in the doorway. Both Rohan and Susannah were smiling toward her. “Thank you both. You’ve made him very happy.”

  “It’s not even close, Sabrina,” Rohan said. “You’re at his center now. No, not even close.”

  “Do you think, then, that he might carry me around and whistle to me?”

  Sabrina left them laughing. Life was wonderful. Just wonderful.

  Phillip said as he and Sabrina settled back into their bed, “I have both a wife and a racing kitten to train to become one of the top racing cats in all of England. I doubt building a dozen crenelated towers can get better than this.”

  Sabrina rubbed her palm over his belly. “I wonder,” she said between nipping bits, “which you prefer, me or Olympia?”

  “There’s no contest. Er, how fast do you think you can run, Sabrina?”

  She fell asleep with laughter still in her heart, her head on Phillip’s shoulder, her nose nearly touching Olympia’s small outstretched paw, the kitten sprawled on his chest.

  Epilogue

  McCaultry Racetrack

  N ear Eastbourne, two and a half years later

  The crowd was shrieking. There were six racers, but only Gilly from Mountvale Mews and Olympia from Dinwitty stables were now in contention. Gilly was running his paws off to reach Jamie, who stood at the finish line, singing Gilly’s favorite limerick. Just behind Gilly, on the inside, ran Olympia, her long legs eating up the ground, her eyes focused on the Dinwitty strategy, namely, Cook from Dinwitty Manor, who was just standing at the finish line, beside the singing Jamie, her arms crossed over her massive bosom, calling out in a piercing voice that nearly drowned out Jamie, “Here, my sweetie. Here, my little kitty. Here’s your favorite—steak and smoked oyster pie. Just think of all those kidneys, diced up real nice and small, and the steak, in long thin strips, just as you like it, and the smoked oysters, that will have your tongue singing. Come to Cook, Olympia. That’s my darling, come to Cook.”

  Then Cook pulled a packet out of her bosom, unwrapped it, and held up a long strip of steak. The odor wafted down the track. Olympia jumped a foot in the air, kicked dirt in Gilly’s face, and within seconds was across the finish line, the clear winner, bounding toward Cook and that strip of steak.

  Phillip Mercerault was holding his small son, Alexander, in his arms when Olympia came flying over the finish line, tail fluffed, fluting a high meow of victory. Alexander screamed with laughter when Olympia jumped into Cook’s arms and ripped the strip of steak from her hand.

  There was wild applause intermingled with grumbling for those who had bet on one of the other racers. As for the champion, Gilly, he left the track, his head held high, allowing Jamie to carry him to where Susannah and Rohan stood.

  Susannah Carrington was yelling congratulations to Olympia, even as she leaned down and picked up Gilly, holding him close and kissing his dusty neck. Then she let her daughter, Violette, give him a consoling pat. Marianne, now nearly seven, was saying to Rohan, “I could smell that steak. Are you certain that’s fair, Papa? I started drooling when I smelled that wonderful smell.”

  “A new racing technique, pumpkin,” Rohan said, and kissed his daughter. “The Harker brothers will just invent something else for us, something more powerful that will have your aunt Sabrina and uncle Phillip gnashing their teeth when next we win. You’ll see.”

  Later that evening, back at Mountvale, Julien and Katherine St. Clair, the Earl and Countess of March, joined the Carringtons and the Merceraults at the dining table. They’d just produced a son, Damien, the previous year, who was now sleeping in the nursery with all the other offspring. They spoke of marriage contracts among the children, but then Phillip, sighing, said, “All of you know as well as I do that the chance of any of our children doing anything that we wish them to do will be equal to the number of races Gilly will win with Olympia in the race.”

  Rohan threw a muffin at his friend. “We will see. I have infinite faith in the Harker brothers. Now, back to our children. There aren’t yet enough to have a really good mix. We must get to it, Susannah,” he said to his wife, “and provide more choices for all the offspring.”

  “We must help in this also,” Phillip said, patting his wife’s shoulder, a lovely shoulder that was very white and not as thin as it was when they’d first married.

  “Perhaps,” Sabrina said, “just perhaps we shall.”

&
nbsp; “And you, my lord?” the Countess of March said to her husband. “Will we also do our share?”

  “I believe we will, Kate. Yes, I do believe we will.”

  Talk turned to Richard Clarendon, the Marquess of Arysdale, whose beloved father had recently died, making Richard the Duke of Portsmouth. “I wonder,” Phillip said over a glass of tart white wine, “if Richard will ever find a woman who will make him realize what he’s all about.”

  “Yes, a woman who will claim him right and tight,” said Sabrina. “Just as I did you, Phillip.”

  “Who knows?” said Rohan Carrington, and raised his glass to all his friends.

  Susannah said, “To well-fought cat races and good friends.”

  “Amen to that,” Phillip said. He sipped his wine, then leaned over to lightly kiss his wife on her mouth.

  September 10, 1974–May 2, 1997

  Gilly, my old warrior, died quickly and easily on Friday, May 2nd.

  He leaves many people who loved him dearly.

 

 

 


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