“Mittens?”
“You may name her whatever you wish. Farmer Walsh tells me she is about four months old. Completely trained to use a box of sand for her doings, a house cat in all ways. His wife suffered a form of hay fever and the poor thing was banished to the barn—the kitten, not Mrs. Walsh.”
A small giggle escaped Sabrina.
“Ah. There. The beginnings of a laugh.” He kissed her, but kept it brief. Before he ended it, she actually kissed him in return. A soft pressing, a searching, and he was sorely tempted to take it deeper. Patience. The kiss ended on her sigh, and he pulled her close to his rapidly beating heart.
Sabrina slipped her arms about his waist and embraced him in return. They stood together for interminable minutes, until finally he said, “Shall we introduce Mittens to her new home? She may become distressed if we leave her in the basket for much longer.”
“Thank you again. Only I know next to nothing about having a pet,” she whispered.
He kissed the top of her head, and her enchanting citrus scent surrounded him. He was fully aroused—there was no hiding it, and he didn’t even bother to try. Daringly, he rolled his hips, and his erection pressed closer against her thigh. Sabrina gazed up at him, her expression questioning. “You do this to me every time you’re near, whenever I kiss you or hold you. I cannot control it, nor do I wish to,” he revealed.
“You want me?” Her tone was incredulous.
“Yes. Desperately. But I will abide by your boundaries.” To show that he meant what he said, he released her and took a couple of steps in reverse. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
Her gaze rolled over him, lingering on his obvious hard shaft pressing against the fall of his trousers. Then, as her cheeks flushed a deeper crimson, she met his eyes. “In the past,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “a man in such a state filled me with abhorrence. With you? I feel…none of it.”
A spark of hope took root deep inside him. “Do you wish to discuss it?”
“Not tonight, but…soon. Perhaps later in the week.”
Riordan would not push her. Instead, he held out his hand. “Let us see your cat settled and find us a bite of supper.”
Another brief, slight smile. And perhaps an expression of relief. Sabrina took his hand and they headed for the parlor. Riordan picked up the basket. Opening it, Sabrina peered in. “She’s beautiful.”
“Take a seat and I’ll pass her to you.” Sabrina did as instructed. Taking great care not to spook the feline, Riordan lifted Mittens from her wicker imprisonment and held her close, speaking in soothing tones to calm the trembling animal. “She’s nervous, no doubt glad to be out of the barn, but not sure where she is and why. Don’t be alarmed if Mittens struggles or lashes out. Don’t take it personally.”
Riordan passed the kitten to Sabrina. The animal stared up at her with its large green eyes as if asking for her love and acceptance. “Go ahead and pet her, scratch under her chin,” he instructed. Sabrina did and was rewarded with loud purring. A brief giggle left her throat and the sound was glorious. “Where shall we set up her bed, here or in your room?”
Still petting the kitten, she gazed up at him. “Oh, my room. Next to the fireplace. What is the other container and the sand for?”
“As I stated earlier, Mittens is a house cat. She cannot be allowed outside on her own. She will be doing her business in the sandbox, and it will have to be cleaned daily. There is a lot of responsibility to having a pet. Are you willing to take it on? If not, I can find another home for Mittens.”
Sabrina hugged the kitten tighter. “No. I will take on the duty of caring for her.”
With a broad smile, Riordan motioned toward the kitten. “Allow her to explore and become acquainted with her new home.”
Sabrina seemed reluctant to let the kitten go, but when she did Mittens immediately moved about the parlor, taking in her surroundings.
“We should have supper.”
Jumping up from the chair, Sabrina clasped her hands together. “Allow me. You’ve had a long journey. Take a seat at the table.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded and hurried toward the kitchen. To be honest, he was fatigued—but not enough to dissipate his arousal. Blast, how could he function in this condition for the next two months? Eventually they would have to talk about it. Her past. Their feelings. And their future. By God, he wanted one with her.
Sabrina hurried toward the table with a plate and utensils and set them before him. “Mrs. Ingersoll brought cold ham slices and salad, easy enough to prepare.” She was pleased with herself. No doubt the first time she had ever waited on someone. “I’ll slice the bread—Mary showed me this afternoon, along with how to cut and serve a pie. Would you care for a glass of cold water from the pump?” She gave him another small smile. “I’ve learned how to use it as well.”
“Thank you, I would.” This from the spoiled woman of the peerage. What strides she had made toward her independence! After a couple of trips to the kitchen area, Sabrina sat opposite. “You probably would have preferred a hot meal.”
Riordan cut into the thick slice of ham. “Not at all. I ate a hearty brunch before departing. This is perfect. Especially served by you.”
“Do you mind if I ask a question?’
“Of course not.”
“Does your father own a factory? Did you attend university? I know next to nothing about you. I would like to learn more.”
Damn. He laid his utensils across his plate. Thus far, he’d managed to deflect her queries with vague truths. How to answer?
“He doesn’t own it, but has an important position. And yes, I did attend university, thanks to the generosity of a peer.” Not a lie; his grandfather had paid for his education at Cambridge. “Frankly, I don’t see why you wish to know more when we will be parting in about two months. I’m not one for talking about myself.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Well, I only wished to start a conversation. If you would rather not talk about it, then we will not.”
“Not tonight, at any rate.”
Mittens began meowing loudly at their feet. Riordan was grateful for the distraction.
“I should feed her. What does one give a growing kitten?” Sabrina asked.
“Cats need meat, even more than dogs. We must inform Mrs. Ingersoll to add Mittens to the daily meal plans. We used to feed our indoor cats twice a day, meat mashed up with potato and water or milk. Or fish. There are cat meat sellers in the larger cities. They sell horse meat and other scraps especially for cats.”
“Horse meat?” Sabrina cried, clearly horrified.
“Well, yes. Horses that die of injury or old age are often sent to the abattoir, their meat put to good use for other animals.”
Sabrina gave Mittens a strange look.
“She’s a carnivore. If she was an outdoor cat, she would be hunting for her supper. Still want to keep the little beast?” He gave Sabrina a teasing wink.
Her look softened. “Yes. I want to keep her. She’s darling. As are you, for gifting her to me.”
Damn. His heart melted. If he were able, he’d cut open his chest and hand it over to her. For she owned it. Completely. He was in love. Absolutely smitten. It tore him in two that he was keeping secrets, but he was doing it to protect her. Because he loved her. He would not see her hurt for the world. How to convince her that she deserved to be loved more than anyone he’d ever known?
Chapter 19
Sabrina’s soul was decidedly lighter when she awoke the next morning. Though she didn’t wake of her own accord; Mittens’s meowing did the trick, but Sabrina was not the least bit annoyed. Somehow, the last pieces of the protective wall she’d built around her heart were crumbling away.
Though vulnerable, it was also exhilarating. Her emotions, often confused of late, demonstrated clarity of p
urpose. Her self-confidence, battered most of her life, had been repairing itself the past few years, and since meeting Riordan repairs had accelerated and now she was fully healed. All was right with the world.
Mary was certainly shocked to find a kitten making itself at home, curled up on the small scatter rug before the fireplace in the parlor. “Mr. Black bought her for you? Oh, my,” Mary murmured. Oh, my indeed. She gathered the kitten into her arms and nuzzled its silky fur. Already she loved this sweet-tempered feline.
The marriage to Pepperdon had done its damage, but she refused to allow it to ruin what remained of her life. Nor would she cling to the belief that her heart was so battered she would never feel again. She had believed she was unworthy of love, considering no one had showed her any different. But that was a self-pitying path she no longer wished to travel—Riordan had showed her another way to journey. As did Mary.
Embracing life and what lay ahead would be her new focus. Damn Pepperdon, and her father. Damn every horrid memory those terrible men perpetrated.
“My lady?”
Mary’s voice brought her to the present. “Sorry, I was woolgathering.”
“Would you like another piece of raisin pie?”
Sabrina placed her teacup on the table. “No, thank you, but cut a slice and wrap it in brown paper. I’ll take it to Riordan. He still has thirty minutes of his luncheon break remaining. I will walk with you as far as the school.” She glanced at the sleeping Mittens. “Will she be all right alone for awhile?”
“I believe so, my lady. The kitten has settled in fine. Though my duties at the inn do not include the kitchen, I’ll see if I can collect a few scraps of meat and fish and bring them with me tonight.”
“Wonderful.”
Mary halted in clearing the table and gazed at Sabrina intently. “You seem different this morning, my lady.”
“Do I? In a good way, I hope.” Mary nodded and smiled. “I’ve had enough of allowing miserable excuses for men to rule my life.”
“Good for you, my lady. And Mr. Black?”
“Gaining my independence means I will make my own decisions. I trust Riordan. He has not lied to me, not once. I care for him; I will not deny it any longer.” Sabrina stood and gathered up the remaining luncheon dishes. “Will you show me how to make an apple pie tomorrow?”
“If you wish, my lady.”
“I do. And Mary, please call me Sabrina. I’m not married to an earl any longer, and I’m blessedly thankful for it. I want to dismiss Lady Pepperdon forever.”
Mary’s brows furrowed. “But as a widow you’re permitted to continue to use the title, even if you remarry, which you did, however temporarily.”
“I’m entitled, but I’ve decided to put the past behind me, and I will put the title there as well. Besides, we are friends, Mary. Well past time we acknowledged it.” She laid her hand on her maid’s shoulder. “Let us toss away the lady and servant roles we wear. If you wish, tell anyone who asks that you are my companion and friend, which is the complete truth.”
Mary remained silent, her face showing myriad emotions. “I would like us to think of each other as friends…Sabrina.”
Sabrina smiled. “Excellent. We move forward together, come what may. Now, we had better depart.”
Mary took the dishes from Sabrina’s hand. “I’ll wrap the pie and gather my cloak.”
“And I will fetch my own cloak. See? Independence,” Sabrina said. Mary laughed and hurried toward the kitchen.
Moments later, they headed toward the school. Mary waved goodbye as she continued toward town. Entering the school, Sabrina passed through the alcove into the main room. There sat Riordan at his desk, a pile of papers and slates before him. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, his thick, black-as-midnight hair falling across his forehead as he bent over his work. “Good afternoon, Riordan.”
He glanced up, and a broad, warm smile curved about his sensual lips. And they were sensual—the bottom lip a little plumper than the top. Ideal for kissing. “To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?” he asked.
She held up the wrapped bundle. “Pie. And I longed to see you.”
A look of genuine surprise flashed across his attractive features. He tossed aside his pen and stood. Sabrina was drawn closer to him, as if an invisible thread held them together. He took the pie and set it on his desk, then, without any warning, cupped her face and kissed her. Deeply. She opened and let him in and their tongues clashed. Sabrina grasped the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer.
For once, she held nothing back, kissing him in return with great relish. When a husky moan left the corner of his mouth, the glorious sound caused her to moan in return. This ignited the simmering passion between them. Riordan moved his hands down to her waist, cupped her buttocks, and brought her in against his erection.
She gasped in surprise, pausing to savor the feel of his hard body. Desire flared within as she continued with her thorough and complete exploration of every part of his hot mouth. He rotated his slim hips, and she could feel his hard shaft through the layers of clothes. Following his lead, she rubbed against him, causing another moan to slip from his throat. Her insides were on fire, her breasts heavy, and a distinct yearning throbbed in her feminine core.
Riordan broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing was as ragged and uneven as hers. “I am tempted to push everything off the desk, lay you upon it, and kiss and caress every part of your body.” He exhaled. “Forgive me.”
“No.”
He pulled away and caught her gaze. Arching an eyebrow, he said, “No?”
“I mean no, do not apologize. I want this. I want more. Tonight, we should talk. Can we?”
“Yes.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“I should go; your students will be returning shortly.”
Riordan chuckled. “Quite the condition you are leaving me in.”
Sabrina buttoned his frock coat. “There. No one will guess. If you come home for lunch tomorrow, perhaps you can steal another kiss.”
“With Mary there?” he laughed.
“I believe she will leave us alone. Riordan, this is all new to me. Can you bear with me?” She glanced up into those beautiful blue eyes—they glistened with deep emotion.
He stroked her cheek. “For you, I can wait an eternity.”
“Good answer, Mr. Black.” With a sigh of contentment, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him. She nibbled on his delicious full bottom lip before stepping away. “I’ll see you tonight. I hear roast chicken is on the menu for supper. Enjoy your pie.”
Sabrina turned, hurried out of the schoolroom, and, lifting her skirt, ran to the side of the building where she’d first discovered the passionate schoolmaster. She waited patiently. The window was open far enough to hear the happy voices of children as they filed into the room after their luncheon.
Riordan’s deep, melodious voice filled her hearing, causing shivers of awareness to cascade along her spine. “Children, let us pick up where we left off before the break: English folk music. Now, much of it originated during the medieval period. Anyone remember when it was? Yes, Becky?”
“Between the fifth and fifteenth centuries?”
“Yes, well done. We refer to it as The Middle Ages, as it is the middle period of three divisional eras of Western history. One popular melody that has stood the test of time is “Greensleeves.” Does anyone know of it?”
There were mixed answers, most saying no. A young lad called out, “Sing it for us, sir!”
Other voices joined in encouraging Riordan. “Very well,” he said. “I’m not sure I will do it justice.” He cleared his throat, then sang: “Alas my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously. And I have loved you oh so long, delighting in your company….”
Riordan’s voice was clear, pristine, and harmonious. His deep tone gave
the tune vibrancy and, to her, a decided sensual cadence. Tears formed in her eyes. He could sing. In her mind, he was close to perfection. However, no one was perfect. If he harbored any dark secrets or serious flaws, she’d yet to discover them. There must be one, for that nagging sensation he was keeping secrets had never left her.
But any man who could stand before a room full of children and encourage them to learn and envision the world around them and inspire and shape their minds…she could not imagine a nobler calling, nor a more honorable man. How she admired and respected Riordan. And here, outside his classroom window, listening to his voice as it rose in song, she fell irrevocably in love with him.
* * * *
It was not ideal to teach a class of students when aroused. Thankfully, Riordan had managed to dismiss his desire before his students returned. The teasing minx, showing up in his schoolroom with pie and devastating kisses. What had come over her? Whatever it was, he liked it. And when he sang “Greensleeves,” the lyrics held a deeper meaning to him personally.
Riordan did not waste any time packing up his papers and hurrying home after ringing the dismissal bell. No lingering about the schoolroom to correct tests tonight—he wanted to know what Sabrina wished to talk about. Once he entered the cottage and ensured Mrs. Ingersoll was not lurking about the kitchen, he pulled Sabrina into his arms and kissed her fiercely, not only because he yearned for it, but to see if she would kiss him in return as passionately as she had earlier.
Riordan was not disappointed. They broke apart after several searing moments. “We should eat,” Sabrina said breathlessly.
Food? Who could think of food? “Yes. Roast chicken, you said?”
“Mrs. Ingersoll departed not ten minutes before you arrived. Allow me to serve you before the food cools off any further.” Sabrina scurried to the kitchen area.
Hell. He was hard again. Taking his seat, he winced and adjusted himself. Being in a perpetual state of arousal was damned uncomfortable, and embarrassing. So much for his self-control in most situations. It had certainly abandoned him here.
Marriage with a Proper Stranger Page 18
