She looked past him and her eyes widened. “Good God, it’s the medieval Highlander.”
Garrett stood beside Oliver. “The Highlander is my son, Garrett, and Riordan’s uncle. His mother was Scottish. May we come in?” Already he liked this woman.
She shook her head. “Of course. Forgive me.” Miss Tuttle stepped aside and let them pass, closing the door behind them. “Can I offer you tea or a bite to eat? There is stew I can heat.”
“Perhaps after we talk. Since you did not ask about Lady Pepperdon, I assume you received our message?” Oliver asked.
“I did. I’m relieved she’s been recovered. The baron is a despicable man and deserves all he gets.”
“And he will. Debtor’s prison is in his future, make no mistake,” Oliver replied. “We will see to it.” They all took seats in the tiny parlor, with Garrett’s large frame precariously perched on a wooden chair. “My name is Oliver Wollstonecraft, Earl of Carnstone. You see, my grandson’s full name is Riordan Black Wollstonecraft.”
Miss Tuttle covered her mouth in shock. “But why…”
“Why did he conceal his true identity? He wished to take his teaching position without the family name and history becoming a distraction.”
She shook her head. “Sabrina had no idea. Oh, dear. When she finds out… She cannot abide deception.”
Oliver crossed his legs. “So I gathered. Hopefully, they will work it out. Then perhaps Riordan will return to his position here with his wife.”
Miss Tuttle clasped her hands in her lap, a sad expression on her face. “I fear your grandson does not have a position to return to. A member of the education board appeared here early this morning, claiming I’m to vacate the premises by tonight. Mr. Black—I mean, Mr. Wollstonecraft—has been dismissed. ‘For abandoning his post and responsibilities.’ As if your grandson was in the army. Wretched man. He wouldn’t listen to my explanation.”
Garrett vaulted out of his chair, his fists clenched. “Allow me to find the man and straighten him out,” he barked.
Oliver clutched his arm. “Easy. Diplomacy may be better than fisticuffs. At least initially. Who is this board member and where can we find him?”
“He is Mr. Umlah, the blacksmith.” Miss Tuttle slid her gaze to Garrett. “Although he is not as large or imposing as your Highlander son.”
Oliver laughed; he couldn’t help it. How refreshing to find a woman near his own age sparking his interest. His previous affair of three years past with a young, spoiled, pampered widow of a baronet had left him empty. In the twilight of his life, he wanted to find a woman whose company he would enjoy. One he could talk to, laugh with, and, yes, have frequent sex with. He may be in his sixties, but he still experienced desire.
“Garrett, regardless of how the conversation goes with the smithy, we should gather all Riordan and Lady Pepperdon’s possessions and take them with us to the hall.”
“Good thing we brought the wagon,” Garrett replied as he sat.
“Miss Tuttle, Lady Sabrina mentioned a kitten?”
“Yes. Your grandson gifted her to Sabrina. I’ll pack while you and your son seek out Mr. Umlah, my lord.”
“I believe you should accompany me and direct me to the place. Besides, the man owes you an apology; I intend to see he gives it. Garrett will start loading the wagon.” They all stood.
“Let me fetch my shawl. Oh, the kitten is asleep in the bedroom. Make sure she doesn’t get outside, will you, Mr. Wollstonecraft?”
“Of course,” Garrett replied.
Once Miss Tuttle placed her shawl about her shoulders, Oliver gently clasped her arm. Sizzling heat moved through him, settling deep within; what he was about to propose would only stoke the flames. “I’ll unhitch one of the horses and we will ride into town together. Are you fine with the plan, Miss Tuttle?”
She met his gaze, and he did not mistake the interest sparking in her light brown eyes. “Completely fine, my lord.”
Yes, standing here next to the fetching Miss Mary Tuttle, everything was completely fine.
Chapter 26
Forget about sleep; Riordan had none at all. He’d respected Sabrina’s wishes and stayed away from her, though he had stopped and listened outside her door shortly before eleven. Water splashed—she was in the bath. The thought of her naked caused him to harden, and he returned to his room and took care of the condition. But the release left him unfulfilled and staring at the ceiling until the sun peeked over the horizon.
He still had no idea how to explain, but he would face her and tell her whatever she wished to know. He knocked on the bedroom door, and she bade him enter. Sabrina stood by the window, engulfed in warm autumn sunshine, which gave her skin a golden glow. She looked as if she belonged here at Wollstonecraft Hall. The lady of the manor.
“Sabrina.”
She turned to face him, her expression as impassive and devoid of emotion as the day they first met. With a sweep of her arm, she motioned to the two chairs set up in front of the fire. She wore the same clothes as yesterday, but they looked to have been pressed.
He sat, as did she. “Allow me to begin with an apology. I am truly sorry I did not tell you of my name, especially after we grew more intimate. I was going to…” He stopped. Saying he was going to tell her last night would be a lame excuse. He changed direction. “The main reason I did not tell you was that the false name was the grounds for the annulment. You recall I did tell you it was better if I kept the motivation secret until we appeared before the court. Also, I hid it from the school board, save for one member, as I wished to take the position of schoolmaster on equal footing with the residents of Carrbury. I did not want my family’s standing and reputation to interfere with my plan.”
She frowned. “You sat there at the inn, the night before our wedding, choking when I mentioned the name Wollstonecraft. You could have told me during that conversation. Or when I lay in your arms after making love. Or when you told me you loved me. Why did you not tell me then? Or, better yet, before we became intimate? I feel betrayed. Used. By yet another man for his own selfish reasons.”
He was about to reply, but Sabrina continued, “And what of the settlement? Imagine my horror at finding out there never was one. You created an elaborate ruse with your solicitor friend to…to…I’m not sure why. To lure me into marriage for your own base needs? Is the marriage even legitimate?” Her voice rose with each sentence. The hurt in it cut him to the quick.
“The papers we signed are legal, as is the marriage. I was going to say no to your proposal, but your story moved me. It spoke to my progressive soul, as it were. And I realize now that I was already beginning to care for you. I wanted to protect you from hurt.” He paused, staring into the fire before meeting her gaze. “There is money, Sabrina. I alone put up the ten thousand pounds. It sits in an account at the law office, awaiting you.”
Her eyes widened. “Why would you give such a sum to a complete stranger?”
“I am a Wollstonecraft, raised with liberal beliefs. I spoke the truth when I said women are treated no better than property, with no rights at all. I wanted to give you a fresh start. I did not intend to fall in love with you. But I did.”
She looked away, staring out the window once again, as if contemplating what he was saying. “What do you mean by plan? Regarding your position?”
“I originally accepted the teaching position in order to try out my ideas on education reform. Each of us in the family have our own pet causes; education was mine. I did not expect to enjoy teaching as much as I do. God, I don’t know how to describe it. Never have I felt as alive as when I am standing before a group of children eager to learn.” He paused. “Except when I’m in your arms. Except when I’m deep inside you and you raise your hips to meet my thrusts, taking me deeper. Taking me…to paradise.”
She flushed, then stood and began to pace, wringing her hands. “I must spe
ak to your father. Please bring him here at once.”
What in the hell? He’d gone too far, bringing up the intimacy they’d shared. “Sabrina…”
“Please!” she cried, clearly distressed.
Riordan stood and inched toward the door. “As you wish.”
He located his father in the library, reading assorted papers. “Sabrina asked me to fetch you. I don’t know why.”
His father followed him upstairs to the guest room. “What is it, Lady Pepperdon?”
She turned to face his father, still wringing her hands. “I cannot stay under this roof any longer.” Riordan’s heart sank. “At least, not until I think this over. I appreciate your family’s hospitality and all you’ve done for me. But I need a place of quiet, with no…distractions.”
Wonderful. Now I’m a distraction. Damn it.
His father took Sabrina’s hand. “I understand.” Well, Riordan didn’t. “You have a lot to process. I believe our neighbor, Mrs. Alberta Eaton, would gladly offer rooms for you and your companion until you are ready to make a decision. Allow me to make the arrangements.” He turned and said to Riordan in a low voice, “I believe you should leave.”
He was not a petulant child; he would not rant. He was raised as a gentleman. Sabrina was distraught, and that concerned him, but after what she’d endured yesterday, on top of his revelations, he could not blame her at all.
“Of course.” He withdrew. Should he take comfort in the fact that she hadn’t dismissed him outright? All he knew was he loved her more than his life, but he would give her the time and space she asked for.
* * * *
Julian strode toward the Eaton residence. He had not returned since the hedgehog incident. He’d considered Alberta’s place instead of taking Lady Pepperdon further afield, like the inn at Sevenoaks, because it was close enough to Wollstonecraft Hall and private enough for quiet contemplation.
He knocked on the door. As it swung open, the breath caught in his throat. Alberta Eaton wore a dark green day dress, hugging curves he’d no idea she possessed. Hell, she must have bound her bosom when working in the garden, because he’d seen no evidence of such lushness. Her hair was the color of a field of wheat and styled fashionably. Since it had been hidden under her large hat, he’d no idea of the shade.
The smile she gave him made him weak in the knees. “How wonderful to see you, Tensbridge. We’re about to have tea. Do come in. Jonas will be thrilled.”
He stepped across the threshold and followed her into the parlor.
Jonas stood. The young man wore a brown suit, and was certainly in a neater condition than when they’d last met. He smiled, and the lad’s perfect features stunned him afresh.
“Jonas, my dear. Remember what you do when a guest arrives?” Alberta gently urged.
“Right.” Jonas stepped forward and held out his hand. “A pleasure to receive you, my lord.” Julian took his hand. A firm shake. Blasted pity the lad was mentally deficient; with his looks, he could have made a fine alliance with a young lady of property and prestige.
After she took his greatcoat, they took their seats, and Alberta poured and passed him a cup of tea. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
Gathering his thoughts, he told a condensed version of the events of the past thirty-six hours.
“Oh, my. Of course Lady Pepperdon and Miss Tuttle may stay here. And her kitten. What is another animal about the place, right, Jonas?”
“I like kittens,” he replied as he slurped his tea.
“Thank you,” Julian said. “I do not expect it to be more than a couple of days. I believe my son and Lady Pepperdon will come through this.”
“I cannot imagine a father selling his daughter. Isn’t it against the law? The man is a monster. He deserves debtor’s prison, or worse,” Alberta remarked.
“Is it where men go when they can’t pay their butcher’s bill?” Jonas asked.
It occurred to Julian that Jonas was not as simpleminded as he’d first surmised. It was as if he stood between childhood and manhood, a foot planted firmly in each aspect, stuck there for the rest of his days. It was clear the young man followed their conversation and was able to understand it.
“You’re correct, Jonas. But he would have to owe many people, with no way of paying them all. The court will make a ruling, and the baron will be sent there to either work off his debt or stay until he is able to pay it.”
“The baron should go to a prison. He’s a bad man,” Jonas stated.
“Just so. I completely agree,” Julian replied.
“My dear,” Alberta said to Jonas, “why not take some fruit out to your hedgehogs?”
“Wearing my suit?”
“Yes. Be careful not to get it dirty.”
Jonas smiled, grabbed a napkin, and placed pieces of apple in it. He scurried from the room.
“I admit, in our first encounter, I believed Jonas more…psychologically impaired, intellectually speaking,” Julian said.
Alberta laughed. It was as husky and sensual as her voice, and it caused a blast of heat to tear through him. “How diplomatically put.” She sobered. “My husband said Jonas was slow developing, didn’t speak his first word until nearly four years of age. When Reese passed, Jonas was nineteen, and is as you see him now.”
“A man-child?” Julian asked gently.
“Yes, I suppose he is. I fear he will never marry, which is a tragedy, as Jonas has a great capacity to love. It would take a woman of immense compassion and understanding to take him on.”
Julian took her hand. “Not many widows would take their late husband’s brother under their wing, especially one with the challenges Jonas faces. Many would have shipped him off to an institution, one of those wretched asylums. But not you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Tensbridge…”
Jonas burst into the room. “Tens! Come see the hedgehogs, and bring more apple.”
Julian welcomed the interruption. The room had become hot, the air close, the emotions powerful. He was not looking for this, or anything remotely close to it. He stood and gathered his greatcoat from the nearby chair. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Eaton.”
“Good afternoon, my lord.”
He grabbed a handful of sliced apple and left the room. Damn it all. Never should have come here. Should have sent a damned footman instead. His safe, staid world has been thrown off its axis, and it annoyed him to no end. But a part of him was intrigued.
Chapter 27
“Thank you, Mrs. Eaton, for taking us in for a couple days.” Sabrina, Mary, and Alberta sat in the front parlor, drinking fresh lemonade in the early evening.
“Please, do call me Alberta, Lady Pepperdon.”
“Only if you call me Sabrina. I no longer use the courtesy title.”
Alberta passed a plate of ginger biscuits to Mary. “And may I call you Mary?”
“I insist on it,” she replied as she took a couple of biscuits and laid them on her napkin.
“I do apologize for the state of this small manor house. My late uncle was a hermit and an eccentric, and in his final years allowed the place to go to ruin. We are slowly putting the place to rights. Our generous neighbors, the Wollstonecrafts, have been a great assistance, especially Garrett.” She smiled. “They are generous to a fault. I’ve never met such indomitable men.” Alberta stood. “I will leave you two to catch up while I check on Jonas and Mittens. He adores animals.” Alberta smiled and exited the room.
Mary blew out a cleansing breath. “Good Lord, what drama we find ourselves in.”
“I’m relieved you are here; I’ve been feeling rather adrift.” Sabrina placed her empty glass on the tray. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“My dear, you have a decision to make. It is not for me to make it for you,” Mary said, her voice kind. “Do you still love him?”
Mary nodded. “The earl filled me in. I understand why Riordan used the name Black; it is his middle name, his mother’s maiden name, and he wanted no distractions, to be treated as an equal, not a man from the peerage.”
“Yes, I understand it as well, but why did he not tell me as we grew closer? The other night we…well, he told me he loved me, and he showed me how much. Apparently he could not trust me with the information.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “That is the explanation he gave you?”
“No. He claims he wished to use the false name as grounds to obtain the annulment.” Sabrina paused and bit on her lower lip. “It makes sense. He did tell me he was keeping it hush-hush so I would act appropriately surprised before the court and would not be lying when the truth was revealed.”
“Again, sounds reasonable. And the settlement?”
“Riordan put up the money. Can you imagine? He knew about my father selling me and said nothing.” Sabrina thought to when they were leaving Durning House. She’d asked him if he had the settlement and he’d patted his pocket, claiming he had it well in hand. He hadn’t actually lied, but he wasn’t truthful either.
She waved her arm as Mary was about to speak. “I know. Generous to a fault. He kept the revelation to himself to protect me. But it is as if he were controlling my life, as Pepperdon and my father were.” Sabrina sighed. “I sound irrational to my own ears. I’m still coming to terms over the vile acts my father and the marquess perpetrated. I’m finding it difficult to sort through my feelings.”
Mary patted her hand. “Take as much time as you need. No one is pressing you for a decision. You have a choice, which is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it, my dear? To be able to steer your own destiny? Here is the opportunity to do it.”
“If I decide to leave, what will we do for money?”
“As I told you, I have a nice sum. There are your jewels…we will manage. Do not let money influence your decision. I should tell you that Riordan has been dismissed from his position.”
Marriage with a Proper Stranger Page 25
