The first two encounters each told her that Duncan had gone off to London, most likely to buy his bride a special wedding gift. The third encounter, with old Spode, was only slightly different.
Spode was a cantankerous old lady, one of Sabrina’s aunts’ more amusing friends, and she scoffed at the “wedding gift” assumption, whispering to Sabrina that the young lord was more likely off on a last bit of oat sowing in London before the nuptials, especially since Lord Locke, a known rake, had gone with him.
“Now I ask you, would Lord Locke know where to find wedding gifts, or would he know where to find ladies of ill repute? The latter, of course. If the young lord comes back with a gift, it will be one of those unmentionable diseases.” And the old girl had cackled at her own wit.
Sabrina did not encourage that conversation, in fact, left Spode in what might be considered very rude haste. But before she could get out of town completely, she had her fourth encounter.
This one was the worst, with Duncan’s grandfather. Not Neville. Him, she probably could have managed quite nicely—if she could have gotten past the shock of finding him in Oxbow. But it was the Scots grandfather who hailed her as he came out of Oxbow’s combination inn and tavern, the grandfather she hadn’t actually met yet, though he seemed to know her well enough to call her by name.
“Yer Duncan’s friend Sabrina, aye?” At her nod, he continued, “I had been meaning tae meet ye at Summers Glade, but ye stopped visiting. I’d wondered at that. Most o‘ the other lassies hied it back tae London when they didna win the lad, which was understandable. But ye now—I didna think ye were there for that.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then why did ye stop coming?”
The direct question, and in such an accusing tone, caused a blush. Unfortunately, Archibald noticed it and interpreted it correctly.
“Sae, ‘tis like that, is it? Ye’ve let yerself feel more for the lad than friendship?”
To admit that, to him in particular, was almost a guarantee that it would get back to Duncan, which, under the circumstances, was the very last thing she wanted. Lying, though, which she abhorred doing but had no choice but to do in this case, caused an even worse blush.
“That isn’t the case a’tall. Duncan is charming, I like him a lot, but really, just as a friend.”
His expression was skeptical, even though he went along with her assertion by saying, “Och, I’m glad tae be hearing that. No‘ that ye arena a sweet lass, I’m sure, but ye ken auld Neville was worried aboot the amount o’ time the lad was giving tae ye, and Duncan did assure us o‘ that same thing, that ye are merely a friend, albeit a verra good friend. I’d hazard e’en tae say yer his best friend just now, which is why I found it strange that ye’d desert him in his—”
“Excuse me?” she cut in, her voice quite stiff now, but because of that “worried about the amount of time” remark, which, of course had to do with her scandal, rather than his last accusation. “How have I deserted him? Just because I was feeling a bit under the weather and kept to my bed for a few days doesn’t mean I have deserted him. And I have spoken to him since the engagement.”
“Ah, well, I didna know that,” he replied, and then uncomfortably, “Did he, ah, mention tae ye aboot the, er ... silliness that led tae his—”
He coughed, giving up trying to ask her what had been confided to her, without actually mentioning what might have been confided. She almost laughed over his difficulty, though it wouldn’t have been with much humor, when the subject was still so painful.
But she did take pity on him and admitted, “If you mean did Duncan tell me that he didn’t actually ask Ophelia to marry him, and mentioned to me what led to their renewed engagement, yes, he did.”
Archibald sighed in relief. “Then I can speak freely. Good, I dinna like pussyfooting around a subject. This is why I was concerned wi‘ yer absence, lass, ye ken? He’s in need o’ friends just now. I hope ye were able tae cheer him a wee bit when ye spoke tae him?”
Cheer him? That had been a very painful encounter with Duncan that day on the road. Hearing that he was forced to marry Ophelia was almost as bad as thinking he wanted to. But then she had two very different accounts on their relationship from the both of them. Ophelia was known to lie, so her assertion that Duncan was still passionate for her might have been fabrication, and yet, what if Duncan’s assertion that he didn’t want Ophelia was the lie instead?
He had reminded her that the only real compromising had been done to her. Had that been his intent all along? Had he asked Ophelia to marry him in a moment of passion and quickly regretted it as soon as he left her? Then used Sabrina to give him a way to get out of it?
She didn’t want to believe that of him, yet it could have happened exactly that way. Why would Ophelia lie about the time that he’d asked her to marry him, after all? Just because Sabrina had been unable to hide that the answer was extremely important to her?
She was deluding herself, though, trying to see him in a bad light in hope that it would kill her love for him. It just didn’t work. She didn’t really think he had lied to her. But even if he had, there’d been no doubting that he was now miserable over whatever he’d done.
She had wanted to cheer him up that day. The urge had been strong. But how could she cheer up anyone when she was so miserable herself?
Archibald’s question, though, she decided to simply avoid altogether, and did so by mentioning, “I heard just today that Duncan has gone to London. Perhaps the trip will take his mind off of—”
“Nae, he’s gone searching for the Newbolt lass, sae his mind will be on nothing else.”
She was surprised and hopeful, hearing that. “He knows where to look then?”
“No‘ really,” he said, disappointing her. “He didna like sitting aboot doing nothing while Neville’s people searched, sae he’s gone hisself. No’ that he’s likely tae find her, and he knows it. There’s just no‘ enough time afore the wedding.”
“I suppose not.” She managed to keep from sighing.
“I wanted tae simply postpone it m’self, but Neville seems tae think that any prevaricating on our part will start the scandal brewing.”
“Then you must hope he gets lucky.”
“A slim hope. But if he does manage tae get oout o‘ this predicament and is back tae looking for a bride, I’ve a feeling he will be asking ye tae wed.”
Sabrina blinked. “Me?”
“Aye, but it would be for the wrong reasons, ye ken? He wants ye near tae hand is all. He showed how far he’s willing tae go tae hae ye near, by bringing ye tae the gathering, e’en though it brought Ophelia as well. He’d move ye intae Summers Glade if it werena inappropriate. I’m thinking he’d marry ye just tae get ye there permanently. He values yer friendship that much. But it is only that. Dinna let him fool ye intae thinking there’s more tae his feelings. Ye’d both sorely regret it if ye do.”
Sabrina prayed she could hold back her emotions for just another few moments, until she could escape from this unwanted conversation. She’d heard the first time what Archibald had said, that Duncan had assured him that she was just a friend. She had put it from her mind when he said it, because to think about it was to rip her heart apart yet again. Yet he’d just thrust it into the open once more, where she couldn’t possibly ignore it now. A friend. She was only a friend. She’d never be more than a friend.
“You are creating worries over something that has little chance of ever occurring, when the wedding is only two days away.”
“True.” He sighed. “And m’apologies, lass, for feeling a need tae warn ye—just in case. Ye will come tae the wedding, aye?”
Sit there and watch Duncan and Ophelia be joined forever more? No way in hell, which had her lying yet again, though evasively this time.
“I’m sure everyone who receives an invitation will be in attendance. Now I really must get home. My aunts didn’t expect me to be gone this long and will begin to worry ...”
She d
idn’t hear his second sigh as she hurried off. Archibald was already regretting what he’d said to her. He didn’t doubt any of it, he just realized, belatedly, that he had put the cart before the horse. There’d been no reason to warn her of anything, when Duncan was likely to marry the other girl. If he was saved from that, then that would have been the time to do any warning, not beforehand.
Chapter Forty-two
The letter arrived the next afternoon. It completely confounded Sabrina. She really did think it was a joke. It was just too farcical. If someone of consequence was going to be ransomed, why for only forty pounds? Forty thousand pounds, she might have taken seriously, even just several thousand, but a mere forty pounds, and such an odd number at that? It had to be a joke.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t just ignore it. She wasn’t even sure that the person who signed the letter was actually that person. If it was a joke, then it wouldn’t be the real person who’d sent it. But she had no other correspondence from that individual to compare it with. So on the farfetched chance that the letter was legitimate, she had to act on it.
She showed the letter to her aunts, of course.
The sender might have requested that she tell no one, but she couldn’t just leave home without letting them know why.
They both agreed it had to be a joke, and one in very poor taste. But they were certainly eager for a little adventure, even if it was only a waste of time, and thus their coachman was summoned from Oxbow where he lived and the three of them set off late that afternoon.
They knew they couldn’t actually go all the way with her, because of the instructions that only Sabrina was to show up with the money. But they pointed out that she couldn’t travel alone, and they did want to be nearby to find out soonest who had perpetuated the joke.
Sabrina didn’t see it as an adventure, but she did see it as a good excuse for why she wouldn’t be at the wedding tomorrow morning, since it was highly doubtful that they would return in time for it. Even if they turned right about after confirming that the letter was just a farce, they wouldn’t get back home until very late at night, or rather the wee hours of the morning, thus she’d be sleeping through the latter hours—and right through the wedding.
They arrived after dark, which was why they had trouble finding the address given in the letter. There weren’t many people out and about at that time of the evening whom they could ask, and they were twice given wrong directions from the few who were. It was near midnight when they did finally locate the residence.
Alice and Hilary were going to wait in the coach, close to hand. The letter stressed that Sabrina must come alone so no one would get hurt, but they absolutely refused to just leave her there. And she was to scream very loudly if she needed help. Mickie, their coachman, had been apprised of their task and had brought along a pistol as well as a very nasty-looking club. For that matter, Sabrina’s aunts each had a weapon as well. She had managed to keep from laughing when she’d seen them tuck the very small pair of matching pistols, one each, into their reticules before they left home.
All the precautions were silly in her opinion, though. She fully expected to find the house vacant, or another letter waiting for her on the porch laughing at her foolishness in coming there. The utter darkness inside the dwelling supported that contention. Not a single light, not even a dull one, showed at any of the windows. And it was a nice looking house, two stories in height, not overly large, but no small cottage either. Hardly the setting one would imagine for nefarious deeds like holding people captive for ransom.
There was no letter on the porch. She tried the front door, but it was locked. As it should be for an empty house, she told herself. She thought about going around to the back to see if there was another door that might be open, but figured she’d probably trip on something in the dark, and besides, she wasn’t exactly trying to keep the fact that she was there a secret. So she knocked on the door, quite briskly. The sooner it was confirmed that no one was in the house, the sooner she and her aunts could return home.
The door opened. That was Sabrina’s first surprise. The second was being yanked inside and hearing the door close behind her. It was still utterly dark, but she could hear a lot of breathing and feet shuffling. And then there was light when a cover was removed from a lantern. The lantern had yet another cover on it, thinner, though, so it wasn’t very bright, just bright enough to see by.
She was surrounded, literally, by four men. She had to turn about to have a look at them all. She wasn’t impressed, though she had to admit that the letter she had received might not be a joke after all.
They were a ragtag bunch, clothes in ill repair, three of them so skinny she had to wonder if they might not be used to eating on a regular basis. They were unkempt, dirty even, which suggested baths might be as irregular as meals. Their ages could have ranged anywhere from younger than her to her aunts’ age—it was hard to tell under all the filth.
The fourth man was a bit different, at least he had made an effort to look presentable. He was clean, in his mid-twenties, his hair slicked back and long enough to be clubbed at the neck. His clothes were in better repair, too, though they weren’t good quality to begin with. And he didn’t look like he was starving, cut a fine figure, actually. He was also the only one out of the four who wasn’t pointing a pistol at her. Those other three weapons, quickly noted, was why she remained silent for the moment.
She supposed they could be criminals, though if they were, they obviously weren’t very successful at it. Actually, the guns alone suggested they were up to no good. None of them looked like they had worked in a while. All of them looked out of place in such a nice house.
Her surprise was wearing off, in time to note that a couple of the men had shown surprise, too, at her own appearance. It didn’t take long to realize why, though, when they started talking around her, all at once, so it was a bit hard to keep up.
“It be another lady.”
“Is, ain’t it? You thinkin‘ wot I’m thinkin’?”
“We can send the other one to collect a ransom for this’n, I’m thinkin‘.”
“Was thinking the same thing.”
“Glad we think alike.” This was said with a chuckle. “This could turn into a mighty fine line o‘ work, it could.”
“Not to mention, I’m in no hurry to give up that soft bed upstairs.”
“You have the money, lady?”
It was the first remark directed at her. She was still grappling with the notion that they were thinking of keeping her there, if she had understood their meaning correctly. She hadn’t figured out a way to reasonably dissuade them of that notion yet, so a bit of stalling was in order.
“Well, now, I’m not so sure I know what you’re talking about,” she replied, then tried a bluff. “And just what are you doing in my house?”
“Your house? The gent said it were his house.”
“What gent?”
“The one we tossed in the cellar, which is where you’ll be heading if you ain’t got the money.”
“Well, when you put it that way, I’m sure I can come up with some money,” she told the last speaker. “How much did you require?”
“Is she fooling us? You didn’t get a letter that brought you here?”
“A letter? Why, yes, but, well, I broke my glasses this week, and so I wasn’t able to read it. Was it to let me know you apprehended someone breaking into my house? If so, you are to be commended, and indeed are in line for a reward. Is that the money you’re talking about?”
They stared at each other, baffled for a moment, until one of them said, “Lady, just answer yes or no. Do you have forty pounds on you?”
That odd number made a bit of sense now, forty to be divided four ways, yet still a laughable amount. “Why, yes, as a matter of—”
“A simple yes or no!”
“She said yes,” was pointed out.
A frustrated growl. “I heard her, but it weren’t going to be simple.”
“She’s batty,” was said behind her. “Don’t even try to understand her.”
“Just make sure she has the money.”
Her reticule was grabbed from her hand. She objected to that, most indignantly. “Now, see here—”
“It’s empty,” was the next complaint from the grabber. “Now, why would she carry an empty bag?”
“Tol‘ you not to try to understand nabobs. They’re all batty.”
Another frustrated growl from her left side. “Where’s the money, lady?”
“In my pocket, of course. Honestly, any simpleton would know not to carry money in her bag, when bags are a prime target of bag snatchers. You just snatched my bag, didn’t you? I rest my case.”
They again stared at each other, but in some serious annoyance this time. In fact, she wasn’t all that surprised when her arm was grabbed in the next moment and she was marched directly upstairs.
She supposed she shouldn’t have tried her silliness tactics on them. They weren’t the least bit appreciative of it. But after hearing that they were thinking of keeping her there, she really did need a bit more time to examine all the ramifications of that. That she did at least in part, and didn’t like her conclusions at all. So she now needed to figure out a way to not be kept.
That was paramount. After all, if she didn’t come out of the house soon, her aunts would no doubt be coming in, and then they’d be kept, too. And if they were all three kept, who would there be to fetch a ransom from? Certainly not their distant relative who had gotten her great-grandfather’s title and refused to even acknowledge them as relatives.
Being thrust into an upstairs bedroom and having the door slammed behind her gave her the bit of undistracted time to think that she needed, or it would have—if Mavis Newbolt weren’t also there.
Chapter Forty-three
The Heir Page 21
