"Oh, I'd forgotten." Sabrina rose from her perch on the couch, saying, "Let's walk downstairs."
Sabrina crossed the chamber, but before leaving, glanced over her shoulder and told the others, "I'll return shortly."
Sabrina and Edgar walked in silence down the corridor to the main staircase. Descending the stairs, Sabrina nearly burst out laughing when she spied Forbes reaching for the baron's cloak in preparation for his departure.
Poor Edgar, she thought. Apparently, no one at Abingdon Manor wanted him there.
When the majordomo handed him the cloak, Edgar looked pointedly at the man until he left the foyer. Then he turned to stare unhappily at her.
"I feel like an unwanted outsider," Edgar said.
"Forgive me," Sabrina apologized, reaching out to touch his arm. "I never intended to make you feel that way. My father's sudden death has sent my world spinning out of control, and I'm still trying to find my balance."
His expression softened. He reached into his pocket and produced a small box. "I have a gift for you."
"You shouldn't have bought me a present," Sabrina said, shaking her head. How could she accept a gift from a man when she was betrothed to another?
Edgar opened the box. Lying on a bed of black velvet was a diamond heart-shaped pendant attached to a gold chain. "This necklace belonged to my mother," he told her.
"I cannot accept such an expensive gift, especially one with sentimental value," Sabrina said.
"Please, Sabrina."
She shook her head. "That necklace is for your future wife, whoever that may be."
"I was hoping that would be you," Edgar said, his love for her apparent in his gaze. "Besides, the necklace is for whomever I wish to wear it." He placed the box in her hand, adding, "Keep it as a token of our long friendship."
Sabrina felt like the lowest creature on earth. "I'll keep it safe for your future betrothed," she agreed reluctantly. "Whenever you want it back, I will be happy to return it to you."
Edgar smiled. "Thank you."
"I have nothing for you," she said.
"I've always longed to kiss you," Edgar said, slowly inching his face toward hers.
Just as their lips would have met, Sabrina heard a low, menacing growl. She leaped back a pace and turned to see Adam and Winston standing at the base of the staircase. Anger swelled within her like a sudden gust of wind. How could he have intruded on such a private moment? Where did he get the gall?
"That dog is dangerous and should be destroyed," Edgar said in an annoyed tone of voice. "If I ever come across him alone, I'll do just that."
Sabrina didn't know whom she wished to throttle first. Adam should never have intruded on this moment, but Edgar shouldn't have threatened the life of her dog.
"If you do that, I'll never speak to you again," Sabrina returned his threat, rounding on him. "Get off my property." She showed him her back and took one step away.
"You were sweet and biddable until he arrived," Edgar said, his voice filled with bitterness.
"Sweet and biddable?" Sabrina echoed, turning around slowly. "Keep your damned necklace." At that, she tossed the box at him.
Briggs caught the box before it hit him. Giving her an angry look, he stalked out the door.
"You, my lord, are an aristocratic arse," Sabrina announced, rounding on Adam. "Stay out of my private affairs... . Come, Winston." With the dog in tow, she brushed past him and started up the stairs.
"I can't," Adam said in a quiet voice.
Sabrina stopped and turned around, asking, "What did you say?"
"As your betrothed, your private affairs are my business," Adam told her.
"My private affairs are my business," Sabrina insisted. "Your constant intrusion into my life is annoying me. I certainly will never marry a man who is so ... so ... intrusive."
Adam smiled unrepentently. "All men are instrusive when the matter at hand concerns their women."
"I am not your woman," she snapped.
"You will be if I choose to spread the word of our betrothal in London," he countered.
"Keep out of my way," Sabrina threatened, "or you'll be sorry."
"What will you do?" Adam asked, wearing an infuriating smile. "Challenge me to a duel?"
"Nothing so obvious as that," Sabrina replied, gazing down at him like a haughty young queen. "I'll spike your clotted cream."
His smile grew into a grin. "With hemlock or henbane?"
She cocked a brow at him. "That death would be much too quick. Not enough suffering, you know. A purgative, perhaps."
Sabrina started up the stairs again. She refused to spare him a glance when she heard his shout of laughter.
Gaining her chamber, Sabrina sat in the chair in front of the hearth to pat the dog and fume. Why couldn't Edgar accept the fact that they would never marry? Her father had refused his offer of marriage. Why would he believe she'd accept him now? And that meddling marquess! Adam St. Aubyn had better keep his distance from her and cease intruding on her private business. A fifteen-year-old betrothal contract did not give him exclusive ownership of her.
Soon the movement of her hands on the dog soothed her as much as the animal himself, and she felt able to get some sleep. With Winston curled into a gigantic ball on her bed, Sabrina slept more peacefully than she had since her father's death. The sound of the door opening awakened her early the next morning. Sabrina opened her eyes to see Winston lifting his head, and then she heard a low whistling. The dog bounded off the bed, and a moment later the door clicked shut again.
Was the marquess now invading her bedchamber? Sabrina wondered drowsily. His behavior was entirely too familiar and totally inappropriate, even for a fiance. She would give him the lecture of his life when she went down to breakfast.
Two hours later, Sabrina stood outside the dining room. She squared her shoulders, preparing to do battle with the marquess, and marched into the room. Uncle Charles, sitting alone at the head of the long table, was just passing Winston a piece of Oxford sausage.
"Good morning," Sabrina called, relieved that she need not confront the marquess just yet.
"A good morning to you, child," the duke greeted her.
"I see that you've made a new friend," she said, taking the seat on his right side.
Uncle Charles chuckled. He lifted another piece of sausage off his plate and passed it to Winston. "Adam is waiting to speak privately with you in the study."
Sabrina gave him the sweetest smile she could muster and said, "Let him wait."
"He'll be leaving shortly and did wish to—"
"You're leaving?" Sabrina interrupted in surprise. "I thought you were staying through the holiday."
"I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, reaching out to pat her hand, "but business demands that my nephew return to London. By the way, I'm glad you're sorry to see him go."
"I never said that."
"You didn't need to." The duke winked at her and said, "I can see the regret in your pretty green eyes."
"What you see is the gleam of anger, not the glistening tears of regret," Sabrina corrected him, rising from her chair. At that, she marched the length of the dining table to the door, but paused when the duke called to her.
"Child, I do believe Winston cares more for you than sausage," he said.
Sabrina shifted her gaze from the duke to the dog, who stood right behind her. "How comforting to be held in such high esteem," she replied. "Come, Winston."
Followed by her dog, Sabrina walked the length of the long corridor to her father's study. The door was closed, just as it had been on that tragic day. She reached out to knock but then thought better of it; Abingdon Manor was her home, not his. Instead of knocking, Sabrina turned the knob and walked inside.
In the act of packing his papers into a satchel, Adam looked up and then stood as she crossed the chamber. "Come and sit by the hearth," he said. "I want to speak to you."
"I prefer to stand," Sabrina said coolly, crossing the study to the bla
ck marble fireplace.
Adam inclined his head and joined her in front of the hearth. Winston lay down on the rug.
"In the future, refrain from barging into my chamber," Sabrina said, folding her arms across her chest as if to ward off his nearness, staring him straight in the eye.
"I never did that," Adam said, staring back at her.
"You opened my door this morning and whistled to Winston."
"Yes, I did," Adam admitted with a smile. "A world of difference lies between whistling at the threshold and entering the room. Knowing you were sleeping behind that door was an enticement. Princess, you are simply irresistible."
Sabrina dropped her arms to her sides and stared at him in surprise. She couldn't credit that this sophisticated man of the world found her irresistible. She didn't know if she should feel flattered or insulted.
"Stop spying on me," Sabrina managed to say finally. "How can I find a potential husband if you stand guard constantly?"
"I said a suitable gentleman," Adam corrected her. "I do not consider Lord Briggs suitable."
"Why not?"
Adam merely smiled at her.
"Whom do you consider suitable?" Sabrina asked.
"Me."
Sabrina gave him a jaundiced, unamused look.
"I'm sorry, Princess. I must leave for London this morning," Adam said, lifting an ornately carved box off the table. "I've been saving this gift for you since we become betrothed fifteen years ago."
Sabrina could only stare at him. She'd lived her whole life receiving gifts only from her father, and now two men in two days wanted to give her a gift.
"My mother once told my father the story of a princess who kissed a frog and turned it into a charming prince," Adam continued. "Afterward, my father gave my mother this gift."
He opened the box's lid. Inside lay a frog brooch of diamonds set in platinum and gold, with emerald eyes and an emerald bow on one of its back legs.
Sabrina was stunned. Never had she seen a more exquisite brooch. Nobody she knew could purchase such expensive jewels. Who had his father been? Only royalty could afford priceless gems like this.
"I want you to wear this," Adam said.
Sabrina lifted her gaze to his and said, "I couldn't accept—"
"You can and you will." Adam lifted the brooch out of the box and moved to fasten it to her bodice.
"I'll do that," Sabrina said, reaching out to stop his hands before he touched her.
Gently but firmly, Adam pushed her hands down to her sides, saying, "I'll fasten it."
When he inched closer to pin the brooch to her bodice, his touch and his clean masculine scent assaulted her senses. She felt him with every tingling fiber of her body and feared he could hear the frantic beating of her heart.
Finished with his task, Adam slid his fingertips down the side of her breast. Shocked by the intimacy of his touch, Sabrina leaped back from him and, at the same moment, raised her hand to slap him. He caught her wrist before her hand found its target and pulled her against his strong, muscular body.
"You go too far," Sabrina said vehemently.
"Give over, Princess," Adam coaxed in a quiet voice, his blue gaze holding hers captive. "I only want a thank-you kiss."
Sabrina stared at him for a long tension-filled moment. "You may kiss me," she finally relented, offering him her cheek.
"Oh, no, you don't," Adam said, a spark of grudging admiration in his voice. With one finger, he turned her head to face him.
Adam lowered his head to claim her lips in a slow, soul-stealing kiss while his arms encircled her body and drew her against the hard, muscular planes of his chest. His lips on hers were warm and firm and demanding. He flicked his tongue across the crease of her mouth and, when it opened, slipped his tongue inside to taste the sweetness beyond her lips.
Overwhelmed by his intimate touch and the incredible sensation of his tongue caressing her mouth, Sabrina shivered with passion and surrendered to his consuming kiss. She entwined her arms around his neck and returned his kiss in kind. Being held in his embrace felt so comforting, so natural, so exciting.
Winston whined.
And their kiss ended as suddenly and unexpectedly as it had begun.
"That despicable dog has been in residence less than a day, and he's spoiled," Adam said, tracing a finger down the side of her face. "I'll miss you while I'm in London."
Still reeling from his devastating kiss, Sabrina felt flushed all over. Holy hemlock! How could a simple kiss have this effect on her?
"I'm leaving now," he said. "Walk with me."
Uncle Charles was waiting in the foyer, which prevented a repeat of their kiss. Sabrina felt relieved. At least she wouldn't be required to kiss him in front of an audience.
"You'll first call upon Adolphus?" the duke asked Adam.
"Everything will be settled by the time you arrive in London," Adam assured him. He turned to Sabrina, saying, "I'll see you in a few weeks. Admit that you'll miss me."
"I'll miss you"— Sabrina smiled sweetly—"almost as much as my last toothache."
Adam grinned and leaned close to kiss her cheek. Without another word, he walked out the door.
Sabrina watched him climb into the coach. Sagi and Abdul climbed onto the driver's seat, and off they went.
Watching the coach take the marquess away to London, Sabrina didn't feel as relieved as she'd thought she would. In fact, she felt disappointed. Abingdon Manor would seem empty without him.
Sabrina shifted her gaze to the duke and blushed to find his gaze upon her. He looked at the brooch she wore and then smiled.
"I believe this will be my best year ever," he said, and then walked away.
Sabrina touched her frog brooch and smiled to herself. She looked at Winston, who stood beside her wagging his tail.
"Come with me, my friend," Sabrina said, turning away from the door.' 'I have a pretty blue ribbon I want you to wear."
Chapter 6
The month since his departure from Abingdon had passed excruciatingly slowly, Adam decided, relaxing against the leather seat in his coach. Those twenty-six days and nights had seemed more like twenty-six years.
His shipping business and financial investments had kept his days filled with activity. The nights had passed slowly, especially the small hours of the morning when he was alone with his thoughts.
Avoiding his former mistress, Adam had remained at home in the evenings or only ventured to White's Gentlemen's Club to have a drink or a hand of cards with Jamie Armstrong, his closest friend.
Had his abrupt departure from Abingdon Manor relieved or disappointed Sabrina? Adam wondered. Though he'd only known her for a few weeks, being away from her made him feel as if something of value was missing from his life. Could a man actually become emotionally attached to a woman in such a short period of time, or was this attraction merely physical? Her kiss had been sweetly seductive, so unlike those of the sophisticated London flirts.
Adam smiled to himself. Poor Winston had probably been subjected to wearing ribbons since his departure. And pink ribbons at that.
His coach halted in front of number 10 Berkeley Square, the elegant home of Alexis Carstairs, the Countess of Rothbury, his former mistress. Adam lost his smile when he realized he'd reached his destination.
What was so damned urgent? he wondered. He had several things to do before Sabrina's scheduled arrival in London later that day. He hoped Alexis wouldn't make life difficult for Sabrina.
Adam reached for the knocker and slammed it hard against the door several times. A moment later the Car-stairs majordomo opened the door, allowing him entrance.
"Good afternoon, my lord," the man greeted him.
"Where is Lady Carstairs?" Adam asked, marching into the foyer, too hurried to exchange pleasantries with the servant.
"My lady is still closeted in her bedchamber," the majordomo answered.
"Tell her I'm here," Adam ordered, crossing the foyer to the staircase. "I'll wait in the drawin
g room."
"Lady Carstairs bade me tell you to go directly to her chamber."
Adam nodded, acknowledging the man's words, and started up the stairs. How like Alexis to order him to her bedchamber like a queen granting an interview to a courtier. To make matters worse, the servants obviously knew she was receiving him in her bedchamber. Didn't Alexis have sense enough to realize that the servants from one house gossiped with those from another?
Standing outside the third-floor bedchamber, Adam reached for the doorknob but then hesitated. He lifted his hand and knocked instead.
"Come in," called a sultry voice.
Bloody hell, Adam thought when he stepped inside the room. She was waiting for him in bed.
Blond and blue-eyed and voluptuous, Alexis Car-stairs appeared like a goddess of love as she lay languidly beneath the thin coverlet. Her nakedness was apparent.
"I thought you'd never get here," Alexis said in a breathless whisper, obviously meant to entice.
"What is so damned urgent?" Adam asked, staring down at her.
She pouted prettily. "I missed you."
"That is why you summoned me here?" There was no mistaking the irritated disbelief in his voice.
"I want to discuss something with you," she replied.
Adam lifted her black lace nightgown off the foot of the bed and tossed it at her, ordering, "Cover yourself."
Her expression mirrored her surprise. Instead of watching her rise nude from the bed like Venus rising from the sea, Adam crossed the chamber and gazed out the window overlooking the garden.
Alexis stood beside him, slipped her arm through his, and brushed her breast against it. "Remember the night you climbed up the oak tree and into my chamber?" she asked with sultry amusement. "I'll never forget how glad I was that you had persuaded me not to cut it down."
Adam nodded, but refused to spare her a glance.
"You used to be sooo romantic," Alexis said with a sigh, "but you haven't touched me since my beloved Rupert passed away. That was—let me think—six months ago."
"You are in mourning," he reminded her.
"I'm wearing black."
In spite of his irritation, Adam couldn't suppress a smile. The idea of that black lace nightgown being appropriate mourning attire was simply too absurd. The beautiful minx had shed no tears for her husband's passing. Well, he supposed that was the way of the world when a lovely young woman married an old man.
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