Winston's growling drew their attention. The wolfhound was on his feet, his fangs bared and his hackles raised in preparation to attack.
"Winston, sit," Sabrina ordered.
The wolfhound remained statue-still and continued growling.
"Slowly release my arm and step back a couple of paces," Sabrina ordered Edgar. When he'd done so, she commanded, "Winston, sit."
This time the wolfhound obeyed, but he remained at alert attention, his dark gaze fixed on the baron.
A feeling of guilt swept through Sabrina. She'd never harbored a grudge against anyone in her life, and keeping one against her oldest friend was a terrible thing. She supposed that his believing her father had committed suicide was logical, but his lack of faith in her father disappointed her.
"My father and the duke had been friends since their days at Eton," Sabrina explained, deciding that her oldest friend deserved to know the truth. "When I was an infant, my father betrothed me to the marquess. To his credit, Adam has offered me a way out of the marriage."
"What is that?" Edgar asked coldly.
"If I meet a suitable gentleman during the season, I will be free to marry him," Sabrina said.
Edgar brightened visibly.
"However, Adam does not consider you a suitable prospect," Sabrina added, effectively wiping the smile off his face. "I'm sorry, but I agree with him on that point."
"I see that a countess is too good for a mere baron," Edgar said curtly, his face mottling with anger.
"Your thinking is wrong," Sabrina replied, his insinuation angering her as well. "I could never marry a man who made the rounds of London and spread the word that Courtney and I are adopted bastards."
"I never did such a thing," Edgar insisted. "Who told you that lie, the marquess?"
Sabrina refused to reply.
"Did you know that your precious marquess is practically wed to another woman?" Edgar continued. "Alexis Carstairs, the Countess of Rothbury, has been his mistress for more than a year. Even as we speak, wagers are being made in White's Betting Book as to when they'll announce their wedding plans."
Sabrina felt as if she'd been kicked in the stomach. She paled, his hurtful words and the virulence of his dislike for the marquess making her weak. One of her hands flew to her chest as if to protect herself. She stepped back several paces and then turned to sit on the couch.
"How dare you turn away from me," Edgar said, his voice raised. He reached out to seize her wrist, but the wolfhound leaped to her defense.
Snarling, Winston lunged at the baron. He caught one of his trouser legs and pulled.
When the baron raised his fist to strike the dog, Sabrina sprang into action. She deflected the blow with her arm and tried to leap between them.
"Winston, sit," the marquess ordered from the doorway.
Releasing the baron's trousers from his powerful grip, the wolfhound sat but continued growling low in his throat. Dropping to her knees, Sabrina wrapped her arms around the dog's neck as much to protect him as to hold him back.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," Edgar apologized, but refrained from helping her off the carpet. "I didn't mean to strike you, only to protect myself."
Sabrina nodded in understanding but remained silent. She didn't trust herself to speak lest she tell her oldest friend in no uncertain terms what she thought of him at that moment.
"What is going on here?" Adam demanded, marching across the drawing room toward them.
"That dog attacked me and should be put down," Edgar said.
"Put down for protecting me?" Sabrina cried. "I think not"
"Winston was protecting you?" Adam echoed. He turned a deadly gaze on the baron and stepped closer, asking, "What were you doing to her?"
"Sabrina and I were arguing when she paled as if faint," Edgar explained. "When I reached out to help her, this monster attacked me."
Sabrina snapped her gaze to the baron. He was lying, albeit to protect himself from the marquess's wrath, but that lie had slipped from his lips as if they'd been greased.
A man who lies once will lie many times, Sabrina thought. How many of his past lies had she believed without question? How could she trust a friend who lied with such ease?
Adam looked from the baron to Sabrina. Unwilling to cause anymore trouble, she dropped her gaze to the dog.
"Well, Lord Briggs, I'm certain Sabrina appreciates an old friend stopping by for a visit," Adam said in a not so subtle hint for the man to leave. "Will we be seeing you on Saturday?"
Instead of replying, Edgar turned to Sabrina and said, "I apologize for the misunderstanding and will, of course, be attending your coming-out. If you need me, I am staying at my sister's in Bedford Square." At that, he walked across the drawing room and disappeared out the door.
"Shame on you," Adam scolded the dog, reaching out to pat his head. "What kind of hound mistakes a weasel for a wolf?"
Winston whined as if he understood.
Sabrina felt confused. She could have sworn that the marquess disliked Edgar.
"Why did you invite him to my coming-out?" she asked.
"I thought you and Courtney would be glad that an old friend from Abingdon was there," Adam told her. He glanced toward the empty doorway and added, "I like Edgar Briggs as much as I trust him, which is not at all."
"Edgar has been behaving badly since the day of my father's death," Sabrina said. "Your appearance in Abingdon only made matters worse. I don't much like him anymore either."
"Shall I univite him?" Adam interrupted.
Sabrina shook her head.
"You make a fetching picture in your new gown," Adam said, reaching out to help her off the floor. "Isn't this better than draping yourself in dreary black?"
Baxter walked into the drawing room before she could reply. Keeping a wary gaze fixed on the wolfhound, the majordomo announced, "The Duke and Duchess of Kinross have arrived."
"Show them, in," Adam said.
When the majordomo left, Sabrina took a moment to smooth her gown. She peeked at the marquess, who was watching her.
"Don't trouble yourself about your appearance," Adam said. "Improving upon perfection is an impossible task."
Sabrina blushed at his outrageous compliment. She dropped her gaze to Winston and asked, "Are they afraid of dogs?"
"We love dogs and various other creatures," a man's voice said, drawing her attention.
James Armstrong, the Duke of Kinross, appeared as tall and well built as the marquess. His dark hair matched Adam's, but his eyes were blacker than a moonless midnight.
The Duchess of Kinross was petite and sported thick ebony hair, but her blue eyes rivaled the marquess's for brilliance. Exquisitely lovely, she'd been blessed with a warm, infectious smile.
"James and Lily, may I present Sabrina Savage, the Countess of Abingdon," Adam made the introductions. "Sabrina, these are my friends the Duke and Duchess of Kinross."
"Your Graces, I am honored to make your acquaintance," Sabrina said, and then curtsied.
"Call me Lily," the duchess said. "I only married the title."
"Call me Jamie," the duke said. "Please, no curtseying to me. It makes me feel older than my twenty-five years. Besides"—he glanced at his wife and winked—"I didn't earn the title, merely inherited it."
"I wouldn't wish to make you feel old," Sabrina said with a smile, and relaxed.
"Is this the wolfhound you found in Oxford?" Lily asked, her gaze on the dog.
"Yes, this is Winston." Sabrina blushed to realize the marquess had spoken of her to his friends.
Lily promptly removed her gloves and offered the wolfhound her hand. Winston sniffed her palm and then licked it.
"You adorable puppy," Lily said, patting him.
"My wife loves all sorts of creatures," Jamie told Sabrina.
Lily smiled at her husband as if his remark held a secret meaning for her. "A ribbon would dress Winston up prettily, don't you think?" she asked.
Sabrina rounded on Adam and gave him a look that said I t
old you so.
"Let's sit down in front of the hearth," Adam suggested.
Sabrina and Lily sat on the couch. Adam and James occupied the chairs opposite them. Sabrina had the sudden feeling that the duke and duchess knew the secret of her betrothal. Or perhaps sitting there together made her feel that Adam and she were the two halves of one couple.
"When we left the house, Sarah was playing with the doll you gave her," Lily said to Adam. "Chewing on it, as I recall."
"Sabrina deserves the credit for choosing the cloth doll," Adam replied.
"On behalf of my daughter, I thank you," Lily said, turning to her.
"How old is she?" Sabrina asked.
The topic of her daughter brought a smile to the duchess's lips. "Sarah is just a year old."
"Walk with me to the study," Adam said to Jamie. "I promised to retrieve some papers for my uncle."
Jamie immediately rose from his chair, saying, "If you ladies will excuse us, we'll return shortly."
Without another word, the two friends left them alone in the drawing room. Sabrina and Lily looked at each other uncomfortably before their gazes skittered away.
Sabrina worried about what topic would be appropriate to discuss with the beautiful American duchess. And then it struck her. The weather was always suitable. No danger there.
"We've been enjoying good weather, don't you think?" Sabrina said stiffly.
"Yes, the weather has held marvelously well," Lily replied, glancing sidelong at her. Then she drawled, "If a person likes yellow fog, that is."
Sabrina smiled. "Actually, I prefer the country to city life."
"No fog?"
"None whatsoever."
The two women smiled at each other.
"You do realize the gentlemen left us alone on purpose," Lily said. "My husband wants us to become friends."
"We needn't be friends if you'd rather not," Sabrina said.
"London society hasn't exactly welcomed me with open arms," Lily admitted. "Although no one has dared to be rude, I'm certain they consider me an American upstart. I thought you might disapprove of me too."
"I'm sorry for your bad experience," Sabrina replied.
"Don't be sorry," Lily said, reaching for the needlework on the table. "The fault doesn't lie with you."
Sabrina felt an embarrassed blush slowly heating her cheeks when the duchess opened the cloth to examine the crooked stitches. Embroidery was one feminine pastime she had never mastered. In fact, she hadn't cared a fig about sewing until this very moment when the duchess was inspecting her stitches.
"What remarkable needlework," Lily commented, glancing at her.
"Remarkably horrible."
"You sew much better than I do."
"Do I?" Sabrina just knew the American was patronizing her.
Lily opened her reticule and pulled out a handkerchief. "Look at this," she said, offering it to her. "Don't worry; it's clean."
That remark brought a smile to Sabrina's face. She opened the handkerchief and laid it flat on her lap. In the next instant, Sabrina burst out laughing. The duchess had spoken truthfully; her stitches were even more crooked than her own.
"Why, Winston could do a better job," Sabrina said, relief loosening her tongue.
Lily laughed. "I have no doubt of that."
"I meant no insult," Sabrina said.
"None taken," Lily told her. "Your embroidery is horrid too until compared with mine."
Forbes and Baxter walked into the drawing room. Each carried a silver tray; one held a Worcester tea and coffee service and the other a platter of almond cake slices.
"Down, Winston," Sabrina ordered when the dog stood to gobble the cake.
The wolfhound lay down again but kept his gaze fixed on the food. Streams of drool began to slide from the corners of his mouth.
Sabrina lifted two pieces of cake off the platter, broke them up onto a serving dish, and set it down in front of the dog. Winston leaned his head over the dish and began eating.
"Surrendering to the inevitable is sometimes easier," Sabrina said. "I baked last night, and Winston simply adores my—"
"You bake?" Lily asked in obvious surprise. "Did you bake this?"
Sabrina nodded.
"Delicious," Lily exclaimed after tasting the almond cake. "I didn't realize that the English aristocracy cooked and baked."
"Cooking and baking relax me," Sabrina told her. "I do it whenever I'm upset or nervous."
Lily grinned. "Oh, I do believe we'll be great friends after all," she said.
"Do you bake when you're upset?" Sabrina asked.
"No, I eat."
Sabrina burst out laughing.
"I'm so glad you're not snobby like those other ladies I've met," the duchess said, reaching out to touch her arm.
"I'm relieved to have found you," Sabrina agreed. "Do you have any hobbies? I mean, in addition to embroidery."
"I'm learning the pianoforte," Lily told her. "Baby Sarah shrieks with displeasure whenever I practice, so I don't think I'm ready for a recital."
Sabrina smiled at the other woman's honesty.
"I love animals, read voraciously, and am acquiring a taste for shopping." Lily paused for a moment and, with a smile, added, "You could say that my love for reading brought James and me together."
"His Grace has an interest in reading, too?"
"His Grace had a profound interest in my choice of reading material," Lily answered.
"What was it?" Sabrina asked.
"Secret codes, maps, and messages."
Sabrina felt confused. "I don't understand."
"I have been blessed with the ability to look only once at a page of writing and repeat what it says without changing a word," Lily told her. "During the recent conflict between our countries, I aided the American cause by memorizing British codes or giving detailed descriptions of supposed spies. James felt certain that this gift of mine had secured his brother's capture and death as a spy. He abducted me and dragged me to England to sit out the rest of the war. We fell in love and married."
"How wildly romantic and adventurous," Sabrina exclaimed. "Weren't you frightened?"
"I was angry," Lily answered. "And, as I recall, I wasn't feeling particularly romantic at the time. Adventures aren't as exciting as you might think."
"May I ask you a question?" Sabrina said, uncertain if she was doing the right thing by speaking up.
Lily nodded.
"This morning an old friend from Abingdon stopped by and told me that Adam has a mistress named Alexis Carstairs. Do you know her?"
"That doesn't sound like a friend to me," Lily said.
"You haven't answered my question," Sabrina said.
"Alexis Carstairs is the very beautiful and very wealthy widow of the late Earl of Rothbury, a man old enough to be her grandfather," Lily said, lowering her voice. "Shallow, arrogant, and conniving are the words I'd use to describe her. She's been angling after Adam since I've known him, even before her husband died."
"Is she ..." Sabrina hesitated for a moment but then continued, asking, "Is she really his mistress?"
The other woman's cheeks turned pink. "I don't know, but I could ask my husband if you wish."
"That won't be necessary," Sabrina said, shaking her head. "I apologize for making you uncomfortable."
Lily patted her hand. "Adam has as much integrity as my husband. I'm certain he's never succumbed to that woman's wiles."
Speaking so intimately about the marquess made Sabrina feel uncomfortable, but she thought the duchess might know something about Adam's background.
"The marquess has told me that he hails from the south of France," Sabrina said. "I know his father died when Adam was ten. It was then he came to England for his education. While he was here, his mother and his brother died."
"Yes, that's true," Lily said with a nod.
"Do you know anything else about him?" Sabrina asked.
Lily gave her a puzzled look and answered, "Why don't you ask
Adam?"
"He evades almost all of my questions," Sabrina replied. "I've had the feeling that he's hiding something from me and thought that you—"
Lily burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but you make him seem so nefarious. I'm positive the man is merely being perverse to annoy you. However, my husband knows absolutely everything about the marquess. I could ask him some questions for you, if you'd like."
Sabrina shook her head. "I'm afraid he'd tell Adam that I'd been prying. I'll probably learn more in time." Changing the subject, she said, "Tell me about America."
"America is almost paradise," Lily said.
Sabrina smiled. "You remain loyal to your native country."
"I hope you aren't overly patriotic," Lily said, "for I don't want my pet to offend you in any way when you come to visit."
"What kind of pet do you have?"
"An albino pig," Lily answered. "When he was a mere piglet, I saved him and his mother from becoming dinner on board my husband's ship."
"What does a pig have to do with patriotism?" Sabrina asked, puzzled.
"I named him Prinny in honor of the Prince Regent."
Sabrina burst out laughing, and Lily joined her. When Winston sat up and stole a piece of the almond cake off the table, they only laughed harder. Adam and Jamie found them like that when they walked into the drawing room a moment later.
"You know the dog cannot be trusted near food, Adam said to Sabrina.
"Let it go," Jamie said, obviously pleased that his wife had apparently found a friend. "Lily and I must be leaving."
Lily rose from the couch. "You will come to tea one afternoon?" she asked.
"I'd like that very much," Sabrina answered, rising from the couch when the other woman did. "Give Prinny my best regards."
As soon as the duke and duchess disappeared out the door, Adam turned to her and gave her a devastating smile. "I'm pleased that you and Lily like each other."
"She's not what I expected," Sabrina said.
His expression on her was warm. "And what did you expect?"
Sabrina thought of Alexis Carstairs. "I expected shallow, arrogant, and conniving."
"You will meet plenty of those types among the ton," Adam told her, and then changed the subject. "Have you begun your journal writing?"
"Yes, I was writing when Edgar arrived," Sabrina replied.
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