Moonstruck Madness (16 page)

A desolate feeling of her accepted fate swept over her suddenly, and carried along by this wave of inevitable destiny, Sabrina ran her fingers through the wiry hair on Lucien's chest, placing nibbling kisses in
a frenzy
across his face.

Lucien's startled eyes opened,
then
grew full of warmth as he stared up into the heart-shaped face above him. He gathered her to him, finding her soft mouth with his and sucking its sweetness as a bee sucks nectar from a flower.

"Ah, little one, how you do please me," he murmured as he felt her small hand fondling him boldly. He looked into her darkened eyes with pleased surprise. She was different. She had taken over the play and was on fire for him, guiding him now with her mounting passion. Her fiery responses and uncontrolled desire ignited a flame in him and he took her fiercely again and again, until they clung together unable to tell where they were not one.

Sabrina looked down on Lucien as he slept deeply, her eyes capturing and memorizing each strong feature of his face. She turned slowly and tiptoed to the door, carefully pulled it open and passed through it soundlessly, then closed it silently behind her without a backward glance at the sleeping man in the large fourposter bed. Quickly surveying the corridor she hurried across to a partially opened door and looked inside. The tumbled bedclothes and personal articles around the room showed her that it was the room Lucien had moved to while she convalesced in his. He would have brought her clothes and weapons here for safekeeping. Sabrina moved instinctively to
a
chest at the foot of the bed and opening the lid smiled with relief to see her coat and breeches. Beneath them were her pistol, rapier and dagger. She quickly pulled the breeches on over the nightshirt. Her shirt and waistcoat were missing, too badly stained and torn to be mended, she thought, as she stood on one foot then the other and slipped her stockings on, rolling them up above her knees and over the tops of her breeches. Stepping into her boots she tugged them on and grabbed up her weapons. With
a
look of triumph she spied her mask in the dim corner of the chest and quickly donned it. Then braiding her hair with deft fingers she tucked it up and covered it with the wig and cocked hat that completed her disguise.

Checking her pistol, which was still primed, she made her way from the room and quietly down the hall, leaving undisturbed the sleeping occupant of the other bedchamber.

The house was quiet. It must be near to dawn, she reckoned, although it was still pitch-black outside the windows. Sabrina quietly made her way down the stairs, then through the door beneath the stairs and down
a
corridor to the kitchen area. Lucien had mentioned absently a storage room being strong enough to hold Will. Silently she entered the kitchen and carefully stood in the darkness.

From the corner came the unmistakable sounds of snoring. Sabrina steadied herself and then followed the sounds of their source. Pressing the cold barrel of her pistol against the sleeping guard's throat, she nudged him lightly and said softly, "I'd not make any abrupt moves, mate, or I'll blow a hole through your head."

The now-awake guard's snoring stopped with a choke and he nearly fell from the chair precariously tipped on its hind legs against the wall. He looked up into the dark as much as the steel against his neck would allow and gulped audibly as he focused on
a
darker mask and two glowing orbs staring down at him.

"Now, unlock the door and let's see if our big friend wants to join us." Sabrina ordered softly.

The guard slowly stood up and fumbled at the lock, the key scraping noisily as he turned it. As the door swung open, Sabrina gave the fellow a push into the room with the pistol and followed close behind.

"Who is it?" Will
demanded
belligerently. "Who else but Bonnie Charlie," Sabrina replied jaunt
ily,
sighing with relief at the sound of his rough voice. "Charlie!" Will
cried
joyously. "Is it really you?" "In the flesh, no ghost haunting you, Will," she answered, drawing her dagger as her eyes found Will's trussed-up form before her in the darkness, her pistol still hard in the servant's back.

In a flash she'd cut his bonds and he was stretching his arms and legs painfully after first knocking out the guard with one effortless swing of his big fist.

"
Been wantin'
to do that since first I laid eyes on the fool's grinning face," he declared with satisfaction.

"Quick, it's near dawn and we must get far from here, Will, before the household awakens," Sabrina warned him nervously.

"Aye, we're away," Will
agreed
easily, his familiar voice like
a
soothing balm to Sabrina's high-wrought emotions.

Beware the fury of a patient man.

John Dryden

Chapter 6

"O
H God, Sabrina, I thought I'd never see you alive again. I've been so worried," Mary
cried,
her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from weeping.

She'd been arranging flowers in the hall when Sabrina had stumbled in, her face drawn and white, looking like death against the blackness of her coat. Hurriedly she had swept her upstairs and out of sight of the servants. She had gasped in horror when she'd seen the healing wound on Sabrina's shoulder and heard about the duel.

But something else was wrong. It hadn't only been the fear of death that had caused the pain in Sabrina's eyes, there was anguish as well. Her face had thinned and her cheekbones stood out visibly. The cockiness was missing from Sabrina's answers, and the swagger from her walk. Of course she was tired and weary from her ordeal—but there was something different about her. Poor little Rina, what had happened to her, Mary agonized silently as she saw the trembling of her sister's mouth.

"Couldn't you see my destiny in your visions, Mary? You did predict danger. But you said all would be for the
best, remember?" Sabrina said softly. "But you were wrong . . . so very wrong."

"I thought I was wrong when you didn't return. John didn't know where you and Will were. We were frantic, but what could we do?" Mary wrung her hands helplessly. "When
I
think that you might have been murdered by that evil man—
I
could die. Oh, why did
1
ever agree to this horrid plan?"

"You had little choice, Mary. How could you stop me? Or, how could we have survived without it? But you needn't worry any longer. Bonnie Charlie is dead. He will no longer roam the highroad after midnight."

"Thank God!
I
feel so relieved. After this, I don't think I could bear waiting for you night after night, wondering if
this time
you would be killed."

Mary pushed Bonnie Charlie's clothes distastefully into the chest and thankfully closed the lid on them. Then, perched on the edge of Sabrina's bed, she watched as Sabrina sipped her tea and halfheartedly pecked at her breakfast.

"I
can't take the chance of running into the Duke," Sabrina explained. "He knows I'm a woman."

"I
imagine he was quite stunned when he discovered you weren't a man?" Mary said with satisfaction, hoping the Duke felt terrible about what he'd done. "I don't like the idea of his caring for you, Sabrina. I mean he was a stranger." She blushed in embarrassment, reluctant to say more.

Sabrina smiled. The less Mary
knew,
the better. How could she explain what had happened? She knew it would stun and embarrass Mary if she tried to. She hardly understood her emotions herself. They'd been so primitive that she blushed herself to remember—but she was not ashamed. It was her memory to cherish.

"I told Aunt Margaret you were helping a sick family, although I'm surprised that she even noticed your absence. We also have a new difficulty."

Sabrina frowned slightly, giving Mary her full attention.

"There is
a
Colonel Fletcher in the area, sent from London expressly to apprehend Bonnie Charlie."

Sabrina sipped her tea thoughtfully. "I see, well, that needn't concern us. As I shall no longer masquerade as
a
highwayman, he has no one to catch. He is here on
a
fool's errand."

Mary shook her head worriedly. "I don't know, Sabrina, there is something about him. He is a very confident man, and I wouldn't underestimate him. When he looks at you with that penetrating gaze," Mary said with a shiver,
"I
feel as though he knows everything."

Sabrina laughed, looking like the old Sabrina. "That's your guilty conscience speaking. Besides, can you actually imagine suspecting us of being criminals? It's absurd, which is exactly what this colonel will be thinking, should such an unlikely thought enter his head. No,
I
see no problems with this Colonel—what was his name?"

"Colonel Terence Fletcher," Mary informed her, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Yes,
I
don't think we'll have any problems with this Fletcher fellow," Sabrina repeated contemptuously, not noticing Mary's flushed face.

"Then of course Lord and Lady Malton called, along with Lord Newley, who was quite distressed not to find you at home. You've made a conquest there."

"Anything in skirts makes
a
conquest with him,"
Sa
brina commented dryly.

Mary sighed, shaking her head in regret.
"I
'm so worried about Richard. He's been so upset since you disappeared. He actually became surly and rude to me."

Sabrina looked up and showed the first signs of real interest in Mary's conversation.

"He would disappear for hours or lock himself up in his room, not answering my summons, missing meals.
I
can't do anything with him. He's always been closer to you, Sabrina," she added without jealousy or rancor. "Speak to him when he comes to see you. He doesn't know you're back. He went out so early this morning. Find out what's
bothering him. He will probably be back to normal now that you're back. I've this feeling that something is wrong, but when I try to see it, it's just a blur, everything is indistinct."

"Don't worry, I'll have a word with him," Sabrina reassured her.

Mary leaned forward earnestly. "You are all right, aren't you, Rina? You have told me everything? Oh, my dear, if only I could have spared you this. I can't stand the thought of you hurt and suffering. I feel as though I've aged a lifetime since you disappeared."

Sabrina reached out and clasped Mary's hands with hers, tightly holding them. "I think we all have, Mary. It's time we changed our lives. We've been so lucky until now. I knew sooner or later our good fortune would run out— but we've stopped in time," she added fervently, trying to convince herself as much as Mary that they were safe. "What can happen? Who would ever believe that Bonnie Charlie was a woman? And the only one, outside of the Taylors, who knows the truth, wouldn't dare tell—he couldn't," Sabrina whispered to herself.

"No, I suppose his vanity and good name would be at stake. Being beaten by a woman," Mary scoffed, and patted Sabrina's clenched hands. "Don't fret, Rina. I suddenly feel wonderful, clearheaded and free of worry. We're safe. Safe—nothing can hurt us anymore." She collected the tray and smilingly left the room humming a little tune.

Sabrina lay back against the fluffy pillows and stared out the window. The sky was a deep, vivid blue with puffy white clouds floating past. A small robin with a yellowish-red breast landed on the sill and chirped importantly to the world, and then cocking its feathery head, it swooped from the sill, gliding over the trees to disappear.

"Rina?" a small voice asked hesitantly from the doorway.

Sabrina looked over and held out her arms. Richard cannoned into them, burying his head against her breast and holding onto her frantically, his sobs muffled against her nightgown. Sabrina soothed his brow, rocking him like a baby.

"I thought you were dead. I thought I'd never see you again! Oh, Rina, don't ever leave me again.
Never!"
His deep cry of anguish tore at Sabrina's heart.

"I won't, love. I'm through with all of that foolishness. We've got everything we need right here.
A roof over our heads, good farmland, food on the table and a fire in the hearth.
We have all we need, Dickie," she comforted him. "This is our home, and someday you'll be master here, and then you can look after me. How does that sound?" Sabrina asked him curiously.

Richard gulped and sniffed a couple of times before raising his head. He looked up into Sabrina's soft violet eyes, a smile beginning to show in his watery blue ones.

"We'll always be together? You'll never go off again, Rina? And I'll be able to care for you and Mary and Aunt Margaret? I'm real strong, see?
Feel."
And he held out a small arm, flexing the muscle manfully.

Sabrina squeezed it lightly. "You're quite right
Every
day you seem to grow bigger."

"I know, soon 111 be taller than you, Rina, although you're pretty small to begin with, so it doesn't really count."

Sabrina laughed for the first time with real amusement hugging Richard close. "Listen, mate, I can still box your ears in a set-to."

Richard grinned, and stretching out his legs in their blue knee breeches and buckled, black leather shoes, said complacently, "I finished six books while you were gone. Mr. Teesdale says I'm far advanced for my age." He looked up at Sabrina proudly.

"Indeed you are. I'm sure you know far more than me."

"Probably," he agreed casually, causing Sabrina to raise her eyebrows until she saw the imp of mischief sparkling in his eyes.

"Rat" she laughed and started tickling him in the ribs. He giggled and squirmed quickly off the bed, the harassed look gone from his eyes as he skipped from the room in childish abandon.

Sabrina curled into a ball and hid her face in the crook of her arm, closing her eyes and mind against all the thoughts that plagued her. She would forget for awhile. She would sleep, and everything would be better when she awoke.

Lucien dismounted and walked his horse along the narrow woodland path. His face was set in angry lines and the scar still throbbed in his cheek as his thoughts swirled through his mind.

His steps were firm and confident as he callously trod through overhanging ferns and grasses. In the shade of a mossy bank he saw a small clump of late-blooming violets and ruthlessly pulled them up, the soft moist loam still clinging to their roots. He stared down at the delicate purple flowers, his hard fingers breaking the fragile stems as he saw two dark, violet eyes staring back at him. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he threw the violets to the path and viciously crushed them beneath the heel of his boot.

He continued on, his mind occupied with plans. He would find her—by God, he would! And heaven help her when he did. He could still feel the hot rage rise in him when he thought of waking this morning and finding her gone. She had escaped from him—along with that giant friend. He smiled cruelly in anticipation of getting his hands on her once again. She'd pay for making him look the fool. He had fallen for that innocent act of hers, the little schemer.

When he remembered her soft body and eager responses to his caresses, her lips kissing his hungrily and asking for more, all he wanted was to have her back in bed with him and wrapped close in his arms.
Fool that he was to let the fire in his loins control
him. He should've
beat
the information out
of
her. The bite
of
the lash was probably
all
she understood.

He admitted that his vanity and masculinity had been wounded by her disappearance. She had tricked him, had played the passionate lover, her soft lips deceiving him while she plotted. He laughed harshly, the sudden sound startling his horse. He was dwelling like some love-sotted, callow youth over his first love. He must be getting senile if that little black-haired vixen and her arrogant ways could disturb him. Well, he would find her, and then teach her a lesson she'd soon not forget.

His servants were at this very moment making inquiries in the villages and hamlets about two large men and
a
small, black-haired girl. They would soon have news
of
that roguish trio—and then he would exact his revenge. He'd ordered his men to be especially observant in the taverns, where gossip was rampant. Dropping that false information in a couple of taverns had led to his capture of Sabrina before—it just might again.

The news should follow him to London very shortly. He eagerly anticipated this—in fact, he felt elated at the thought of meeting her again. It should prove quite interesting. He climbed back into the saddle and urged his horse into a trot as he left the woods and joined the road, his mood lighter as his horse's strides lengthened down the road.