Moonstruck Madness (20 page)

A medium-sized man in a rose-colored silk coat with matching waistcoat and breeches, white silk stockings and elegant pumps, his powdered wig tied back with a black ribbon and a black silk patch on one cheek, bowed mockingly to them as they stood there like ghosts.

Sabrina's face paled as she stared hypnotically into eyes the same shade of violet as her own, black eyebrows that arched in the same curve. But there the similarity ended, for the man's face was tired and lined with cynicism. His mouth curved into a cruel smile at the stunned expressions on the faces about him.

"What, no glad cries of greeting from my daughter?" the Marquis asked amusedly,
then
his eyes narrowed as they focused on the silent Richard. "So, you are my son? Don't take much after me do you? Look
like
a real little Scotsman with that red hair," he sneered, casually taking a pinch of snuff.

"Your seed did little to mark him, my lord. He has his character and intelligence from his Scottish ancestors. I, as you can plainly see," Sabrina mocked him back, "
am
the only one who bears the Verrick looks—and the cursed temper and tongue that go with them. So beware, my lord, should you decide to exercise your wit at my family's expense."

The Marquis sucked in his breath in a gasp of surprise, sneezing violently several times. He recovered quickly and a reluctant smile of admiration crossed his dissipated features.

"I stand warned, but my friends also say that I can charm the devil, too. I wonder if your forte extends to that
also?
"

"Friends?"
Sabrina questioned doubtfully, a dark, silky brow arched delicately in disbelief. "I didn't think you had any, my lord?"

The Marquis was silent for a moment before laughing loudly with genuine amusement, his face for once innocent of its contemptuous expression. He was still smiling as the salon door opened and the Contessa
entered,
a curious expression on her face as she saw the Marquis' smiling face.

"Luciana, my love, she is priceless, and a chip off the old block. By God, it is too much to be hoist on my own petard. Imagine being bested by my own daughter." He wiped at his eyes with a jessamine-scented handkerchief. "How fortunate that the Contessa and I decided to return a day early, or I would have missed this loving little exchange with my family."

"A pity we are leaving this afternoon, but then it is always wiser to take one's medicine in small doses," Sabrina said sweetly. "If you'll excuse us, my lord, we've things to see to before we depart."

"Now where are your manners, my dear? You haven't met my wife, Luciana, yet."

The Contessa had been standing silently in the doorway and now she swept forward in a wave of perfume and rustling silk, her fingers weighed down with jeweled rings as she stretched out her welcoming hands.

"Oh,
caro,
this one
e molto bella,"
she cried, and cupping Sabrina's small chin in her hand stared down into her face in amazement. "It is unbelievable that she would look such as you,
caro.
And this one, oh, so dear," she said, and gave the speechless Richard a big hug.
"Such hair!"
She chuckled good-naturedly,
then
turned her attention again to Sabrina, whose eyes had widened in realization as she'd watched the Contessa, remembering where she'd seen her before. Her lips quivered with amusement as she thought of the incident and the Contessa's pearl earrings, her dimple appearing briefly in her cheek.

"Ah, she even has the dimple,
caro!"
the Contessa said shaking her head.

"Yes, it would seem that she is a great deal like me, my love," the Marquis admitted proudly, with a touch of vanity as he saw himself in Sabrina.

The Contessa made herself comfortable on the settee beside Mary, and taking one of Mary's cold hands she commented thoughtfully, "This one is like the Madonna, she is very quiet, but she sees and knows, eh, child?" she asked, looking into Mary's surprised eyes. "I have ordered tea, a disgusting custom, for your family, but for me a little sherry," the Contessa told them as she stared at Mary and Sabrina with a penetrating gaze, then said something to the Marquis in Italian, her words seeming to have a startling effect on him, for his eyes narrowed speculatively and an amused smile softened his mouth. "I have always believed you to be an astute and very clever woman, Luciana, but now I must congratulate you."

Sabrina stared at them uneasily, not liking the assessing look they were giving Mary and herself. Richard's arm sneaked around Sabrina's waist and he moved closer as he silently watched the man who was his father, and whom he had seen for the first time today. Aunt Margaret had closed herself off completely from the unpleasantness, seldom looking up at her brother or the Contessa.

Sabrina came to a decision. "Come along, Mary, Richard, Aunt Margaret." She motioned to them to follow her. "We will take our leave of you, my lord, and trust that we will not meet again."

"Oh, but we shall," the Marquis answered conversationally as he poured both himself and the Contessa a sherry from the decanter a footman had brought in on a tray, along with a silver teapot and plate of sweets which the Contessa was choosing from. "I've a notion to become reacquainted with my dear family. It has been such a long time. A pity I didn't visit you at Verrick House sooner, you've made it quite comfortable, although a bit rustic for my tastes. Yes, I think I really must get to know you all much better," he taunted, watching Sabrina with detached interest as her eyes flashed with anger. She walked over to him, looking unbelievably beautiful. He sat down with his sherry, prepared to enjoy himself.

"Family!" she laughed harshly.
"Since when have you, the irresistible Marquis, admitted to having a family?
You've always been too busy traveling through Europe on your Grand Tours to inquire about the health and happiness of your family. Oh, no, why you even were too busy to come to see your wife buried. Before she was even cold you were off to London, your son only a few days old and not even seen by his father, the mighty Marquis. And what has it been now? Ten years since we last saw your fatherly face? Are you sure you even remember our names, or how many children you sired?"

Sabrina's angry eyes flashed as she stared down at the Marquis whose face had become a pale and rigid mask, his knuckles white as his hand gripped the fragile crystal stem of his glass.

"You're no father to us. The only father we ever knew was our grandfather. The only affection we ever received was from him."

Sabrina turned on her heel and stalked to the door where she turned around, Mary and Richard on each side of her, and Aunt Margaret nervously hovering nearby. "We don't need you, or want you, my lord," she told him coldly, bitterness shaking her voice.

The Marquis stood up slowly, a cruel expression on his face. "My, my, no love lost between us, is there? Quite a little family group you've become. So loyal and clannish, it must be the Scots blood in you. The old man did a thorough job on all of you, didn't he? I should never have allowed him to snatch you off to the Highlands with him. Even my own sister as well, who hasn't a drop of Scots blood in her, has turned against me." He looked at the Contessa, who'd sat in silent dismay through the scene and gave a wry smile. "You see, they have turned against me, Luciana."

He picked up his gold-headed cane from the floor beside his chair and began tapping it thoughtfully as he pondered his words, then looking up he spoke in a hard voice directed at the four people standing before the door.

"Now let me tell you a few truths. I am still your legal guardian. I have full and complete authority over the lot of you. Should I decide, I could throw dear Margaret out of the house and leave her to manage on her
own.
You wouldn't like that, would you?"

Aunt Margaret gave a wounded cry, tears crowding into her eyes, and with a sniff slumped down into the nearest chair. Mary rushed over to her and put a comforting arm about her shaking shoulders, and glared back at her father.

"Of course, I haven't decided to do that yet. And of course there are the rest of you. I could easily separate you. Take Richard on my next trip to Europe. Educate him properly."

"Caro"
the Contessa pleaded softly, "you upset the
bambino."

"I'll handle my family," he answered in a bored tone, taking a pinch of snuff carelessly. "You see, Sabrina, I still hold that winning hand. I always have and always will. No, you will stay here in London—at least, you and Mary will. The house is too small to accommodate all of us comfortably, and besides, there isn't much to amuse a small boy, or Margaret, here in town. They will proceed back to Verrick House as planned." He met Sabrina's angry look, daring her to contradict him, unmoved by Richard's unhappy face and trembling mouth.

Sabrina glared at him for
a
moment, feeling impotent and furious, then with an angry stamp of a small foot, turned and ran from the room. At that, as if they were all released from immobility, Mary, Richard and Aunt Margaret followed her in a quick exodus, leaving the Marquis and Contessa sipping their sherry in the salon.

Mary and Richard found Sabrina stretched out on the bed in their room, crying brokenly into her pillow. They climbed onto the bed and sat beside her. Sabrina rolled over onto her back, shaking her head in disbelief.

"What is happening? Why, Mary? Why is everything falling apart? Nothing is the same—nothing. Why is everything changing? We were so happy at Verrick House. We should never have left there."

At Richard's sob Sabrina turned
a
grief-stricken face to him. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry. You know I would give anything to have gotten you your glasses. You know that. I don't regret one single thing because of it." She hugged him close and felt his trembling body.

"It would have happened anyway. They would've come to Verrick House and found us there. It was out of our hands; it was inevitable."

"Damn him!" Sabrina cried angrily. "He thinks he can come back and play the father to us, ordering us about. Well, he has a surprise coming if he thinks to get away with that." Sabrina sighed, a puzzled look on her face. "I wonder what his game
is?
He doesn't do something unless there is some gain in it for him."

"I don't like him. I hate him!" Richard said sullenly, sniffing at his tears. "And I won't go with him, either."

"He'll leave soon, he must. Hell
get
tired of playing with us."

"You won't let him take me, will you, Rina?" Richard tugged at her arm, a pleading look in his eyes.

Sabrina smiled. "He'll never take you from us—or separate us." She smiled with anticipation. "Should he decide to play rough, then so can we."

Richard visibly relaxed against Sabrina as she and Mary exchanged worried glances, Mary's tinged with apprehension at the determined look on Sabrina's face.

Mary suddenly gasped, giving Richard an encompassing stare. "In all of the excitement I nearly forgot about your eyeglasses, Richard," she cried.

Richard's face cleared, and with a beaming smile held his face up for her inspection. "I can see ever so
good
, Mary. I'm going to learn how to shoot as good as anybody, too."

Mary smiled happily. "That's wonderful.
The only bright spot in this day.
It makes everything worthwhile."

Sabrina looked at Richard's happy face and knew that what Mary said was true—it had all been worth it. After a quiet luncheon by themselves, Mary and Sabrina bid a tearful farewell to Richard and Aunt Margaret, Hobbs muttering under her breath while she gathered up Aunt Margaret's scattered sewing. They watched from the door, waving until the coach disappeared from sight, and then went back inside to wait anxiously in the salon for the Marquis' next move.

It came at teatime while Mary was pouring the dark brew into wafer-thin cups. The door was opened and the Marquis entered, relaxed and fresh from a rest.

"Ah, just what I need, a cup of tea.
Pour your father a cup, Mary," he ordered pleasantly. He watched her for a moment as she capably fixed him a cup, her movements smooth and sure. "You know, I really had no idea that I had two such attractive daughters. Of course, Sabrina's looks are extraordinary, but you, Mary, with your red hair and gray eyes, are quite lovely, a quiet, serene type of beauty. Yes, yes, I'm really quite pleased. It was the Contessa who brought it to my attention. You see," he confided, "we are in a bit of a financial difficulty at the moment. That is why we came to England, partly to escape our creditors and to see if I could raise some money by selling some land I own." He looked at Sabrina slyly. "And maybe even Verrick House."