Moonstruck Madness (31 page)

Colonel Fletcher stared at Sabrina's pale face, her look
of
despair confirming the news. "It would seem that you were right about the Marquis," he said grimly. "I've not had the pleasure of meeting him; however, I intend to make his acquaintance."

"Glad you're here, Fletcher. Been
wanting
to ask you what you intend doing about that rogue, Bonnie Charlie. Thought you'd have caught the blackguard by now. We won't stand for much more of this harassment by that Scots cur," Malton threatened, his good humor forgotten for the moment. "Right, Newley?"

But Lord Newley wasn't
listening,
he was staring morosely at Sabrina's heart-shaped face, his eyes watching every expression that crossed her lovely features.

"Guess Newley's got other things on his mind," Lord Malton commented snidely, winking broadly at Colonel Fletcher. "He won't be the only one sorry to have the Lady Sabrina wed. Hear she made a big sensation in London."

"I think you need not concern yourselves over the problem of Bonnie Charlie much longer," Colonel Fletcher said, changing the subject, "for I feel it will resolve itself very shortly."

Lord Malton puffed out his cheeks and stamped his cane on the floor. "You know something, eh? Good. About time we ridded ourselves of this wretched fellow. Expect to be informed of your movements, Fletcher. Want to be in on the kill, damned if I don't."

Colonel Fletcher barely concealed his expression of distaste. How easily the civilian talked of killing. He wondered how eager he would be if he saw over a thousand mangled and dead bodies in one afternoon's fighting.

"The ladies were just telling me how fatigued they were from the fair, and about an unfortunate scuffle that ensued on the grounds, so I think I'll bid them adieu," he suggested, glancing at the two lords expectantly, leaving them little choice but to follow suit.

"I had hoped to learn more about your engagement, Lady Sabrina," said Lord Malton. "When the wedding will occur, and if you'll be married in London?
So much to tell, you know, what with everyone so interested.
I do know that the Duke had only until this week to wed or he'd lose Camareigh. Wonder if that still applies." He looked to Sabrina for enlightenment, but on receiving no encouragement on her cold features, shrugged good-naturedly. "Well," must be off then."

"If you'd be interested in learning about my plans for Bonnie Charlie, I suggest we make haste, I've an inspection to see to, gentlemen," Colonel Fletcher spoke authoritatively, hurrying them on their way. Before leaving the room behind them he added, "I will be back to continue our discussion, ladies."

Sabrina sat as though turned to
stone,
the only sound the monotonous ticking of the clock. She bent her head, hiding her face from view, her shoulders slumped in defeat. A muffled sob escaped from her and she slumped further into herself as she huddled in the chair.

Mary quickly rushed over and knelt beside her, wrapping her arms around Sabrina's shaking shoulders. She let her cry, her sobs wracking her slim body as she drained herself of pent-up emotion.

"What am I going to do? I thought I would have more time, and I never imagined that they would go ahead and announce it without my presence. Once again I've underestimated Lucien. I had forgotten how cunning he can be." Sabrina looked up tearfully. "Well, I will not do it! I will not be forced into marriage with him! I couldn't bear it, not after the humiliation he put me through. I must do something. He'll pay for this. He deserves to lose his estates and become the laughingstock when I leave him at the altar as his previous fiancée did," Sabrina threatened, her violet eyes glowing with anticipation of revenge.

Mary shook her head helplessly. "I don't think you can prevent him. How can you stop the marriage now that everyone knows about it? Why not go ahead and marry him, Rina? It would settle everything, especially now that Colonel Fletcher knows about us. How can you continue to get money with him watching everything we are doing? I can't see any way out of this."

"I will not accept it," Sabrina said defiantly, her voice beginning to grow strong and hardening with resolution. "Mary, we have so much money already. If I can just get a little bit more, then I will personally take it to the Marquis and he will leave us alone. Besides, if the Duke cannot find me, then he has no bride to wed!"

Mary sat back on her heels, staring at Sabrina's determined face. "I think Colonel Fletcher was right, we've been living in a make-believe world."

"Mary," Sabrina cried, her eyes mirroring hurt, "you can't desert me now. I thought we were a family?" She bit her lip nervously. She just couldn't lose Mary. "You aren't turning against me, are you?"

"Of course not, Rina, how could you think such a thing," Mary reassured her, worried by the almost feverish look in Sabrina's eyes.

"Good." Sabrina smiled, giving her a hug before rising to her feet. "We've got to make plans, Mary. Unless I am sorely deceived I would imagine we are in for a visit from either the Marquis or Lucien, and I have no intention of being present when they do show up."

Mary laughed nervously. "So I am to be the welcoming committee? I do not look forward to it. The Duke has struck me as being a very forceful man, and we both know only too well how he exacts punishment against those that cross him. He will be outraged if you make him the laughingstock of London as you have predicted, and then cause him to lose his estate." Mary shuddered at the thought, touching her own soft cheek as she remembered his. "That scar makes him seem almost diabolical, it is quite dreadful."

Sabrina turned on her indignantly. "There is nothing wrong with his scar. How dare you imply that it is ugly, or loathsome?" Sabrina said sharply, surprising herself by her sudden, passionate defense of him.

Mary's gray eyes widened in surprise.
"I'm
sorry,
I didn't mean it was repulsive at all. It just makes him look dangerous. That is all, Rina," Mary explained gently.

"I'm the one who's sorry. I've been such a trial to you, I know, but everything is on the edge of collapse, and I'm at my wits' end. I'm meeting Will and John this evening, and I will figure out a plan. I won't be able to stay here and still get out as Bonnie Charlie. They mustn't be able to stop me." She left the room, her stride purposeful and firm.

" 'O
tiger's heart wrapp'd in a woman's hide!'" a voice said softly.

Mary spun around at the sound. "Aunt Margaret! Have you been here all of the time?"

Aunt Margaret left her seat in the bow window where she'd sat unobserved behind the folds of a velvet hanging. She tiptoed into the room, glancing about for anyone lurking nearby.

"I do so hate crowds of people, don't you? Odd," she puzzled, "Malty hasn't changed any since he was just a little boy, although he was always plump and always telling tales, too."

Mary smiled at Aunt Margaret's description of Lord Malton,
then
tried to explain to her the importance of not talking about the conversation she'd overheard.

"But, my dear, I keep the most divine secrets, really I do, besides, that is no secret," she scoffed at Mary's surprised face. She hugged her tapestry to her as she rocked to and fro, a complacent smile on her lips. "Now
I
know a real secret, but I mustn't tell you, dear, at least not yet."

Mary walked over to her and taking her by the shoulders held her wandering attention. "Now, Aunt Margaret, you will forget all that you heard between Sabrina and me, and you promise you won't repeat it?"

Aunt Margaret shook her head conspiratorially, a sly look entering her blue eyes as she whispered, "My lips are sealed, m'dear." She slipped from the room quietly, her slippered feet making no sound. Mary closed her eyes. What more could happen?

She suddenly heard the sound of horse's hooves and wondered who was calling so late in the afternoon. Surely Lord Malton would not have returned to quench his thirst for gossip? She walked over to the window and glanced out to see a solitary rider approaching the house at a deliberate gait, the big red horse kicking up dust as he made his way up the drive. The rider became visible as he passed by the window, and Mary drew back in panic as she recognized that arrogant face marred by the scar.

Demoniac frenzy, moping melancholy,

And
moonstruck
 
madness
.

John Milton

Chapter
11

"
S
ABRINA!" Mary called out as she hurried into Sabrina's
room.
"He's here."

Sabrina glanced around curiously. "Who is here?" she asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand. She'd removed her gown and was lying in her petticoat and corset on the bed. She wriggled her stockinged feet lazily and stared at Mary's flushed face.

"The Duke, Rina," she told her clearly.

The drowsiness left Sabrina's eyes abruptly, alarm spreading across her features. "Here?" she demanded incredulously.

"Yes. I just saw him ride up the drive. He is probably in the house this very instant demanding to see you."

Sabrina swung her feet to the edge of the big bed and hopped down. "Well, he will not find me here."

"Oh, but he already has," a cool voice spoke from the door.

Mary gave a startled squeal and spun around like a hare caught in a trap. Sabrina turned slowly at the familiar voice. She was breathing rapidly, her breasts rising and falling beneath their thin covering of lace as she faced Lucien. She stiffened her back and, squaring her shoulders, said coldly, "I think you mistake the room you are in, Your Grace. As you can see, I am dressing."

Mary became aware of Sabrina's dishabille and hurriedly fetched
her a
dressing gown, which Sabrina gratefully accepted and quickly slipped on. The dark purple velvet sleeves covered her bare arms while the fitted waist partially covered her lacey bodice. She'd released her hair from its knot and it now hung down her back and over her shoulder in a smooth dark cloud.

"No, I've made no mistake, Sabrina. Women often invite men into their bedchambers as they dress, and, after all, we are betrothed, aren't we?" he asked softly as he left the doorway and intruded further into the room. He wore buckskin breeches moulded to his muscular thighs and a double-breasted frock coat. High jackboots covered his knees and were covered in a light coating of fine dust.

"I do not think the circumstances apply here," Sabrina contradicted him, "and I have not invited you in, either."

Mary glanced nervously between them, afraid to move or make a sound. Lucien tossed his cocked hat and gloves onto a chair and turned his attention to the two women standing uncertainly before him.

"I can plainly see by the fear in your eyes, Lady Mary, that you have been given the worst details concerning me and you are concerned about having such an ogre for
a
brother-in-law. Of course, considering the company your sister keeps, you might have done far worse, say with
a
highwayman or pickpocket?"

Mary licked her dry lips nervously, but before she could find
a
suitable reply, Sabrina answered abruptly.

"You may taunt me, Lucien, but not Mary. She is not up to your subtle sarcasms or cruel witticisms, nor does she deserve them."

Lucien inclined his head slightly. "I bow to your greater knowledge of the lady, but as she is a relation of yours, as is the Marquis, I doubt your wisdom to judge them. Itwould seem there are certain character traits that are unmistakable in this family."

"How dare you come into my home and insult us, and how dare you make that ridiculous announcement when you know that I will not marry you?"

Lucien's mouth tightened ominously and his eyes narrowed as he held up his hand for silence. "I do not think we need an audience to play to." He turned to Mary and indicated the door. "If you will be so kind, your sister and I have a few matters to discuss in private."

Sabrina's nostrils flared in anger. "You go too far, Lucien. How dare you—"

"I'll dare anything, and unless you want to further embarrass and distress your sister by what I shall say, then
I
suggest you agree to our privacy."

Sabrina glanced at Mary indecisively, unsure of what to do.

"I shall get Sims and the footmen, and have him thrown out!" Mary declared bravely.

Lucien laughed unpleasantly. "I doubt they would enjoy throwing a Duke out of the door on his tail, assuming they could, of course. And also, as I have a letter of introduction from the Marquis giving me complete authority over this household in his absence, I imagine they would think twice before executing such a plan."

"You've complete authority!" Sabrina fumed. "You can take your authority to blazes for all the notice I'll take of it."

"Lady Mary," Lucien said softly, placing a gentle, yet firm hand on her arm as he guided her to the door.

"Rina," she began, looking over her shoulder in consternation.

"It's all right, Mary, I'll handle His Grace. But don't have a guest room prepared, for he shall not be staying."

Lucien closed the door behind Mary and turned back to Sabrina, a glint in his sherry-colored eyes. "So, I will not be staying?"

"No, you will not," Sabrina replied firmly, despite his approaching figure and menacing expression.

He came to a halt less than a foot before her and stared down into her violet eyes. "I do not enjoy being made the fool, which you seem fond of doing, nor do I like having my plans changed. I do not like having to chase across the countryside like some besotted fool in pursuit of his ladylove. You have caused me a great deal of inconvenience, Sabrina."

Sabrina allowed a small smile of satisfaction to curve her lips. "Good, and no less the amount of trouble you have caused me, Your Grace," she said insolently.

They stood staring at each other silently for a minute, neither moving until Sabrina finally broke the silence. "I will not marry you, Lucien."

Lucien smiled cynically. "You think not? It has gone past what either of us desires. We will be wed, Sabrina, that I promise you."

Sabrina stamped her foot angrily. "Damn you, why
the .
devil
won't you leave me alone?"

"Careful, Sabrina, your highwayman's manners—or lack of them—are showing."

Sabrina raised her arm swiftly, and before he could react she had slapped him hard across his scarred cheek, the contact sounding like thunder in the stunned silence.

Without stopping to think, Lucien slapped her back, reacting in the heat of anger and an instant's uncontrollable rage. Sabrina's head jerked back with the force of his hand, and the imprinted outline of his fingers stained her white cheek vividly in angry red marks. Huge tears rolled down her face as she put the back of her hand to her trembling mouth, her eyes staring at him dazedly. With a cry she hurled herself onto the bed, hiding her mortified face in the soft, cool pillows, her velvet robe spreading out like a fan on the quilted coverlet as she lay shaking on the bed.

She felt the bed sag as Lucien sat down beside her, and the next instant he had her in his arms, his lips caressing the weals on her cheek soothingly.

"All I want to do is kiss you, and I end up hurting you," he whispered thickly, passion and remorse intermingled in his voice. His mouth closed over hers, pressing against her lips until they parted and he kissed her deeply and thoroughly. She felt his lips move along the arch of her throat and shoulders, the scent of him filling her senses.

His body was heavy against hers as his hands twisted into the thick strands of her hair, holding her face next to his as he rubbed his scarred cheek against the cheek he'd slapped.

"I was as mad as hell when I first came into your room, and now all I want to do is make love to you, revenge forgotten while I hold you so close in my arms and kiss that sweet mouth," he murmured as he found her mouth again and kissed her hungrily, his hands sliding beneath the soft velvet of her robe and cupping her breasts.

Sabrina pulled her mouth free, trying to turn her face from his eager lips. "You cannot seduce me again, Lucien," she whispered tearfully.

Lucien gave a low laugh. "You act so cool, but I think you cannot resist my kisses. You want me, Sabrina," he said confidently, pulling her warm body closer.

"No, I don't," Sabrina denied. "I do not blame you for believing that. I did try to seduce you that first night," Sabrina admitted, "but things have changed since then. It was one night only, Lucien. I know what you are and what you are like, and I do not love you. You are mean, cruel and selfish, and I will not be your pawn in whatever games you intend to play."

Lucien stared down into her defiant face, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright with tears.
"Bravely spoken, little one, but quite useless.
We will be wed, so why not make the best of it? You will have all the money your heart could desire, a grand home, and"—he paused, giving her a bold glance—"you will have an attentive husband, which is more than most women have. You will not be lonely, Sabrina, that I can promise you." He smiled and placed a light kiss on her reddened mouth.

"And how long will you desire me, Lucien? How long will I be able to amuse you, for that is all
I
am for
you.
A new diversion, something to play with for awhile.
Then what happens when you tire of me?"

"When we tire of one another you may feel free to take a lover, as long as you are discreet," Lucien allowed generously.

Sabrina gave a sob and pushed him from her frantically. "Leave me alone! Just get out of my life, Lucien.
I
hate you!" she cried.

"No you don't, you—" Lucien began, pulling her back to him determinedly when they were startled by the loud report of a pistol.
Lucien rolled on top of Sabrina to protect her and looked over his shoulder, only to see a figure flying at him. He caught it as it hurled itself at him, fists swinging as they tried to make contact with his face.

"Leave my sister alone! I'll kill you!" Richard cried as he took a swing that barely missed Lucien's nose.

Lucien caught the young firebrand's wrists with one hand and moving from Sabrina's huddled form, managed to capture the boy's kicking feet between his knees. The figure struggled ineffectively for a moment before quieting.

"Let me go!" a childish voice ordered.

Lucien grabbed a fistful of red hair and raised the hidden face into view off his chest. Two angry blue eyes behind round lenses glared up at him. The little boy's stock was crumpled and he'd lost a shoe in the scuffle as well as a stocking that was partially unrolled down his calf.

Lucien returned the young boy's stare grimly. "From his manners I would hazard a guess that this pup is a relation."

Sabrina pulled herself up from the tumbled bedclothes and looked in amazement at Richard locked between Lucien's legs, his face red with anger and wet with tears as he tried to worm his way free.

"Richard!" Sabrina cried, trying to release him from Lucien's bold. "Let him go. He's my brother," Sabrina told Lucien as she pulled ineffectively at his wrist. Her dressing gown had fallen open and the lace at her breasts fluttered with her heavy breathing as she confronted the blazing sherry eyes above her.
"If you've hurt him!"

"Hurt this little brawler?" Lucien demanded incredulously. "If he were not such a poor shot, your knight-errant here would have killed us both."

"I
wouldn't hurt Rina!" Richard cried. "You were being
mean
to her. You made her cry, I heard you, and she said she hated you!" Richard defended himself with childish logic. "I'd never hurt Rina," he repeated tearfully.

A scuffling of feet caused them to look up as Mary, followed by Sims and a couple of footmen, Hobbs with a poker and the cook with a rolling pin, all fell into the room, their faces mirroring astonishment and consternation as they stared at the three people in the bed.

Mary was the first to reach them, her voice trembling with fear. "What has happened?" Her face was white as the sheets as her gray eyes searched the bed for any sign of blood.

Sabrina pulled her robe together and pushing a thick wave of hair out of her eyes looked up at the dismayed faces surrounding the big bed. "Richard was showing Lucien his new pistol and it accidentally discharged. Fortunately no one was hurt." Sabrina smiled stiffly. "I appreciate your concern, but everything is fine, truly."