Moonstruck Madness (43 page)

Lucien stared at her, pity and disgust showing in his eyes. Kate saw it and laughed derisively. "Don't pity me! I don't want it. We don't need it. Percy, look at me, it'll be all right. Percy?" she cajoled lovingly, caressing his neck.

Percy raised his head and stared through swollen eyes into her face, unable to hide the shocked revulsion he felt as he stared at her destroyed beauty. Kate sensed his shocked withdrawal and felt as if a knife had gone into her heart, then closed her eyes and let her tears of pain and anguish mingle with her blood.

Lucien left them in the doctor's hands and made his way from the room. He sought no more punishment for them. They would have to live with what had happened for the rest of their lives. Percy had worshipped Kate's beauty as an extension of himself, and Kate herself had used her beauty from the first time she'd been aware of it. What would they do now?

Lucien shook himself free of that nightmare as he rode back to Verrick House. What, he wondered, would await him there? A pity Kate and Percy did not realize that their mischief had indeed done irreparable harm.

Sabrina had remembered. Remembered the hate and the old distrust she'd harbored against him—and the reason for their marriage. It was a pity, for he had been allowed to see a side of her he'd not known before, and he had found he liked it and enjoyed having her play the adoring lover.

A pity she had to remember, but it changed nothing as far as he was concerned.

"Lies!
All lies!" Sabrina confronted Mary angrily. "And you, my own sister, turning against me. How could you, Mary?" she asked, her violet eyes showing deep hurt and disappointment.

Mary linked her fingers together tightly, her gray eyes wandering about the room rather than look into Sabrina's. "What would you have had me do? You'd forgotten everything, Rina. You didn't remember Lucien at all. You forgot all of the years of worry and danger. Why should I try and force you to remember? You were so young again—so free of all cares. And, the most important detail, the thing you've seemed to have forgotten once again, is that you are going to have Lucien's baby."

"Why do you have to remind me of that?" Sabrina asked despondently, pulling off her hat and shrugging out of her riding jacket.

"Because it will be all too evident before long," Mary stated calmly, then watching impatiently as Sabrina dabbed at her swollen lip, cried, "Well, aren't you going to tell me what has happened? I can't believe that Lucien would have hit you. Why have you remembered everything suddenly?" Mary demanded in confusion. "Lucien has been so kind these last few weeks. Was it only an act? I can't understand?"

Sabrina turned from the mirror. "Are you just now finding out how ruthless Lucien really can be when he wants something? Of course he's been pleasant. He's had his way. I've been the acquiescent, loving bride. Lucien gets his inheritance and a lover all at once. To think that I believed him! He must have laughed at me each time I said I loved him. I'll never forgive him. Never! Do you hear?" Sabrina cried, "I wish those highwaymen had killed him."

"Highwaymen?
Someone attacked you and Lucien?" Mary asked incredulously.

Sabrina laughed, showing a flicker of amusement in her eyes as she explained. "You can imagine my surprise to see Bonnie Charlie riding down on us. Seeing that familiar figure was enough to jolt my memory, and everything came flooding back. Then they started fighting, and Will and John miraculously showed up, and then all hell broke loose."

Mary was suddenly reminded of the vision she'd had about Sabrina and Bonnie Charlie, and Lucien in danger.

It had come true, then. "If those two showed up, then
I
don't doubt the outcome of the fight," Mary commented.

"No doubt at all, although Lucien took a bit of
a
beating before Will and John showed up," Sabrina said without emotion.

"What happens now?" Mary asked, dreading the answer.

Sabrina raised her chin imperiously, looking at her coldly.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing."

Mary regarded her suspiciously. "And what does 'absolutely nothing' imply?"

Sabrina smiled unpleasantly. "The Duke wanted a wife, and he now has one, so I shall enjoy my reign as the Duchess of Camareigh. And I shall live the part, Mary. After all, His Grace is rich. I just hope he will be able to afford me, for as a Duchess, I shall have a Duchess's expensive tastes," she informed Mary with a vengeful gleam in her violet eyes.

Ay me!
for
aught that
I could
ever read,

Could hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth.

Shakespeare

Chapter
14

SABRINA stared out of the window across the parkland to the medieval chapel protected by cedars on the far side of the lake, and wondered at the fate that had brought her here to become mistress of this grandeur. To visit Camareigh was an awe-inspiring experience, but to live here was to be humbled. Her first view of Camareigh had been from the coach window as they had traveled down the terraced avenue flanked by chestnuts, past formal lawns and wooded slopes until Camareigh, with its noble facade and stately lines, had appeared almost magically out of the mists. She had counted over sixty windows alone along the east wing. The warm, honey-colored stone blended into the countryside as though it had stood upon sacred ground from the beginning of time in an undisturbed magnificence.

Now, through no wish
of her own,
all of this was hers. She had the right to walk in the topiary gardens and through yew-hedged walks to sunken gardens with hidden pools full of colorful water lilies.

It was a perfect, and appropriate, setting for Lucien Dominick, Duke of Camareigh. She could understand now the reason why he was so desperate to inherit his home, but she still could not forgive him for using her as a means to an end. He had wanted Camareigh, and nothing could have stood in his way to hinder him.

Sabrina thought of the elegance of the gold and white drawing room and the long gallery hung with beautiful paintings and portraits of the Dominick family; the great staircase painted with murals, the tall pier-glasses reflecting the hand-painted wallpaper in the salons, the plastered ceilings and tapestry-hung walls. It was undeniably beautiful—but she missed Verrick House. She missed the old, oak-paneled rooms and low-beamed ceilings, the crumbling walls of the garden and orchard, and the casual untidiness of the flowers. Sometimes life at Verrick House seemed like a dream, something that had never really existed.

Aunt Margaret was the only one who still lived there with Hobbs as her companion. Mary had wed Colonel Fletcher towards the end of the year. He was a civilian now, and enjoyed playing the country squire for a change and living a quiet life on his estate. Sabrina smiled as she thought of Richard, who had gone through the most startling changes during the past year. He had lost a lot of his shyness and sedateness and replaced them instead with a young boy's natural exuberance and proclivity for mischief. The only thing that bothered her was the constant tug-of-war on Richard's emotions as he tried to remain loyal to her and at the same time resist his idolatry for Lucien, who represented the first father figure he had ever known. Sabrina had tried not to influence him, but he could not help but become aware of the state of affairs that existed between Lucien and her. She supposed that she was to blame for it all. Her cursed pride had blinded her to the truth for so long, but as the months had passed it had become increasingly hard to find the words to heal their differences.

How angry she had been when she'd first regained her memory, lashing out at Lucien for tricking her and playing her for the fool, or so she had believed at the time. Now that she thought back on those days she could see all of the mistakes that she had made. The first time she had sat before this window staring out, Lucien had entered the room behind her and at his words she had begun her plan of action. How vivid the past became as she remembered that day.

"Plotting my demise?" Lucien had inquired as he'd found her sitting there with a frown marring her face.

"You are quite capable of doing that yourself," she retorted, not bothering to look at him as he came towards her.

"A pity you remembered."

Sabrina smiled, and looking up at him thought he was like a small boy who'd been denied his favorite toy to play with. "Isn't it enough that you have your estate safely in your grasp?"

"I suppose I can't have everything my way," he returned regretfully, "although as I've said, it is a shame you had to go and remember your dislike of me."

He bent down and let his lips touch the nape of her neck, lingering for a moment against its softness. "I've fond memories of you, Rina," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Sabrina stood up, moving out of reach of his lips, her violet eyes cold as she glanced at him scornfully. "As you've said, a pity, but then you really can't have everything."

Lucien smiled. "I can try."

Sabrina's eyes widened in momentary fear at the implied threat in his words.
"It won't be easy," she warned him.

"I never imagined marriage to you would be easy, Sabrina. I could have told you that the first time I saw you swaggering my way."

"You should have taken heed of your warning, Lucien, for
you've
taken on more then you bargained for."

"Quite, but then I've always enjoyed a good fight, Sabrina," Lucien answered smoothly, "
which
reminds me, we've an invitation to Berkeley Square. The Dowager Duchess wished to meet my blushing bride, so we'll be leaving for London in the morning. Maybe it's just as well we're to be amongst people, or I might be tempted to teach you a few lessons."

A few days later in London, Sabrina met Lucien's grandmother, the Dowager Duchess. Sabrina dressed for the occasion with special care, wearing a midnight-blue sacque gown, the pleats in back flowing free and disguising her thickening waistline. It was embroidered across the bodice in gold, with three lacy white flounces below the tight sleeves that matched her petticoat. Wrapped in
a
matching blue velvet cloak, as the days were cooler now that autumn had arrived, Sabrina sat nervously in the salon waiting for the majordomo to announce them, glancing curiously at Lucien's unconcerned figure every so often, puzzled by the slight smile on his lips as he played with a deck of cards.

"I hardly think you've time for that," Sabrina commented as she watched him shuffle expertly.

Lucien looked up in boredom. "You think not?"

Twenty minutes later they still remained in the salon. Lucien glanced up in amusement as Sabrina sighed in annoyance. "You will become used to Grandmere's little games, Sabrina. You must learn patience."

Sabrina glowered at him. "You obviously take after her."

Lucien laughed. "Actually, I was just thinking how alike the two of you are. I think this shall be a very interesting meeting."

He was wrong, Sabrina thought later as she sat facing the Dowager Duchess. She was not like this imperious old woman whose jeweled hands had held the reins on Lucien for so long, and was still hesitant to release him.

"So, you are the new Duchess of Camareigh? You seem a bit small to hold such a powerful and esteemed position, child," the Duchess commented.

"Have you not learned, Your Grace, that size is not indicative of strength?" Sabrina returned boldly, her violet eyes challenging the faded sherry eyes so like Lucien's.

The Duchess sat silently for a moment,
then
chuckled in satisfaction. "Indeed, child, and it would seem you make up for your lack of size with spirit."

She looked at the smiling Lucien archly. "How did you catch her, my boy? For unless my eyes are failing me, she's been looking daggers at you since you came in here."

"You left me little choice in the matter, Grandmere, so as I was short of time, I saw to it that her reputation was ruined, and no one but me to wed her," he explained audaciously, .while Sabrina seethed inwardly at his mocking face.

"I do not know whether to believe you or not, but knowing your reputation I would not doubt it. However, it bodes ill for any future heirs if you are hardly on speaking terms."

"Oh, I do not think you need fear that, Grandmere, for we have not always been at each other's throats," he reassured her as Sabrina blushed scarlet and shot
a
murderous look at Lucien's cool profile.

The Duchess looked between the two in amazement, her eyes glowing with pleasure. "I knew I could place my faith in you, Lucien. You may be obstinate, but you've never let me down." She gazed at Sabrina's set features with pleasure. "You will give us an heir, and so soon! I feared of dying before I saw Camareigh's future secured."

"I could always have a daughter," Sabrina replied firmly.

Lucien laughed at the Duchess's surprised face. "And she most probably shall. Never have I met such an obstinate chit as Sabrina."

"I can see you shall have your hands full managing your Duchess, Lucien, for once she has defied you and gotten away with it, you will never have complete control of her again—unless she wishes it, of course," the Dowager Duchess advised with a glint in her eye.

"Defy me?" Lucien asked incredulously, giving Sabrina
a
sardonic glance. "She wouldn't think of doing such
a
thing, would you, Sabrina, my love?"

Sabrina clenched her hands beneath the folds of her gown. "Think of defying you, Lucien," she said with
a
sweet smile. "Why, I've never given it a thought—I just do it."

Lucien held up his hands in surrender. "You see, Grand-mere, I haven't a chance."

The Dowager Duchess nodded her head thoughtfully. "You may not believe it now, for obviously the angers are still burning hotly, but some day this will be a good marriage. You take my word for it. You both have spirit and passionate natures, but my only worry is that you will kill each other off first. Please don't, at least not until after the birth of my great-grandson."

"Never fear, Grandmere, Sabrina is a survivor. She may look delicate and demure, but don't let her refined demeanor fool you, she's as tough as leather beneath her velvet and lace."

The Duchess smiled, thoroughly enjoying herself. "So, you will stay to tea, and then you may leave," the Dowager Duchess ordered as she rang for the majordomo.

Lucien leaned close to Sabrina. "You have been approved of and should feel complimented. Grandmere seldom if ever invites someone to stay for tea. Even I have been seldom honored with the privilege," Lucien murmured.

"That is because you have seldom pleased me," the Dowager Duchess retorted, catching his words, "but you have now, by making this little one your wife and making me a great-grandmother."

"It was my pleasure, Grandmere," Lucien said softly, his eyes lingering on Sabrina's parted mouth.

"Odd, isn't it," the Duchess said, suddenly remembering the letter she had received yesterday, "about Percy and his family—and Kate—leaving London in the middle of the night like thieves and disappearing somewhere on the continent? It's quite extraordinary." She looked to Lucien questioningly. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about it?"

Lucien rubbed his scar absently as he sought an answer. "No, Percy and I were never too close, Grandmere, so I really know nothing of his affairs, except that he has sold all of his holdings, including their London house. It would seem as though they intended a prolonged stay on the continent."

"Hmmm, most strange.
However, I imagine when you inherited Camareigh and Percy and Kate knew there was no longer any hope of inheriting, they decided a change of scene would be best. I know they would find your good fortune hard to bear."

"I suppose you are right, Grandmere," Lucien replied.

The Duchess tapped her cane thoughtfully. "What really has me puzzled, however, is this letter that I received. It is from Percy's wife, Lady Anne, and it would seem as though she has taken command of the whole family. The little mouse has at last found her voice. She says that Kate is quite ill, and never leaves her room, and that Percy drinks himself to sleep each night. I am completely baffled by the whole situation," the Duchess speculated with a frown.

Lucien remained silent, sipping his tea and giving a prolonged study to the plate of cakes before selecting one. Sabrina saw the twitch of his scar and knew from past experience that he was disturbed by something, but he obviously preferred to keep it to himself, for when he glanced up his face was free of expression.

Other memories came flooding back to Sabrina as she thought of the time Lucien had entered her bedchamber while she was dressing, only to find it crowded with people. Chairs and tables had been crowded with bolts of colorful silks and velvets, partially unwound for her inspection by eager dressmakers, while her hairdresser combed her hair into curls, and musicians strummed a melancholy tune in the corner. Her dancing master was impatiently waiting his turn for her undivided attention. Several of her admirers had breakfasted with her and were now volunteering suggestions as to which gown would be most becoming to her dark coloring.