Moonstruck Madness (44 page)

Sabrina had watched as Lucien had retreated from the noisy group, feeling somehow at a loss when his broad shoulders had disappeared through the door, leaving her surrounded by the gossiping ladies and beaux who had become her retinue. She didn't really like any of them. In fact, she rather despised the lot of them, and had only associated with their wild set to annoy Lucien. But he never seemed to become perturbed at anything she did. She sometimes thought that he mustn't care, and then she would catch a glint in the sherry eyes as he watched her at some antic, and would sense that he was keeping himself under control with an effort. Sometimes she almost wished that he would lose his temper. She wanted some reaction from him, and that was why she had been driven into acting the way she had and had received the reaction from Lucien she had sought—only she had not counted on it being quite so violent.

They had been invited to a masquerade ball and Sabrina had excitedly planned her costume as a Greek goddess, the draped material of her dress barely covering her, leaving her arms bare and clinging to her body with every movement. She had smiled with satisfaction when she had seen Lucien's expression as she had entered the salon, his eyes narrowing with anger as she stood boldly before him, her bare toes in their gold sandals peeking out at him.

"You might as well return to your room, madam, for you are not leaving this house dressed in that manner," he ordered her coldly.

"You think not?" Sabrina defied him, her violet eyes glowing.

"Yes, Sabrina, I do," Lucien answered softly, lookingaustere in his black velvet suit, preferring to wear only a domino as a disguise for the masquerade.

"You have never objected before, why now?" Sabrina demanded.

"Because you are my wife, the Duchess of Camareigh, and I will not have you disgrace your position," he answered haughtily.

Sabrina's cheeks flushed with anger. "Oh, yes, I must never forget the high position in society that I occupy, nor disgrace the Dominick name," she yelled at him.

Lucien grabbed Sabrina and shook her until her carefully coiffed hair tumbled down her back. "I will give you ten minutes to change into something else, Sabrina," he warned, and with that ultimatum turned his back on her.

Sabrina ran from the room tearfully and hurried up the grand staircase, slamming the door of her room behind her. She stood indecisively as she tried to calm down. Lucien would not ruin her evening, she decided with a devilish glint in her eye as a sudden thought struck her, and she searched through her drawers until she found what she was looking for.

Fifteen minutes later Sabrina raced into the salon afraid that Lucien would have left. He was gazing into the fire when she entered. "Shall we go?" she asked breathlessly.

Lucien looked up at the sound of her voice, catching his breath as he stared at Sabrina's masked face. "So, Bonnie Charlie has decided on one last appearance?" he commented smoothly, a gleam of reluctant appreciation in his eyes as he took in her breeches and boots and the sword hanging from her waist. "Very well, Sabrina, you will go to the masquerade in breeches. You will, no doubt, be the darling of the evening. I just hope none of your victims happen to be in attendance as well."

He had been right, of course, for she had caused a sensation that evening when it had been revealed that the small gentleman in velvet breeches was the Duchess of Camareigh.

Soon, however, the partying and excitement of London began to bore her, and as she advanced in her pregnancy, her social activities were brought to a close. Sabrina left London without regret to return to the tranquility of Camareigh to await the birth of her child. She had been surprised and hurt, although she did not show it, when Lucien allowed her to return to the country alone.

"I'm certain, as my presence seems to annoy and distress you, that you will be relieved to learn that I will not be accompanying you to Camareigh," Lucien had told her, his sherry eyes narrowed as he watched her reaction to his sudden decision.

But Sabrina was well used to hiding her true feelings and managed a nonchalant shrug. "As you
wish,
and I appreciate your consideration. For once you seem to be aware of my feelings," she had responded acidly, her violet eyes cold.

She had tried to assure herself that she truly was glad that Lucien would not be at Camareigh, but on the long coach ride she couldn't stop wondering what he was doing in London. She sighed in self-disgust, not knowing what she wanted. Her pride and anger still blocked her desires, for each time she looked at Lucien she felt her pulse quicken and had to admit that he still attracted her.

En route to Camareigh she had stopped at Verrick House to pick up the anxiously waiting Richard,
whose
new home would be with Sabrina, and also to attend Mary's wedding. Sabrina had felt a stab of envy as she had watched Mary, looking exquisitely lovely in a gown of silver tissue with a train six yards long that Sabrina had had created especially for her in London, walk down the aisle with orange blossoms in her red hair, her gray eyes glowing mistily with love as she stared up at Terence Fletcher. Lucien had appeared suddenly the morning of the wedding saying he had stopped only to wish them well, and left just as abruptly following the ceremony without explanation or farewell.

While at Verrick House Sabrina had paid a visit to Mrs. Taylor, leaving her a basket of oranges and lemons from the orangery at Camareigh.
It saddened her to sit in the little cottage and remember all of the other times she'd talked and laughed with Mrs. Taylor—only now it was different. She could feel Mrs. Taylor's nervousness as she tried to entertain her, but conscious of Sabrina's title she could not relax. John and Will hadn't changed, though, they were still the same joking friends as always, eager to see her and hear her news of London.

When she and Richard rode away from Verrick House she swallowed painfully, holding back the tears as her memories came flooding back to her.

The next months were spent quietly at Camareigh. The winter was cold and her figure that became rounder and heavier as the child grew within her kept them confined to the house. Lucien seldom visited, and when he did he seemed to Sabrina to spend all of his time with Richard, hardly ever sparing a glance for her, and she supposed he must be repulsed by her misshapen form.

When Christmas
arrived
Mary and Terence did too, bringing Aunt Margaret and Hobbs with them. Sabrina was amazed as she watched Lucien play the genial host, turning on the famous Dominick charm as he made their guests feel completely at home.

Sabrina caught herself thinking sometimes how their lives might have been had not all of the misunderstandings stood in the way. To have Lucien truly love her and care for her as he had when she had lost her memory. Only then it had just been a game with him, and now that he had what he wanted, both estate and heir, he was no longer interested in her.

Finally, as the long winter came to an end and the skies began to clear and show patches of blue, Sabrina knew that her time was near. She had felt for some time the curious movements of the baby. She had given a startled gasp of surprise the first time it had happened, and placing a tender hand on her abdomen she had experienced it again. She had looked up, her eyes glowing, only to surprise a look of longing on Lucien's face as he'd watched her. It had been quickly masked as he looked at her inquiringly.

Rhea Claire Dominick was born early in the morning, her lusty cry of surprise as she entered the world bringing a grateful smile of relief to Mary as she placed the child in Sabrina's arms.

"So," Lucien had said softly as he'd stared down at his wife and daughter, "you are defiant as ever, Sabrina."

Sabrina looked up with tired eyes, the glow in his giving her strength to reply. "I always shall be."

By May Sabrina was back to her normal activities, but she had no desire to return to London and the life she had been leading before the birth of Rhea.

The Dowager Duchess had made a rare visit to Camareigh to see her great-granddaughter despite her attitude of disappointment that it had not been a boy. She had showered gifts on the child and even held the tiny infant in her arms, her disapproving frown fading as Rhea chuckled up at her with her violet eyes. The Duchess had left, but with the admonition, "Next time I shall expect a boy."

Sabrina had smiled slightly, avoiding Lucien's eyes, unwilling to tell her that there would not be a next time.

Oddly enough it was not of
her own
doing that the final break between them occurred. In honor of his daughter's birth Lucien decided to have a ball, the first at Camareigh in many years. Guests arrived throughout the day and crowded into the salons and gardens under the warm sunshine. Many were her friends from London, but most were Lucien's. Sabrina found she liked Sir Jeremy Winters and his wife, and a few others, but the majority were of a rakish set and she resented their presence at Camareigh. She wanted to spend her time with Rhea and with Lucien, who since Rhea's birth had spent a great deal of time at Camareigh.

Sabrina had been surprised to see the Duke of Granston amongst the guests, but she supposed it would've been an insult to him not to have invited him. She was thankful now that Lucien had ruined her chances of marriage to him. He was quite as repulsive as ever, and surprised her by lingering at her side throughout the evening. Every so often she caught his pale eyes following her and shivered at the lecherous expression in them that he did not bother to conceal. The Duke of Granston had drunk too much as usual, becoming unruly shortly after two, and had to be led away by two sturdy footmen, so Sabrina had been surprised the following morning to find him beside her as she entered a belt of woodland on the estate. She slowed her -horse as he crowded close, cutting across her path, his horse barring the way.

"Good morning," Sabrina greeted him steadily, ignoring the smug smile on his fleshy face. "Is there something
I
can do for you?" she asked doubtfully.

"Now, now, Sabrina," he cajoled, moving his horse closer. "You don't mind if I call you that? After all, we could very easily have become man and wife, only Lucien was a step ahead of me as usual. Or should I say, a kiss ahead?" he laughed, his eyes on her lips suggestively.

"If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I do have other guests to see to," Sabrina said coldly, her chin lifted haughtily.

"Come on, little Sabrina, you have plenty of time for me. I am one of your most prestigious guests. You should be nice to
me,
I
don't care to be rebuffed."

"You will be more than rebuffed if you do not clear
a
path for me immediately," Sabrina warned him icily. "My husband would not take kindly to your bothering me, Your Grace."

The Duke of Granston laughed rudely. "Lucien? He's too busy elsewhere to care of your whereabouts. The Lady Sarah has him fully occupied, believe me. I saw them not fifteen minutes ago in the gardens. So," he whispered with a wink, "we have this little greenwood to ourselves, don't we, Sabrina? I was always regretful that we never formed a closer friendship, and then when you wed Lucien,
I
despaired. However, when Lucien returned to London
alone, leaving you here at Camareigh, and returned to his old pursuits, well, my dear, I was given new hope that we might come to an agreement after all."

Sabrina had never felt so humiliated and insulted in her life. "Get out of my way," she said hoarsely, her violet eyes blazing furiously.

"You're beautiful. Never have I seen such beauty," the Duke murmured and urged his horse closer, wedging Sabrina's mount against a tree. Sabrina tried to back her horse away but before she could move out of reach the Duke had made a grab for her, jerking her body into his arms. She tried to resist him as he lowered his hot mouth to hers and tried to kiss her,
then
felt a shudder of revulsion as his slobbering lips touched hers. With anger lending her strength she shoved against him, her brief surge of power catching him by surprise, and overbalanced, he fell from his saddle to land with a howl of pain in a patch of thorny brambles. Sabrina urged her horse through the bushes and clear of the woods, the echoes of the Duke of Granston's enraged curses following her across the fields.

When Sabrina returned to the house she found Lucien laughing with Lady Sarah in the salon while she acted the hostess and poured tea to a small group of people. Without a word Sabrina turned and made her way upstairs.

As Lucien caught sight of Sabrina's disheveled hat and blazing eyes he excused himself, despite Lady Sarah's pout, and followed Sabrina from the room.

Sabrina had pulled her hat from her head and thrown it down angrily on the bed, and was removing her jacket when Lucien walked into the room.