No Decent Gentleman (3 page)

"Do you remember becoming aggravated with me a few months ago because I'd borrowed your blue shawl without asking your permission first?" Courtney asked her.

"Yes."

"I never wore it," her sister admitted. "I took it from your chamber and folded it across my bed so that you would
believe
I'd worn it. As I recall, supper was heavenly that night."

Everyone laughed.

"Why didn't you simply ask me to prepare supper for you?"

"What makes your cooking special is the secret ingredient of anger," Courtney informed her. The seventeen-year-old dropped her gaze to the potted mushrooms and added forlornly, "Or sadness."

A glum silence descended over the table. Sabrina felt a lump of raw emotion forming in her throat. Fearing she would embarrass herself by weeping at the table, she shifted her gaze to the duke and said, "Uncle Charles, tell me about your friendship with my father."

"Prince Adolphus, your father, and I became close friends while at Eton," the duke began. "Prince Adolphus disliked having his own chamber so he moved his belongings into ours. The prince once brought his dog to school with him after holiday and was ordered to send the dog home. Dogs were strictly forbidden in the dormitory." Here the duke chuckled at the memory.

"What is so funny?" Sabrina asked.

"Adolphus brought his dog home, but returned with his pet bear," the duke told her, making them smile. "So the school administrators gave him permission to keep his dog instead of the bear. I swear, that dog weighed more than the Regent and absolutely adored your father. Tiny—that was the dog's name—insisted on sleeping with your father every night."

"I never heard that story," Sabrina said with a smile.

"Papa never mentioned that he and the prince were friends," Courtney added.

"Tell us another," Sabrina said.

"I'll mink about it tonight and come up with a story suitable for young maidens' ears," the duke told her.

"Sabrina, I must leave," the baron said, rising from his chair. "Will you walk with me to the foyer?"

"Excuse me," Sabrina said to the duke. "I'll return in a moment."

They walked in silence until they reached the foyer. It was then that Edgar Briggs grasped her forearm and warned, "Do not place your faith in the duke. You never met the man until today, and I fear he does not have your best interests at heart."

"And you do?" Sabrina asked.

"Do you doubt it?" he asked.

"The proof lies in a man's actions not in his words," Sabrina answered. "Tonight you sided with the vicar."

The baron tightened his lips in anger, but said nothing. When he moved to plant a kiss on her cheek, Sabrina stepped back and said, "I buried my father just a few hours ago. Please leave now."

"Grief rules your actions and words," Edgar said, walking out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Sabrina watched him leave and then turned to retrace her steps to the dining room. She stopped short when she spied the marquess standing in the shadow of the stairs, watching her.

"How long have you been there?" Sabrina asked. "Were you eavesdropping on me?" In the next instant she realized how rude she sounded and amended herself. "I'm sorry. Today has been terribly difficult, and Edgar has been no help."

"Are you and the baron betrothed?" Adam asked.

"Edgar and I have been friends forever," Sabrina told him.

"But there is something more than friendship between you," the marquess said.

"Edgar did offer for me," she said. "I am thankful my father refused his suit."

"Your father's disapproval did not disappoint you?" Adam asked.

Sabrina shook her head. "I would have felt as though I'd married a brother or a cousin, but I hadn't the heart to refuse Edgar's offer. My father saved me the trouble by refusing for me. I suppose that makes me a coward."

The marquess's blue eyes gleamed with amusement. "And what if your father had approved the match?"

"I knew there was no chance of that," Sabrina admitted. "In spite of the fact that my sister and I are adopted, my father planned to give us a season in London so that all of the realm's most important men could fall in love with us. That way we'd have our choice of whom we wished to many."

"Important men?" Adam echoed, giving her a boyish, thoroughly devastating grin. "You mean, a prince?"

Sabrina nodded. "Or a duke."

"How about a marquess?" Adam suggested, the intimate tone of his voice caressing her senses.

Precluding further conversation, the Duke of Kingston walked into the foyer with Aunt Tess and Courtney. "My nephew and I must also leave," he said, taking her hands in his, "but we will return with my sister tomorrow."

"There is a question I must ask you," Sabrina said, lowering her voice.

The duke gave her an expectant smile.

"My father adopted Courtney and me," she said. "Do you know where we came from?"

"Child, let us save this conversation for tomorrow," the duke replied.

Sabrina nodded. She'd waited eighteen years to learn the truth surrounding her birth. Waiting a few more hours certainly wouldn't kill her.

Aunt Tess and Courtney went directly upstairs after the duke and the marquess had taken their leave, but Sabrina knew sleep would elude her for some time that night. She stepped outside the front door and gazed up at the stars in the moonless sky. They appeared as lonely as she felt. She'd always longed to know who her natural parents were, but now there was something in her life more important than that knowledge.

"Papa, I will prove you innocent of suicide and see you buried in hallowed ground," Sabrina whispered. "Even if I must dance with the devil to do it."

Chapter 2

"Your frown could frighten the sin out of Satan."

Adam shifted his gaze from the passing scenery outside the coach's window to his aunt. "I beg your pardon?" he said, realizing he'd been caught daydreaming.

Lady Belladonna DeFaye smiled at him. A shade above forty, his aunt had broken many hearts in her day and was still a charming temptress to most older gentlemen who crossed her path. Auburn-haired, brown-eyed, and dimpled, Belladonna DeFaye retained the essence of youth.

Adam wondered briefly if his own mother still retained the essence of youth. He hadn't seen her in fifteen years, but she and Belladonna carried the St. Aubyn blood in their veins. In his mind Adam could only picture his mother as he'd last seen her; no amount of passing years could put wrinkles on her face or thicken her waist. She would always be the beautiful young woman who'd sent him away.

"Have you heard from your mother lately?" the duke asked, as if he'd read Adam's thoughts.

"Yes, both she and my brother are well."

"I cannot understand why your mother chose to remain in Istanbul when she could have returned to England," Belladonna said. "After all, your father is dead."

Adam sighed. He had explained his family's situation to her at least a hundred times, but his aunt refused to understand.

"At my brother's court in Istanbul, my mother is Sultana Valide, the most powerful woman in the empire," Adam told his aunt in a patient tone of voice, as if this was the first time he'd related the story.

"But she sent you, a prince in your own land, to live—"

"My mother sent me to England secretly," Adam interrupted, knowing full well what his aunt's next words would be. "My countrymen believe I died, otherwise my brother would have been forced to lock me up as the custom in my land demands. In olden days, he would have been required to execute me when my father died. There can be only one sultan. Eliminating all potential political rivals has kept the empire from crumbling beneath civil war."

Lady DeFaye shivered delicately and then smiled. "I understand now," she said.

Until the next time
, Adam thought.

"I will never understand why your mother chose to stay with your father after the promise of her release had been secured," Belladonna remarked.

"Perhaps she loved her husband," the duke interjected. "Contrary to your own experience, some women actually love their husbands."

"Oh, really, Charles," Belladonna drawled, clearly unamused. "I valued Francis until the day he died." Her smile was feline when she added, "Fortunately, his death was sooner rather than later. What I can't understand is how a woman could love her abductor."

"My father did not abduct my mother," Adam corrected his aunt.

"His minions did abduct her from the ship bound for France," Belladonna reminded him.

Adam shrugged. "Apparently, love can be found in the most unlikely places. Being abducted and given as a gift to the sultan was my mother's fate, as was falling in love with him."

At that, Adam turned his head to stare out the window. Where would he find his own love? he wondered. Was she waiting for him at Abingdon Manor?

"You are frowning again," Belladonna said. "How will you secure a wife if you walk through life frowning?"

"Most women are attracted more by a man's finances than by his smile," Adam replied. "Besides, I was thinking, not frowning."

"About what?"

"A business matter."

"Have I told you how delightful Henry Savage's daughters are, especially Sabrina?" the duke asked, turning to his sister.

"Several times," Belladonna drawled.

Adam gazed out the coach window and contemplated Sabrina Savage. She was a tare and marvelous creature. In his mind's eye, he conjured up her sweet expression, her delicate features emboldened by emerald eyes and hair the color of molten fire.

The lady's temperament was as fiery as the color of her hair. Adam recalled the way she had defied the vicar and dismissed the baron. He admired her loyalty to her father and felt like applauding her plucky spirit. As long as she never directed it at him, they would get along harmoniously.

How fortunate for the late Earl of Abingdon to possess a daughter who demonstrated her love and loyalty even to the brink of his grave. Adam only wished that someday he would possess a wife and children who would honor and love him so much that they would defy the world for him.

If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride, Adam thought sardonically. Sabrina Savage was an aberration in a world filled with untrustworthy women.

"Well, Adam, what do you think?" his uncle asked, intruding on his thoughts. "Shall I destroy those documents?"

"Sabrina Savage suits me," he answered simply without taking his gaze from the passing scenery. "I only hope that I suit her. Unlike my father, I would never coerce a lady into my bed."

"Take an old man's advice," his uncle said. "Proceed slowly and with caution."

"Of course you'll suit her. You're rich, aren't you?" Belladonna chuckled throatily and added, "A fiery temperament runs in that bloodline."

"Sabrina is adopted," Adam said, flicking a quick glance at her.

"Yes, I know," she replied with a feline smile.

"She knows?" Adam asked, turning to his uncle.

The Duke of Kingston shrugged. "Belladonna has known for years."

"You've known for years and haven't circulated that delicious bit of gossip?" Adam said, smiling. "Why, Aunt, I'm proud of you."

"It hasn't been easy," Belladonna complained. "That knowledge and my enforced silence have tormented me."

"I can well imagine the horror of it," Adam said, as he feigned a shiver of fear.

Belladonna burst out laughing. "Oh, Adam, what a tease you are. I wonder what the Countess of Rothbury will do when her marriage plans go awry."

"What marriage plans?" Adam asked.

"Do not play coy, darling," his aunt said. "I know that Alexis Carstairs is your mistress and hopes to be the Marchioness of Stonehurst."

"Dearest Aunt, if you should run out of money,
The Times
could use you as a reporter," Adam said.

Belladonna smiled at him and then glanced out the window. "Is that where they buried poor Henry?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," the duke answered.

Adam shifted his gaze to the crossroads as their coach passed by. Sagi and Abdul had left at dawn to get a few hours sleep. At twilight they would return to guard the late earl's grave until his decomposed body would be of no use to any Resurrection men in the area.

Soon their coach turned off the main road and began its journey to the mansion. Woodsmoke from the manor scented the air, and Adam smiled to himself. He couldn't help but wonder what Sabrina was cooking up.

And then Adam caught his first glimpse of Abingdon Manor in daylight. The mansion was an incongruous yet pleasing blend of architectural styles. The main house had obviously been built during Elizabethan times, but the mellow-red brick addition was definitely Jacobean.

Their arrival had been noted. Dressed in mourning black, the Savage sisters and their aunt stood beside the majordomo to greet them.

When his gaze fell on Sabrina, Adam suddenly wished to see her garbed in the most fashionable gowns and materials and colors that money could buy. Her luxuriant copper mane would be striking if set off by celestial blue or primrose or gold lame on gauze, velvet, or satin.

"Welcome to Abingdon Manor," Sabrina said in a soft voice, stepping forward to greet them.

With a smile lighting his expression, Adam reached out with one finger and wiped the spot of flour from the tip of her upturned nose. "Pardon my boldness," he said. "You've been baking."

"Lemon cookies," she said, returning his smile, a rosy blush staining her cheeks.

Adam stared into the most disarming green eyes he'd ever seen. If a man wasn't careful, he could drown in their fathomless depths. And then the exclamations from the two older women broke the spell Sabrina Savage had cast upon him.

"Belladonna," Aunt Tess was saying.

"Tess, darling," Belladonna replied, hugging the other woman.

"How many years has it been?" Tess asked. "Ten or twenty?"

"Not that many, darling," Belladonna told her. "Do not forget how young we are."

"Why it seems like only yesterday that we were making our coming-outs and being squired around London by all those dashing young men," Tess said.