No Decent Gentleman (5 page)

Sabrina nodded. "Hawthorne also helps mend broken hearts."

"Will it
prevent
a broken heart?" the duke asked.

"You are teasing me," she said with a smile.

"Do you love Lord Briggs?"

The smile left Sabrina's face. "Adam asked me the same question, and I snapped at him."

"Oh, dear. You aren't going to snap at me, are you?" the duke asked, feigning fright. "I'll swoon dead away if you do."

"Then I shall try to control myself," Sabrina replied, unable to suppress a smile. "I wonder why Adam and you are so interested in my relationship with Edgar."

"I cannot speak for my nephew," the duke told her, "but I am merely curious and apologize for intruding in your personal life."

"Uncle Charles, you've done nothing that requires an apology," Sabrina assured him, shifting her emerald gaze to the hearth. She longed to question him about her origins, but feared the answer she might receive.

Summoning her courage, Sabrina looked the Duke of Kingston in the eye and asked, "Do you have any knowledge of who my natural parents were?"

"What did your father tell you about your origins?" the duke asked.

"After our adoptive mother died, he told Courtney and me that we are half sisters," Sabrina answered. "The same nobleman sired us. He also told me that a mutual friend of that nobleman and his delivered my sister and me to Abingdon Manor. Do you know the identity of either man?"

The duke shifted his gaze to the hearth and shook his head. "For your sake, child, I wish I did."

"After last night, I was so certain you knew something," Sabrina said, unable to keep the disappointment off her face.

"I'm sorry, child," he replied. "Prince Adolphus was also a good friend of your father's. When I return to London, I will ask him if he knows anything."

"Thank you, Uncle Charles," Sabrina said, managing a smile for him. "Father never mentioned that you and Prince Adolphus were his friends."

The duke shrugged. "I suppose he had his reasons, none of which are important. We corresponded, of course, and saw each other on his infrequent visits to London." Changing the subject abruptly, the duke asked, "What do you think of my nephew?"

Sabrina gave him a confused smile. How was she to answer that? She didn't really understand what he was asking.

"I don't know what you mean," she said after pausing for a long moment. "He behaves rather oddly for a marquess."

"In what way, child?"

"He tried to sit close beside me on the sofa," Sabrina told him.

The duke smiled. "Child, if I were Adam's age, I'd wish to sit close beside you on the sofa too."

Sabrina blushed and dropped her gaze to her hands, which were folded in her lap.

"Do you find him attractive?"

Startled by the question, Sabrina quickly looked up at the duke. "Yes, Adam is a handsome man."

"Except for that scar, of course."

"His scar gives his face more character," Sabrina replied. "How did he get it?"

"I'll let him tell you that story," the duke said. "I must admit, though, that my nephew is an oddity among the men of the ton. He's taken his inheritance and tripled it with his shipping business."

"He must be exceedingly intelligent," she remarked.

The duke cocked his head to one side and stared at her. "Do you like intelligent men?" he asked.

"I suppose they make better companions than stupid men," Sabrina answered, making him smile.

"I see that my questions are unwelcome and make you uncomfortable," the duke remarked.

"Oh, no ..."

"And you are kind enough to lie about it."

Sabrina smiled. "You have my permission to ask as many unwelcome questions as you want."

"Thank you, child," the duke said. "Run along now, and I'll see you later."

"Have a good rest, Uncle Charles," Sabrina said, rising from her chair.

Intending to steal a few moments for herself, Sabrina started down the corridor to her own chamber. She hadn't slept very much the previous night. In fact, she'd spent most of the night in the kitchen. Cooking and baking always made her feel better. She wondered briefly if great artists felt the same sense of accomplishment when their masterpieces were finished that she felt when she took a dish out of the oven.

"Lady Sabrina?"

She turned at the sound of the majordomo's voice. "Yes, Forbes?"

"The cart is waiting in the front drive. Would you like a couple of footmen to accompany you?"

Sabrina shook her head. Instead of entering her chamber, she walked down the corridor with him to the main staircase. "This task should be done with loving hands."

"I loved him too," Forbes said.

"I know you did," Sabrina said, "but I'd rather do this myself."

"What about Lady Courtney?" Forbes asked.

"If Courtney breaks down," Sabrina said, "then I will too."

Reaching the foyer, Forbes wrapped her black woolen cloak around her shoulders. Sabrina gave him a grateful smile and stepped outside. First she checked the contents of the pony cart and then allowed a groomsman to help her up.

"Lady Sabrina, I would like to accompany you," the groomsman said, passing her the reins.

"No, but thank you for offering," she replied. "My father would have appreciated your loyalty."

Sabrina pulled the hood of her cloak up to cover her head and then started the pony cart down the private lane that led to the main road. She drove half a mile down the main road until she reached the crossroads and then tugged on the reins to halt the pony. Climbing down, she looked inside the cart at the items she'd ordered—a spade, a white wooden cross to be used as a gravemarker, and a seasonal wreath made from holly and pine clippings.

Sabrina lifted the spade out of the cart and walked to her father's grave. Adam's servants were nowhere in sight. She supposed there was no need for them to guard her father's grave during daylight hours when there was no danger that Resurrection men would disturb it. She stood there for a long moment and stared down at the grave.

Within the year you will rest in hallowed ground
, Sabrina promised her father. Then she grasped the spade tightly and placed her booted foot on it in preparation for digging the shallow hole needed to secure the cross.

"I'll do that," said a voice behind her.

Sabrina whirled around. The Marquess of Stonehurst stood there towering over her. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his dark, imposing figure.

Dressed completely in black except for his stark white shirt, the marquess appeared more attractive than original sin. And infinitely more dangerous.

His midnight-black hair conspired with his piercing blue eyes to tempt any female who happened to cross his path. The thin facial scar that ran from the corner of his mouth to his right cheekbone lent him an aura of danger. The marquess was more handsome than Lucifer before the fall.

God shield me
, Sabrina thought. The devil is a gentleman.

"You needn't bother," she said, a high blush staining her cheeks. "I can manage."

He reached for the spade, saying, "I insist."

Sabrina inclined her head and passed him the spade. "How did you know I would be here?" she asked as he started digging.

"I was riding in the parkland and saw you leave," Adam told her. "I knew where you were headed."

"How could you possibly know?"

Adam paused in his digging and smiled at her. "Princess, I'm an excellent judge of character. I knew you wouldn't rest until your father's grave had a marker. I mean that as a compliment."

"Thank you."

Adam returned the spade to the cart and lifted the wooden cross, asking, "Why didn't your sister accompany you?"

"I didn't tell her," Sabrina admitted. "I feared she would break down."

Adam fixed his blue gaze on her. "And then you would break down and be unable to complete the task?"

Sabrina tore her gaze away from his and mumbled, "I suppose so."

Adam set the wooden cross into the hole and pushed down with all of his strength. "Please hold it steady while I anchor it," he said.

Sabrina stepped forward. With both hands, she kept the cross from wobbling until he'd refilled the hole and packed the dirt in place. Then she walked back to the cart and returned with the wreath.

After placing the wreath over the marker, Sabrina stared at her father's grave for a moment and then knelt to pray. When she'd finished, the marquess's hand was there to help her up.

"Thank you, my lord," Sabrina said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

"You are welcome."

"How will I ever repay your kindness?" she asked.

"Kindness is its own reward," he answered.

"An honorable sentiment, but hardly expected from a sophisticated aristocrat."

Adam grinned. "Why, Princess, do you doubt my goodwill? Even the irredeemably jaded have honorable moments. No man is wholly good or bad."

At that, Adam lifted her onto the cart and, after tying his horse's reins to the back of the cart, climbed up beside her. Taking control of the reins, he turned the cart around, and they started down the road toward Abingdon Manor.

"You didn't have anything carved on the grave-marker," Adam commented.

"I saw no need," Sabrina replied, flicking a sidelong glance at him. "My father won't be staying there permanently."

Ten minutes later, Adam halted the cart on the circular drive in front of Abingdon Manor. He leaped down first and then lifted Sabrina out. Together, they walked into the foyer.

"Thank you again," Sabrina said.

"You are welcome again."

Intending to rest before dinner, Sabrina crossed the foyer to the staircase. She started up, but then paused and turned around. The marquess still stood there, watching her.

"I forgive you for your boldness and prying into my personal affairs," Sabrina said without preamble.

"I appreciate your generous heart," Adam said, a devastating smile lighting his expression. "Thank you for not slamming the study door this afternoon."

"Which you expected me to do?" Sabrina asked.

"I'll see you at dinner," Adam said, ignoring her question.

Sabrina turned and hurried up the stairs. She never looked back, yet she could feel his piercing gaze upon her until she vanished from sight.

How did he manage to confound her? Sabrina wondered, reaching the refuge of her own chamber. The marquess exasperated and attracted her at the same time. Being that handsome should be forbidden by law.

Chapter 3

Holy hemlock
, Sabrina thought in surprised dismay, pausing in the threshold of the drawing room. She'd come downstairs to join the others for dinner, but only the marquess stood in front of the hearth. Where were the others? Was she expected to spend the evening alone with the marquess? What would they talk about? She had no experience in entertaining gentlemen. Edgar didn't count; she'd known him forever.

Unaware of her presence, Adam stood with his back turned to her, and Sabrina let her gaze drift down his body. He wore a black waistcoat with a white shirt and black tight-fitting trousers.

Lord, but the marquess was the perfect image of a well-bred aristocrat. The only things missing from this perfect picture were the requisite snifter of brandy and the monocle, fashionable affectations of those in his social position.

Adam turned around suddenly, as if feeling her interested gaze upon him. "I was beginning to think I would be dining alone," he said, giving her an easy smile.

Sabrina smiled as she walked across the room toward him. "Would you care for a brandy?" she asked, an imp entering her soul. "Or wine? A Madeira, perhaps?"

"Drinks are never served before dinner," Adam told her, amusement lighting his blue eyes. "Wine is served with the food, and gentlemen drink their brandies after leaving the ladies."

"I knew that," Sabrina said, a blush staining her cheeks. "I offered because we seem to be waiting for the others."

"Uncle Charles won't be joining us tonight," he told her.

"What about Lady DeFaye and Aunt Tess?" she asked.

Adam shook his head. "Your aunt pleaded a headache, and my aunt decided to keep her company." He smiled then and added, "Though, I do believe that my aunt is the source of your aunt's headache."

Sabrina felt her confidence waning. "My sister should be along any moment now."

"Lady Courtney sent her regrets," Adam said. "She's also suffering with the headache."

"My sister has never had a headache in her life," Sabrina exclaimed, becoming suspicious. The whole household seemed to be conspiring in an effort to get her alone with the marquess.

"Your sister has never before listened to our aunts babble on endlessly about the good old days," Adam said with a boyish smile.

"She might need my assistance," Sabrina said, anxious to be away. "Will you excuse me?"

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Forbes has taken care of your sister's headache," Adam informed her. "He mentioned taking her a cup of your chamomile tea."

Hemlock would cure her for good
, Sabrina thought, annoyed by her sister's desertion.
Or perhaps a dram of henbane
.

"Shall we go down to dinner?" Adam asked.

Sabrina stared at him in growing panic. What reason could she use to avoid being alone with him?

"Are you ill?" he asked, with concern etched across his features. "You're quite pale."

"Pale complexions are the curse of redheads," Sabrina said, managing a smile.

"For a moment I thought I would be dining alone," Adam said, and then gave her a devastating smile. "Life's pleasures are more enjoyable when shared with another."

Sabrina accepted his offered arm to walk downstairs to the dining room. "What other activities are better done with another?" she asked, seizing on his words as a topic of conversation.

He was smiling again. She noted that as soon as the last word slipped from her lips.

"There's always church service," Sabrina rambled on, "but I do not consider that to be one of life's pleasures."

Adam chuckled. "Spoken like a woman who has just quarreled with the vicar."