No Decent Gentleman (7 page)

"But you are not imposters," the duke said, apparently confused by her remark.

"She means people will not accept them because they are adopted," Adam explained.

"That is utter nonsense," the duke said.

"Courtney and I are bastards," Sabrina said in a voice raw with anguish. "Papa told us that our natural parents never married."

"Do
not
ever let me hear you describe yourself like that again," Uncle Charles said in a stern voice.

"Darling, I can guarantee that you will be hugely successful in society," Belladonna added.

"You cannot predict the future," Sabrina replied.

"Trust me, darling," Belladonna said. "I know exactly what I am doing. Society will know how much your father valued you.... So, what do you say to it?"

Sabrina looked at her sister, who gave her an encouraging smile. "Very well," she relented. "But breaking mourning troubles me."

A knock on the door drew their attention. Forbes stepped inside and in a low voice said, "Lord Briggs is here to see you."

"Don't bother to announce me, Forbes," Edgar said, brushing past the majordomo. "Abingdon Manor is more home to me than my own estate."

Smiling broadly, Edgar Briggs walked across the drawing room toward Sabrina. He seemed indifferent to the fact that he'd arrived uninvited, and everyone was staring in silence at him.

"What are you doing here?" Sabrina asked, irritated and surprised by his arrival. "My dinner invitation was for tomorrow night."

"Yes, I know," Edgar replied. "I am on my way to visit a friend but decided to stop in to say hello. I miss you."

Sabrina felt a surge of relief that he wasn't staying, but then Courtney blurted out, "Sabrina is now the Countess of Abingdon."

"Your father gave you the title?" Edgar asked in surprise.

"Sabrina and I will make our coming-outs in London society this spring," Courtney continued excitedly in a loud voice, as if eager to spread the news.

The baron looked shocked. "You are in mourning."

Sabrina shrugged.

"Sabrina has no need for a coming-out," Briggs said, turning to the others. "She has an admirer here in Abingdon."

"Darling, a woman can never have too many admirers," Belladonna drawled.

"It is what Henry wanted for them," Aunt Tess added.

"If that is what Henry stipulated, then that is the way it will be," Edgar replied, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "By the way, what was in that codicil to the will?" he asked.

"Nothing of importance," Sabrina hedged, knowing he would propose marriage again. Edgar believed that only her father had blocked their marriage. Now she wished she had refused his suit without relying on her father.

Edgar nodded his head tentatively and then turned to Adam. "If the weather holds, my lord, would you care to go foxhunting?"

Adam's face remained expressionless, but there was an edge of contempt in his voice when he answered, "I never kill for sport."

"And what do you kill for, my lord?" Edgar asked.

"I kill only in self-defense," Adam answered.

The marquess's answer lightened Sabrina's mood. She despised the barbaric ritual of killing animals for pleasure. Certainly there must be other ways for the male of the species to amuse himself.

"Killing only for self-defense is a noble idea but decidedly out of fashion," Edgar was saying, obviously trying to anger the marquess.

"I have no need to impress others," Adam replied, giving the baron a stiff smile. "I leave that to the social climbers."

Sabrina's lightened mood vanished beneath the enmity between these two men. Lord, why couldn't people get along with each other?

"Social climbers?" Edgar echoed, his irritation obvious in his voice.

"You know, those unworthies who try to get ahead in life by clinging to their betters," Adam answered. This time the marquess's smile was infuriatingly sincere.

"Do you mean, for example, a baron who wishes to marry a countess?" Edgar challenged.

"I never said that."

"You were implying—"

"Edgar, it's time for you to leave," Sabrina interrupted, ending their verbal sparring.

"Will you walk with me to the foyer?"

Sabrina would have agreed to almost anything to get him out of the drawing room. She nodded once and rose from her perch on the sofa.

In silence, Edgar and Sabrina walked the length of the corridor to the main staircase and down one flight to the foyer. Forbes stood near the door, and when he saw them approaching, retrieved the baron's cloak.

Sabrina felt like laughing. It seemed that everyone, including Forbes, was anxious for the baron to be gone.

"Thank you for stopping by," Sabrina said when they reached the foyer.

"How can you agree to a coming-out when you are in mourning?" Edgar asked without preamble.

"My father's codicil stipulated that in the event of his death, he didn't want my and Courtney's coming-outs postponed," Sabrina answered. "I guarantee I won't enjoy myself."

"What about the possibility of forfeiture on the Savage estate?" Edgar continued.

"Prince Adolphus is going to arrange for me to keep the lands," Sabrina told him.

Edgar looked shocked. "Do you mean that a member of our royal family will condone breaking the law of this land?"

Sabrina narrowed her gaze on him. "Do you want me to lose the land?"

"No, of course not. I am merely disappointed that I will not be rescuing you." Edgar lifted her hand to his lips, saying, "Marry me, Sabrina."

"How can you ask that when you failed to take my side against the vicar?" Sabrina asked, yanking her hand back. She knew that evading the marriage issue was cowardly, but she didn't have the strength for another stressful confrontation. In a few days she would tell him that marriage was out of the question.

"I've apologized for that," Edgar reminded her in an accusing voice. "You said you forgave me. I've given you my heart, and now you are trampling upon it. Are you developing an interest in the marquess?"

Sabrina felt the rising tide of irritation surging through her. If he truly cared about her, why was he making life so difficult? Steeling herself against him, she lifted her chin a notch and ordered, "Leave Abingdon Manor, and do not return until you are thinking clearly."

The look he gave her was one of barely suppressed anger. Sabrina stepped back a pace.

Without another word, Edgar walked the short distance to the front door. As he passed the majordomo, Forbes said, "Have a good evening, my lord."

Sabrina sighed with a mixture of relief and remorse as the door clicked shut behind the baron. She disliked being so harsh with her oldest friend, but with any luck, he wouldn't return until after she'd left for London.

Turning away from the door, Sabrina crossed the foyer to the main staircase. Slowly and wearily she climbed the stairs, but stopped short in surprise when she neared the second-floor landing. The marquess sat in the shadows on the top stair.

"You've been eavesdropping again," she accused him.

"I couldn't help but overhear." Adam grinned un-repentantly and then added, "The baron appears to be in ill humor. Do you think he's having digestive problems?"

"Stop spying on me," Sabrina ordered, her voice raised. She brushed past him, but instead of returning to the drawing room, she raced up another flight of stairs to the third floor.

Sabrina burst into her bedchamber and surrendered to the overpowering urge to slam the door. Good Lord, she felt like baking all night, but didn't think there was enough flour in the cupboard to calm her rioting nerves. A week ago her life had been proceeding steadily and peacefully; now she felt like she'd been trapped on the road to—to where?

Sabrina dropped into the chair in front of the hearth and breathed deeply trying to calm herself as she had done the day of her father's death. She was as unsuccessful now as she had been then.

How dare the marquess meddle in her relationship with Edgar! Yes, he had offered to aid her in clearing her father's good name, but that did not give him the right to—

A knock on the door drew her attention.

"Who is it?" she snapped, certain the marquess was standing in the corridor.

"His Grace requires your immediate presence in the study," Forbes told her.

"Thank you, Forbes. I'll be right along."

A few minutes later Sabrina paused outside the closed study door and wondered what Uncle Charles wanted. Had he forgotten some important detail concerning her father's will? Or did he intend to scold her for yelling at his nephew?

Without bothering to knock, Sabrina opened the door and stepped inside. The first person she saw was the marquess sitting in one of the two chairs in front of her father's desk. The duke was sitting behind the desk. Both men stood when they saw her.

"You wanted to see me, Uncle Charles?" Sabrina asked, ignoring the marquess.

"Yes, child," the duke said. "Please sit down."

Sabrina marched across the chamber to the desk as the two men sat down again. "I'll stand," she said, casting the marquess a sidelong glance.

"I really think you ought to sit," the duke said.

"Just tell her," Adam said.

A bolt of apprehension shot through her. Sabrina looked at him and then at the duke. "Tell me what?" she asked.

The duke glanced at the marquess, who said, "Give her the short version."

"Sabrina, dear child, continuing your intimate friendship with the baron is ill-advised," the duke said, shifting his gaze to her. "You can never become betrothed to Baron Briggs or any other man because you are already betrothed to my nephew."

Sabrina stared back at him in shock.

"Are you ill?" Adam asked, starting to rise.

"Keep your distance," Sabrina cried. She fixed her gaze on the duke and said, "I don't believe you. My father never told me any such thing."

"Henry died so suddenly," the duke said. "I'm certain he meant to tell you when he deemed the time was right. Here is the contract."

Sabrina stared at the marriage contract. It had been negotiated fifteen years earlier when she'd been a child of three.

"Is that your father's signature at the bottom?" the duke asked.

"It appears to be his, but it could be a good forgery," she replied.

"Trust me, Princess," Adam said. "That is no forgery."

"Trust you?" Sabrina glared at him. "I hardly know you. How can I be sure you aren't a swindler in search of a wealthy wife?"

"I am ten thousand times wealthier than you," he said quietly.

"Adam is one of the wealthiest men in England," the duke interjected.

"Why do you wish to marry me?" Sabrina asked.

"I always keep my word," Adam told her. "I intend to honor the contract that I signed fifteen years ago. You come from an excellent family, and—"

"I am an adopted bastard," Sabrina said baldly.

"You have more nobility in your little ringer than any woman I've ever met," Adam told her. He lowered his voice, adding, "I admire your fearless loyalty. I admire the warmth and the respect you show others, whether they be servant or titled.... And I love the way you blush as you are doing now. You do remind me of a rare and beautiful rose."

Sabrina dropped into the vacant chair and stared at him in surprise. Caught by the intensity in his blue gaze, she felt the blush heating her cheeks, but at the same time, the husky intimacy in his voice sent shivers racing down her spine. How could this man, a virtual stranger, have such a profound effect on her?

The duke cleared his voice, drawing her attention. "Adam is willing to keep your betrothal a secret and allow you a London season."

"
Allow
me a London season?" His choice of words brought her anger rushing back. Sabrina couldn't credit what she was hearing. "Where do you get the gall to— How dare you aspire to
allow
me to do anything?"

Instead of responding in anger as she had expected, Adam said in a quiet voice, "Princess, listen to me for a moment."

Sabrina glared at him. When he hesitated to speak, she snapped, "Well, get on with it. I'm listening."

"Princess, your father chose me for your husband," Adam said. "However, I give you the choice to marry me or not at the end of your season. If there is another gentleman you prefer, I will gladly step aside, providing, of course, the gentleman in question is suitable. In return, you must promise to spend time with me each week so that we can become acquainted. Do we have a bargain?"

Sabrina refused to speak. Apparently the aristocratic scoundrel wasn't above blackmail.

"Either we have a bargain," he said in a much more determined voice, "or I'll drag you to the altar tonight."

He wasn't above threats, either. Sabrina didn't know what to do, but if she consented to his bargain, she would have time to find a way out of this sordid mess. "Yes, we have an agreement," she said finally. "On one condition," she added.

For some strange reason, her words brought a smile to his lips. His incredibly, wonderfully formed lips, she couldn't help noticing.

"And what is the condition?" he asked.

"You must clear my father's tarnished name," she answered.

Adam inclined his head. "I've already promised to help."

"Helping isn't good enough," Sabrina replied, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. "Either you clear my father's name of the taint of suicide, or I will not cooperate with you. Aunt Tess will help me repudiate that betrothal agreement."

"Our aunts have known about our betrothal since the day the contract was signed," Adam said, surprising her.

"My aunt knew about this and never told me?" Sabrina exclaimed, her green eyes flashing.

"I promise to salvage your father's reputation even if it takes ten years."

"That would be a rather long betrothal," Sabrina said, a cutting edge to her voice.

Ignoring her tone, Adam said, "Your sister can remain ignorant of our betrothal if that is your wish. The choice is yours."

Sabrina nodded, acknowledging that he'd spoken.

"Let's send Forbes for a bottle of champagne and toast the future," the duke suggested.