Undeniable Rogue (The Rogues Club Book One) (38 page)

“My bachelor accommodation at Stephens Hotel on Bond Street is not fit for you and the boys,” Hawksworth said when she revealed her plan to leave. “But you can go to my townhouse. It is for sale, I have learned, but still mine, I believe. Alexandra is not there, I understand, though she would welcome you, if she were. If you truly wish to leave Stanthorpe,” Hawksworth qualified. “Which is not what I have been hearing.”

“What do you perceive you have been hearing?”

“That you have no choice but to leave, except that you look as if you would just as soon stay.” He smiled grimly. “Not to mention the way Stanthorpe looked when we left him. Why did we abandon him, like that, by the way? And after he saved Rafe’s life?”

“What do you mean about the way Gideon looked?”

“Broken, is the way he appeared to me, as if he had lost his best friend … or his only love.”

Another sob escaped her, and Sabrina turned away. “Ah, Hawk, what did you do to me, giving me to him, of all men?”

“Why? What do you find so bad in Stanthorpe?” Hawksworth turned Sabrina’s gaze back toward him with a finger to her chin. “Can you not bear to look at my scars, Sabrina? Or can you not look me in the eye and say you do not love your husband?”

Sabrina raised her chin. “It is your scars,” she lied, and then she wept in earnest, because he had winked, even as she said it. But despite his attempt at levity, she had had a glimpse of the agony deep inside him. She took to crying in earnest then, and Hawksworth held her in his arms as she did. If she could not bear the destruction of her dearest friend’s legendary perfection, how then could he?

Sabrina wept for them both, for her children’s loss of a father, for Gideon, himself, and for her, because she would love and mourn Gideon, forever. Hawksworth, she suspected, wept as well, and they consoled each other.

Gideon stepped into the foyer, with Doggett and Waredraper, and found his wife and her lover thus, clutching each other as if they would never let go. They were so wrapped up in their quiet embrace, Gideon brooded, that they did not even notice her invalid husband’s tardy return.

Gideon slapped Hawksworth briskly on the back, as he passed. “Hello, old friend. Make yourself at home. Anything I can get for you? Ah yes. I almost forgot. ’Tis my wife, you want...and have.”

Waredraper and Doggett went directly upstairs.

Gideon stepped into his study, but remained inside the door watching Sabrina and Hawk. “I am fine,” he said. “Thank you for asking. As you said, it is only a flesh wound.” He shut the door with a decided slam.

Sabrina shed a new bout of tears before she stepped from Hawksworth’s arms and wiped the moisture from her eyes. “Do you see what he thinks of me?”

“He thinks nothing of the sort. He desperately fears the worst; that he has lost you. And you have given him reason to fear. The way you regarded him, at Lowick’s, as if he were dirt beneath your feet.”

“No. No, I did not. Not that. ‘Twas I, who felt dirty, filthy, disgraced, and I could not bear to witness his disgust of me. I was mortified that he had observed me with so vile a creature.” All but mounted by that creature, she thought, with inescapable and everlasting regret.

“Sabrina, he does not think badly of you. He is afraid, bitter, to see us like this, and hurt. Badly hurt. By you, and quite possibly he has been hurt previous to today, if I do not mistake the matter. Have you used him ill?”

“I have done nothing to hurt him. I have given him...everything.” Sabrina refused to admit that until recently she had given him all but herself. The night before had likely been already too late.

She shook her head, repeating her silent denial. “Gideon hates me because of Lowick’s accusations. I knew he would. He has taken a disgust of me. My association with such a horrid man is beyond scandalous; I always knew Gideon would perceive it so.”

“I think you must look into your heart, my dear, and discover the truth there, and then perhaps you should look into your husband’s eyes, and discover the truth there, as well. Learn to trust, Sabrina. Trust is everything,” Hawksworth said. “Stanthorpe is a good man. He bound my wounds as best he could and held me as I lay dying, or so we both thought, making of himself a target on that bloody, deadly battlefield.”

Hawksworth sighed as he looked into the teeth of hell. “He did not leave me willingly, but only when forced by circumstances to defend the members of our regiment against Boney’s troops.”

“I do not dispute that Gideon is a good man,” Sabrina said. “I have had daily proof.”

“He is the best of men. I would not have entrusted you to anyone less worthy. But even I know that you must earn love, and return it, if you wish to keep it.”

“Fine words from a man who appears to be running away.”

Hawksworth kissed Sabrina’s brow, lowered his cane to the floor and made for the stairs. “You mistake the matter,” he said, turning. “I no longer have the ability to run.”

Sabrina scoffed. “That is as blatant a falsehood as my saying that I could not bear to regard your scars. Stephens Hotel, indeed.” Sabrina raised a brow.

Hawksworth smiled. “You have perfected Stanthorpe’s arrogant brow, I see.”

“Where will you go?” Sabrina asked, refusing to rise to his bait. “What will you do?”

“After I have said good-bye to the boys? I have not as yet decided.”

“Have you at least informed Alexandra that she is not a widow?”

Hawksworth shook his head. “No.”

“Then you had better, and soon.”

Hawksworth regarded her sharply, and returned to her. “Tell me which is more important, that I tell Alex, or that I tell her soon?”

“Go and see her. Please.”

“Perhaps, I will,” he said. “We do have a score to settle, her and I. She needs to be taught a lesson, I believe. Perhaps…. Yes. I will strike you a bargain, Sabrina, my love. I will see my wife soon, if you will tell Stanthorpe that you love him.”

“I do not think I can,” Sabrina whispered. “I am afraid he will not care—”

Gideon opened his study door. “Hawksworth,” he said. “Do you mind if I have a word with my wife before you steal her away?”

There stood the man she ached to run toward, Sabrina thought, the man whose enfolding arms had once offered blessed comfort and a place of safety—if only he would open them now.

“Go,” Hawksworth said. “I will be upstairs with the boys.”

Sabrina raised her head and crossed the foyer on shaky legs, then she stepped into the study and shut the door behind her. As she and Gideon regarded each other, Sabrina damned near said she loved him, except that he distracted her by handing her the money canister that she had kept hidden in her desk since she moved in.

“Why were you hiding this from me?” Gideon asked.

Sabrina bit her lip. “I was not so much hiding it from you as I was hiding it for me.”

He scoffed. “Always, you talk in circles. It is time for talking straight, Sabrina, for once, please.”

“I suppose there does come a time to tell the truth,” she muttered, almost to herself, thinking she should come right out and say she loved him.

“From you, the truth would be a refreshing change.”

Smarting from the sting of those words, Sabrina raised her chin and changed course. “I used to keep my money hidden, in the event I needed to get away from my husband—my first husband. Once, I did use it to get away from Lowick.”

“And you hid it from
me
because?”

“Brian used to steal it, so I was forced to hide it. Once I was here, I continued to hide it because...I was used to doing so. Knowing it was available gave me a sense of...safety.”

“And you could n—”

“Though that was nothing,” she said, stopping him. “It was nothing, I came to realize compared to the sense of security
you
gave me.”

Gideon opened his mouth to speak, paused to reflect, and firmed his lips. He paced to the window and looked out for a long moment. “Thank you for telling me.” He took a slip of paper from his desk and handed it to her.

“What is this?” Sabrina asked, stepping nearer the lamp to read the document.

“I had the full race purse, eighty-five hundred pounds, deposited into an account in your name this morning. That is a copy of the deposit order. The money is yours.”

Sabrina sat. “You did this for me?” No one had ever done anything half so generous for her before. But then Gideon had done so much, never previously attempted, including making her love him. She rose and approached him. “After today,” she said, her voice suddenly as small as she felt. “You are especially kind to give this to me.”

“Kind?” Gideon spat the word, as if she had insulted him. “I am not kind,” he shouted—roared, more like. “Damn it to hell, Sabrina.” He grasped her shoulders. “Listen to me.”

Her heart began to race and her palms to sweat. And Sabrina simply stood there staring into his beautiful, bright green eyes, aware, so aware that her love for him shone in hers, hoping that was love for her, she saw in his.

But as if he could not believe the evidence before him, Gideon shook his head imperceptibly and stepped away from her. Then he ran his hand through his already mussed hair. “I love you,” he said in a rush. “I love you in a way I never thought myself capable of loving. I love you so damn much that I am prepared to divorce you, so you can have that former friend of mine, who gave you to me, only to take you away again.”

Sabrina did not know which of them was more surprised by his words. Chagrin, bashfulness, of all things, seemed to color Gideon’s features. He made to run his hand through his hair, again, but dropped his hands to his sides. “I am sorry. I do not mean to act coercive or bitter. You deserve every chance at happiness with whomever you choose to spend your life.” His voice was rising. “Though I honestly believe that I am the best husband for you, damn it.” He took a breath. “But that is the last I shall say on the matter.”

He loved her? After everything?

Gideon gazed out the window, traced the frost on the pane while seeming to look inside himself. “Sabrina. If you or the children ever need anything….” He turned to regard her, his emerald eyes more beautiful than she had ever seen them, so filled with love, Sabrina was like to fall to her knees in thankfulness. “Anything,” he said. “Ever.”

Gideon, the man she loved, loved her in return. Sabrina could barely take it in.

But why, when he believed that she gave herself to Lowick? He did not even know the truth of it, that Lowick attempted to take her by force on two occasions and failed both times.

Could she be so fortunate as to be the recipient of such a love? Impossible.

Perhaps he wanted her merely because he could not have her. It was a disheartening thought, but she must know for certain. She must. “There is something you should know about Hawksworth,” she said. “Before we go a step further.”

“Spare me. I know how much you love him.”

“You know nothing of the sort,” she snapped, getting his full attention. “Neither, I perceive, do you know that Hawksworth has a wife—though Alexandra yet believes herself a widow and is set to marry another.”

“I thought—”

“I know what you thought, but you are wrong. It was never like that between us. Hawksworth was Brian’s half-brother. He was my brother-in-law. He became my best friend. Featured himself my brother.”

Did she see hope burning in Gideon’s expression? “Hawksworth is still a friend,” she said. “But he is no longer my
best
friend.”

“Then you have already been a Duchess?”

“No, Brian was Hawksworth’s mother’s son, untitled and impoverished.”