The Heir

  “Letting his temper get the better of him, or so he confessed to me. He was confronting her, had sought her out to demand answers, nothing more.”

  “Now, that doesn’t surprise me. She is well known to drive people to rage, the result being they do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do.”

  Sabrina blushed slightly, to have her own appalling reaction to Ophelia that night described so perfectly. “Yes, well, they are engaged again, but only because she convinced his family that you would spread the tale of it to ruin her. This is why Lord Neville has been looking for you. He doesn’t want Duncan to marry her. Duncan doesn’t want to marry her either. But he can’t in good conscience not do so, when it was his own temper that caused him to be there and would result in her ruination if he doesn’t marry her.”

  “Good Gawd, you mean she won him because of me? I’ve handed him to her on a silver platter, as it were? Oh, no, absolutely not. If that is the only reason he is marrying her, then he will have my assurance that what I saw will never be told to anyone. Her blasted reputation is quite safe in this instance, if it means she won’t get what she wants—finally.”

  Sabrina smiled, relieved for Duncan’s sake at least. “I rather thought you would feel that way.”

  Chapter Forty-six

  Sabrina expected Duncan to be knocking on their door any time now. She didn’t expect the door to open without her aid, but that it did, the reason being she’d forgotten there was a key to it.

  The fourth ransom demander stood there just inside the doorway, key in hand. He was the one who was less unkempt than the others, the one without a weapon—at least, none that he’d revealed thus far. Which didn’t mean that he didn’t have one on his person somewhere, just that he seemed the less dangerous of the lot—so far.

  His first words didn’t give cause for alarm either. “Come along, ladies, I’m here to save you. There’s a bloody big Scotsman on a rampage downstairs.”

  “That Scotsman happens to be a friend of ours,” Sabrina pointed out.

  “I was afraid of that,” he said, chewing at his lower lip in a way that revealed just how worried he was now. “Well, one of you is coming along with me, to save me, then. And I’d rather it not be you, Miss Never-Shuts-Up.”

  Sabrina, a bit indignant over his description of her, replied stiffly, “You are not inconveniencing my friend here any further than you already have in detaining her here. If you mean to save yourself, I suggest you get to it. There’s a window right there.”

  “We are upstairs,” he complained, as if she had overlooked that fact.

  “So? I would imagine any fall you might take on your way down will be less painful than if Duncan MacTavish gets his hands on you.”

  He turned more fully to face Sabrina to argue with her. “Now, look, lady, I’m the one in charge here, and I’m not about to give up using one of you as my ticket to escape this mess, especially when you didn’t even give us the bloody forty pounds you owed us!”

  “Well, if that’s all you still require—”

  Sabrina didn’t need to finish. Mavis, quite familiar with the room in the dark, had managed to find something heavy to use as a weapon and took the opportunity of his turning his back to her to bash him over the head with it.

  She then set the object down, dusted her hands briskly, and said to the unconscious fellow, “That was for feeding me only bread.”

  Sabrina started to grin, but the door opened again. It was Duncan this time, and after he stared a moment at the man on the floor, he glanced at her and said accusingly, “I thought you were going tae lock yourself in.”

  “Well, I did,” she replied uncomfortably in her own defense. “I suppose I forgot that he had a key that might circumvent that.”

  “Did you now?” he said in a disgusted tone as he hefted the unconscious man over his shoulder. On the way out the door, he added, “You can come downstairs now. Newbolt has gone tae fetch someone tae collect these fellows.”

  “He was all right then?”

  “Aye, he’s fine, more embarrassed than anything else, that he let riffraff get the better o‘ him. Och, and a wee bit angry o’er it, I might add.”

  “Did you let my aunts know that you have everything under control?” she asked as she followed him downstairs.

  “When I didna have this fellow yet, nor even know your aunts are here? Where are they?”

  Sabrina blushed slightly, to have forgotten that she hadn’t mentioned their presence yet. Adventure just wasn’t her cup of tea, she supposed, when it caused her to make one blunder after another.

  “They’re outside in our coach. I’ll be right back then,” she said, and hurried out the front door before he noticed her embarrassment.

  It took a bit longer than she imagined to reassure her aunts that no one was in any more danger. She’d been inside the house too long for them not to have gotten extremely upset. But as soon as they started to argue with each other over whether they should return home immediately or try to find an inn open at that hour, she knew they had calmed down enough for her to go back inside the house for a moment.

  She still had to give Duncan the good news, that Mavis wasn’t going to tell anyone about what she’d seen that night at Summers Glade, if Mavis hadn’t told him herself by now. Mavis had followed her downstairs, so she might have assured him already that he didn’t have to marry Ophelia.

  She was surprised to find him alone by the stairs, and not exactly looking like someone who had just performed a very nice and successful rescue, nor someone who’d been saved from a marriage he didn’t want. He looked like he’d just lost his best friend.

  She was alarmed, demanded, “What happened?”

  He barely glanced at her in his dejection. “She willna help me, lass. She flatly refused tae keep silent if I dinna marry Ophelia.”

  Sabrina frowned. “Nonsense, she already assured me she would.”

  “Then she lied tae you. She’s delighted tae be able tae serve Ophelia her just deserts. Her words exactly. And she willna discuss it further.”

  Sabrina sat down on the stairs, a bit dazed in her confusion. “I don’t understand. She thought you were already engaged to Ophelia again, that that’s why you were with her that night. It made her miserable to think that Ophelia was again getting just what she wanted. That’s why Mavis left. She was completely disheartened. But when I explained to her what had really happened, and that you were only marrying Ophelia to protect her reputation because of what Mavis saw, she swore she’d never tell. Why did she change her mind, Duncan? What did you tell her?”

  “The truth.”

  “And I didn’t?” she asked in a bewildered tone.

  “Aye, you did,” he assured her. “There was just a wee bit more that you didna know aboot, and I didna think tae keep from mentioning. I was forgetting how much the lass hates Ophelia. I was appealing tae her compassion only, but it apparently takes second place tae her desire tae have Ophelia no‘ get what she wants for once.”

  “What truth?”

  “Ophelia doesna want tae marry me, any more’n I do her. After a talk she had wi‘ Neville, where he explained tae her the responsibilities she’d be facing as the next marquise, she’s determined that being m’wife will be tae much a chore for her. Rafe was right, ’twas only the title she was interested in, no‘ me in particular, and now that the title entails more’n she was expecting, she wants oout o’ the engagement again.”

  Sabrina didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. She was relieved, greatly, that Ophelia didn’t want Duncan, that she’d never really wanted him, only what came with him. But she was going to get him anyway, because of the way she was, because she’d created such baleful feelings against her that her onetime best friend would rather get revenge on her than do what she knew to be the right thing.

  “I’ll talk to her again.”

  “You’re welcome tae try, lass, but I saw it in her eyes, the triumph I just handed her, that she now has the means tae get e’en wi‘ h
er enemy. She’ll no’ be giving that up.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Duncan had been right. Mavis was immovable in her decision to take her revenge and run with it. She was also angry with Sabrina, thinking she had deliberately kept the more important part of the situation from her, and wouldn’t believe that she simply hadn’t known about it. That didn’t help at all to make Mavis see reason, quite possibly gave her an excuse to ignore anything Sabrina had to say.

  She’d scoffed at the notion that Duncan was the innocent party in this and the one who would really be getting hurt by it. She’d pointed out that men didn’t take marital commitments as seriously as women did, that many of them didn’t even try to hide their infidelities anymore, and the gossip mills supported that contention.

  “He’ll have his mistresses to keep him happy and the most beautiful woman in all of England as his wife to be envied for,” Mavis had told her. “So how could he not come out ahead in this? It’s not as if he had someone else that he wanted to marry, or he would have done the asking and then none of this would have occurred.”

  That point had stabbed home directly, if unintentionally. It was yet another reminder of how unrealistic Sabrina’s own hopes had been. But she had thrust it aside with her other dashed hopes.

  However, having exhausted all the “decent thing to do” points, Sabrina was forced to resort to, “She’s going to make his life hell. Would you want to spend the rest of your days with her?”

  “I wouldn’t. I’d lock her away and let her out only for holidays, and maybe not even then. I’d make her life hell, believe me, and do so without the least bit of guilt, knowing it’s what she deserves. I hope, I really do, that Duncan MacTavish is smart enough to do just that. So go home, Sabrina. I appreciate that you came here to help, but you’re wasting your time now.”

  It had been one of the hardest things Sabrina had ever had to do, to come back downstairs and have to shake her head at Duncan. This had been his own last hope and now it was gone.

  He had apparently expected no other outcome, however, because his expression didn’t change, not that it could have gotten much more dejected at that point. He did gather her in his arms, though, to thank her for trying. And it was like heaven and hell for those few moments, savoring the feel of him, yet knowing it would probably be the last time she would ever be that close to him.

  Duncan and Raphael rode along with their coach, escorting them back to Oxbow, which her aunts had decided would be the best course of action, despite the lateness of the hour. Sabrina hadn’t even known that Raphael had been there with Duncan until she was already in the coach and they were on the way, and she could vaguely hear his voice outside complaining of a wicked headache.

  The return trip seemed to go much quicker, and Sabrina was in bed before dawn after all, though it was close, less than an hour away. She had managed to keep from crying until then, but as soon as her head touched her pillow, all the emotions of the last week converged on her again—and the knowledge that Duncan would probably be married before she woke.

  It wasn’t any more painful to rise in the afternoon and know that Duncan’s marriage had become a fact that morning. That surprised Sabrina. She had anticipated being devastated again. But after thinking about it, she realized there was no difference for her either way. Loving him, she hurt for him, but it wasn’t as if she might have been able to have him for herself if there were no Ophelia.

  Her own worse pain had occurred earlier in the week when his grandfather had warned her what Duncan’s real feelings for her were. Until then, she had still harbored a small hope that if he didn’t have to marry Ophelia, he might marry her instead. But it wouldn’t have happened, at least not for the right reason, which Archibald had pointed out to her. She would never be more than a friend to him—but some friend she was, to have missed his wedding.

  It annoyed her now, that she’d missed it. Archibald had told her that Duncan would be needing his friends today more than ever. And she couldn’t help recalling how sad he’d looked last night, just before he hugged her.

  She hoped her aunts had at least gone to the wedding. They’d all been invited. But considering the hour they’d gotten to bed, they’d probably overslept, too. It was too bad Duncan couldn’t have done the same. She was sure he would have liked to. But no doubt someone had woken him. It was his wedding day, after all.

  Coming downstairs a bit later, she found at least one of her aunts up and about, and on her way up to fetch her, or so Alice indicated when she said, “So you are up then? I wasn’t sure.”

  “Yes, did you go to the wedding?”

  “Good heavens, no, we needed some sleep. But I don’t doubt we’ll hear all about it for the next month or two. Right now you have a visitor in the parlor.”

  Sabrina wasn’t sure why she guessed it was Ophelia, possibly because she had been her last visitor. On her wedding day, though? Yes, she would want to gloat—no, actually, she was forgetting what she had learned last night, that Ophelia had changed her mind about wanting to marry Duncan. She was still incredulous over that. How could any woman not want a man who possessed all the qualities one could possibly hope for in a husband? But Ophelia had her own personal set of priorities, and Duncan just didn’t fit in to them.

  She would be there to complain then and bemoan the fate she’d been dealt, a fate Sabrina would have given anything to have for herself. Sabrina wouldn’t tolerate it, not this time. She wouldn’t pretend a friendship anymore, either, that had never been there to begin with, especially when she knew now how Ophelia had lied to her, manipulated her, and even set about to deliberately ruin her. Actually, she decided she would simply show Ophelia to the door.

  Determined to do just that, she was quite deflated to find Mavis waiting on her in the parlor instead. She even blushed slightly over the mean thoughts she’d just had about Ophelia. That Mavis was looking a little embarrassed as well gave her pause, though.

  But it was easy enough to guess why the other girl would be uncomfortable. Mavis probably wanted to explain why she had refused to help Duncan, was probably suffering a guilty conscience for it now. She wasn’t really a bad sort, after all, just unwilling to give up her one chance for revenge against someone she felt was so deserving of it and wouldn’t get it any other way. Not that any of it mattered now, when it was too late.

  “I came to apologize,” Mavis began.

  “There’s no need.”

  “Yes, there is. I knew I wouldn’t do as I said last night. I should have indicated as much to you, or at the very least offered you some doubt, so you wouldn’t have left thinking the worst of me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Mavis sighed. “I just wanted to savor, for a few hours at least, having the power to destroy Ophelia’s happiness in my hands. And I just wanted her to know it, for a short time. She really does need to learn that the horrid things she does will come back to haunt her, and this was one instance to prove it to her.”

  “For a short time?”

  “Yes, I intended to stop by Summers Glade today on the way back to London, to let Duncan know that he doesn’t have to marry her, at least not to save her reputation on my account. For me to spread the tale of the compromising situation I came upon would make me no different from her. It’s something she would do, hurting someone else just to get what she wants, and the day I start behaving like her is the day I hope someone locks me up and throws away the key.”

  Sabrina grinned. She would have laughed aloud in her relief, but managed to restrain that impulse. She didn’t want Mavis to know just how happy she was for Duncan.

  “Then you’ve already told Duncan?”

  “Well, no,” Mavis said. “I was hoping you would come with me. I rather suspect he will be annoyed with me for letting him think, even for another day, that he still had to marry that witch.”

  It was like having the ground open up and swallow her. Sabrina found the shock was just as bad, especially after her
momentary relief.

  “You didn’t know the wedding had been scheduled for this morning, did you?” Sabrina asked in a dull, lifeless voice.

  The immediate loss of color to Mavis’s face was answer enough, but she said, “How could it be so soon? It takes three weeks just to post the banns!”

  “Unless a special license is obtained, and Lord Neville apparently had one in hand long ago. Due to his advanced age, he didn’t want any time wasted, once Duncan made his choice of bride. Understandable that he’d like to see a great-grandchild or two before he passes on. But in this case, the rush was to circumvent a scandal as well. After all, they didn’t know that you wouldn’t say anything about what you witnessed.”

  “Good God, if I’d known there was a time constraint ... I confess I even considered keeping silent for at least a week, but felt that would be too long to let Duncan go on thinking he had to marry Ophelia. But I didn’t think a few hours would matter overly much, when he would probably be sleeping through most of them. Oh, God, I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for this.”

  Ordinarily Sabrina would have tried to ease the other girl’s misery, a natural impulse for her, but for once she couldn’t manage to even try. It wasn’t Ophelia’s life that was ruined, whether she thought so or not, due to Mavis not fessing up to her intentions immediately, it was Duncan who would have to live with the results.

  “Perhaps it isn’t too late,” Mavis added, grasping at straws.

  “They are married. That’s too late no matter how you look at it.”

  “Yes, but there is still another way to get out of a new marriage, well, as long as they haven’t gone straightaway to bed to consummate it, and why would they when they don’t even like each other? They could get an annulment, which is certainly more acceptable than a divorce.”

  Sabrina couldn’t manage to see that as an option. “Based on what grounds?”