Page 29 of The Offer


  “I never meant to hurt you when I took you as my wife. I always meant to honor you, to protect you, yet we’ve come to this. It’s damnable. What will we do now?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, “but I can’t bear it, Phillip, I really can’t.”

  “You unmanned me.”

  “I was very angry. I’m sorry, but I’d do it again. You were with her.”

  “I was there for a reason, Sabrina.”

  “Yes, I imagine that you were.”

  He sighed and let her go. He leaned down and picked up the riding crop. “You knew I’d come back here. You were going to protect yourself with this?”

  “I had nothing else. It seems like another lifetime, but I still remember. When we were at the hunting box, when you were taking care of me, you told me you’d show me how to fight. You didn’t. You forgot.”

  “Yes, I suppose I did. If I’d taught you, I wonder what damage you would have inflicted on me at Martine’s.”

  “Go away, Phillip. I’ve really said everything I wanted to. Please just leave me alone.”

  “Yes,” he said finally, “I suppose there really isn’t anything more to say at the moment.” He left her then, walking away from her, lightly hitting the riding crop against his leg.

  She turned to stare blindly into the glowing embers in the fireplace. He was right. There wasn’t anything more to say.

  Downstairs, Greybar said to Dambler just after the viscount had slammed his way out the front door, “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s bad.”

  “I know,” Dambler said. “I’ve never seen his lordship like this.”

  “We’ve both never seen him married.” Greybar shuddered. “What will happen now?”

  39

  Sabrina slowly laid down the pen. She looked away from the letter she’d spent the past hour writing. She looked out her bedchamber windows. Heavy-bellied clouds, laden with snow, hung low in the early morning sky. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, quickly added several more lines to her letter, and turned away to finish packing her portmanteau.

  She fastened the straps, dragged the portmanteau to the door, then saw her letter on the writing desk, and returned to read it one last time.

  “Dear Phillip,” she read. “I’ve returned to Monmouth Abbey. I’m truly sorry if my abrupt departure causes you embarrassment. I’m also sorry for many other things, Phillip, least among them my outrageous behavior of yesterday. You were perfectly right. I had no right to act the wounded wife and kick you in the groin for having a mistress, although I didn’t care at the time, I was so angry.

  “You will perhaps believe me the perfect hypocrite now, but I find that I simply cannot continue as we have. You’ve said that your freedom is important to you, you’ve said it many times, I just never listened. Now I hear you. It’s just that now I realize that I simply can’t be but one of the women to share your life. I want more than that. I’m worth more than that, at least I think I am, hope I am. Perhaps I’m wrong.

  “It’s time for me to return where I belong. I no longer have any real fear of Trevor, for as you have said, he values his own survival above all things.

  “I know you’re a proud man, Phillip, and that’s as it should be. I ask that in your pride you will not feel yourself honorbound to come after me. I’ve thought hard about this. It’s the only thing to do. It’s what I want. Good-bye. I’m truly sorry for all the misery I brought into your life. You didn’t deserve it.”

  Sabrina glanced one last time about her bedchamber, pulled her cloak closely about her, and made her way downstairs.

  She stopped right in front of Greybar and said in her coldest voice, “Is my hired carriage here?”

  Greybar was wringing his hands. “Wouldn’t you prefer to wait for his lordship to return? He should be back shortly. It shouldn’t be long now. Surely he wouldn’t want you to travel in a hired carriage. A viscountess shouldn’t ever travel in a hired carriage with hired horses. It isn’t safe. Please, my lady, just wait a moment longer, perhaps just ten minutes. All right?”

  “Good-bye, Greybar. You’ve been kind to me. But I must go now. Surely you understand that.”

  She carried her own portmanteau out the front door, leaving Greybar to stare after her, still wringing his hands.

  She walked quickly from the house into the cold morning. She stepped into the carriage and waved her gloved hand to the butler, who stood shivering and uncertain on the front steps, still wringing his hands.

  The horses started forward and she was tossed back onto the squabs. She drew a carriage blanket over her legs and sat there, staring out at nothing at all.

  The weary horses pulled to a steaming halt in front of Monmouth Abbey early four evenings later. Sabrina looked at the great weathered stone building, half castle, half manor house, its jagged surfaces worn smooth through the centuries. Smoke billowed from the massive fireplaces that towered twenty feet above the slate roof. Sharp points of candlelight dotted the latticed windows.

  It was very cold but at least it wasn’t snowing. It was quite dark, a quarter moon lighting the sky.

  She paused a moment before the great oak doors, her stomach knotting at the thought of facing down Trevor. But she could do it. She would face him down. She would, quite simply, kill him if he ever tried to touch her again. She pounded hard on the huge brass griffin knocker.

  Ribble opened the massive doors. He just stared at her, then shouted, “Lady Sabrina! Oh, my dear child, you’re home. Do come in. Oh, gracious, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

  He hugged her against him and she nearly burst into tears. “It’s so good to see you again, Ribble. You’re looking well. Is Grandfather all right? It’s been almost a week since I’ve heard anything. Please tell me he’s all right.”

  “Yes, he improves every day, I promise you.” Ribble set her away from him. She looked disheveled, thin, pale. He wanted to wrap her in three blankets, set her in front of a fireplace, and feed her. Instead, because he knew her, he said, “No, it’s all right. Everything will be fine. You’re home and we’ll all take care of you. Now, where is his lordship? Is he behind you?”

  “He isn’t with me,” Sabrina said simply, and walked into the large flagstone entrance hall.

  “Sabrina!”

  She looked up to see Elizabeth clutching the railing at the bottom of the staircase.

  “Hello, Elizabeth. Just a moment, please.” She turned back to Ribble. “Please see to my coachman and have my portmanteau brought in. Thank you.”

  She was aware of Ribble giving instructions to two footmen who were gawking at the returned prodigal. What had everyone been told? What did they believe?

  She walked to where her sister still stood, staring at her as if she were a ghost, that or something depraved that had wandered by accident into her view. “You’re looking very well, Elizabeth. I hope you are feeling just the thing.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? I didn’t run away and get caught in a snowstorm and nearly die.”

  To think she’d nearly held out her arms to her sister. “No, I expect you’re just fine. Your gown is very stylish.” Actually, the gown was lovely, but it seemed that Elizabeth had lost flesh. The gown hung off her thin shoulders. But her glorious fair hair was full and thick in braids around her face, wisps dangling down her neck. Sabrina tried to smile. She knew she had to be conciliating.

  Elizabeth took the last step and stood not a foot from her sister. “What are you doing here? I don’t recall asking you to come back. I know that Grandfather hasn’t. Well, maybe the old fool has written to ask you to come. I don’t know since he won’t allow either Trevor or me to read his letters.”

  “No, Grandfather didn’t ask me to come. I came on my own. I would like to stay with you for a while.”

  Elizabeth said coldly, “Now that you’re here, standing right in front of me, I suppose I can’t send you away, at least tonight. Where is your husband?”

  “He’s still in London. I wanted to se
e Grandfather, Elizabeth. I’ve felt so helpless not being here with him.”

  “Doubtless he will want to see you. You nearly caused his death, Sabrina. I hope this time you’ll behave as you should, as a lady should.”

  “Ah, conduct myself as a lady should. Now what does that mean? I wonder. Does it mean that a lady would simply lie helplessly in her bed to wait for her brother-in-law to come and rape her? Is that what you mean? You say nothing. Listen to me. Please don’t distort the truth now, at least not to yourself.”

  To her surprise, Elizabeth stared her down. Sabrina blinked, looked away. Elizabeth grabbed her sleeve and brought her close. “You little slut, don’t you try to preach at me.” Then she released Sabrina and laughed. “If you were guilty of nothing, sister, how is it that you are so very brave now? With your husband still in London, you have no protection from Trevor—if it is protection you need.”

  “It’s very simple, Elizabeth. Both you and Trevor know that Phillip would kill him without hesitation if he so much as laid a hand on me, or even thought about it.”

  “Since it never happened, neither of us need to worry, do we?”

  “Good God, what have we here? If it isn’t my little sister. What an unexpected surprise.”

  Sabrina saw Elizabeth go rigid at her husband’s voice. She turned to watch him come down the stairs, his walk lazy, the expression on his too-pretty face filled with rich humor. He never looked away from her face.

  “Yes, it is I, Trevor. I have come back to see Grandfather.”

  He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, making no move toward her. “And where is your marvelously fierce husband?”

  Elizabeth said, “The viscount is still in London. He will arrive shortly. As she said, she’s here to visit Grandfather.”

  “How delighted the old gentleman will be. His precious little Sabrina, returned to the fold. You will find him sadly changed, little sister, but quite alive.”

  “Yes. Both Phillip and Richard Clarendon assured me that Grandfather would continue to improve in his health, that you would see to it, Trevor.”

  “How could one not see to that dear old man? Is he not my great-uncle? I have all the loyalty and tender feelings of a grandson. Yes, the old man will live until the next century.”

  Sabrina merely nodded and said to Elizabeth, “If you wouldn’t mind, Elizabeth, I would like to visit Grandfather now. I shall be quite content with a tray, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble for Cook.”

  “Perhaps there is something remaining.”

  “But, my dear Elizabeth,” Trevor said, “have you forgotten? Why, we haven’t dined yet. Surely there will be a veritable feast of food, some of which we can share with your dear little sister. Perhaps I can even bring a tray to her myself. Perhaps she’d like me to remain with her and chat while she eats.”

  Sabrina didn’t feel the numbing fear she’d felt before. It was odd, but she was strong now, and it wasn’t simply because she knew Trevor was afraid of Phillip. No, she knew that she’d kill the bastard if he came near her. Why not tell him so? Then she saw her sister’s face. No, if he dared to come near her, then she’d tell him.

  She said, “Since I’ll be with Grandfather, Trevor, he will doubtless entertain me.” She nodded to both of them, then walked up the stairs, her back straight.

  Trevor called up after her, “Do ask the old gentleman if he would like to see either Elizabeth or me. It’s been a while since he’s enjoyed our company.”

  “I can believe that,” Sabrina said over her shoulder. Neither of them said anything as she kept walking.

  Trevor walked to his wife. He smiled down at her, raised his fingers, and lightly stroked them over her cheek. Then he drew her hand through his arm. “Of course, your sister is pleased to see me again, don’t you think? It will give us an excellent opportunity to become better friends, don’t you agree, Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth stared at the toes of her slippers that were peeping out from beneath the hem of her gown. She nodded numbly.

  “I believe I asked you a question, Elizabeth.”

  Sabrina had turned at the sound of Trevor’s voice, all low and oily. She felt the blood pound at her temples as she watched Trevor slide his fingers to the soft skin on the inside of Elizabeth’s arm and pinch her. She couldn’t help herself. She raced down the stairs, yelling, “Don’t you touch her, you filthy bastard! Don’t you dare hurt her.”

  Elizabeth said calmly, “Be quiet, Sabrina. Go on your way. Visit with Grandfather. Leave us alone.” Then she smiled up at her husband. “As you say, Trevor, that’s perfectly true.”

  “Perhaps,” Trevor said, “just perhaps, Sabrina, after Elizabeth has retired, you and I can have tea. Would you like that?”

  “I’d like for you to change into a human being, but that is unlikely to happen, isn’t it?” She turned on her heel and walked back up the stairs.

  “Until tomorrow then, little sister,” Trevor called after her; something in his voice would have scared her to her toes, regardless of Phillip’s threat to Trevor, if she hadn’t stolen Phillip’s derringer and had it in her reticule at this very moment.

  40

  Jesperson, the earl’s valet, opened the door to the vast bedchamber and sitting room. “Oh, my, it’s you, Lady Sabrina. Welcome home. Ah, this is a wonderful surprise for all of us.” Jesperson, normally quite solemn in the presence of any member of the family, was actually smiling at her, lightly touching his fingers to her shoulder. “Let me tell his lordship that you’re here. Oh, he’ll be so pleased. You can dine with him.”

  She took his large hand between hers. “Thank you, Jesperson, for taking care of him, for protecting him.”

  A flash of deep emotion crossed his face, then he was calm again. “This way, my lady.”

  Childhood memories stirred as Sabrina followed Jesperson through the sitting room to the long, rectangular bedchamber beyond. The small treasures she’d collected in her younger days and presented proudly to her grandfather were still displayed atop a huge mahogany desk: colored rocks from the streambed, polished by the rushing water to a smooth surface; a string of amber beads left her by her mother; a tattered kite whose long cloth tail lay wrapped limply about it.

  Her grandfather’s bedchamber hadn’t changed since before she was born. It was dominated by dark blue damask hangings. Thick Turkey carpets covered the planked floor, swallowing the sound of her heeled slippers. The earl sat in his chair before the roaring fireplace, wrapped in his favorite velvet burgundy dressing gown, his twisted fingers clutching the arms.

  “Grandfather,” she said very quietly so as not to startle him. When he turned and saw her, she saw the love for her in his dark eyes. She shouted and ran to him, hurling herself at his feet, her arms going around him.

  She felt his gnarled fingers stroke her hair, and she pressed closer and laid her head upon his legs.

  He was long silent, and Sabrina felt sudden fear that he had believed Trevor and Elizabeth’s stories about her. In her letters to him, she hadn’t written of what had happened, fearing to hurl him into a confrontation. She raised her head slowly and gazed into his fierce blue eyes.

  “You are so very much like her,” the old earl said, the tips of his fingers gently tracing her jaw, her nose, her eyebrows. “It’s such a pity that you never knew your grandmother. Camilla had such grace, such goodness, just as you do. And those eyes, they are her eyes as well, Sabrina.” He gave her a grave smile, his twisted fingers cupping her face. “You’re a beautiful, vibrant woman, Sabrina. I am very pleased to see you, relieved, truth be told. Is your husband here? I must look him over, you know, make certain that he is indeed the sort of man to deserve you.”

  Jesperson said from beside the earl’s chair, “Dinner is here, my lord. My lady, would you please sit in this chair? Then you may continue conversing while you eat.”

  But Sabrina didn’t want the formal chair. She eased down on her grandfather’s footstool, where she’d spent so many happy hours. Of course
then he hadn’t been ill. No, he’d be working at his desk, dealing with family matters, with estate matters, vigorous and boisterous and laughing.

  “You’re looking well, Grandfather,” she said, watching him eat a small bite of roasted chicken in Cook’s famous cream sauce, quite in the French way, Cook would say with a superior smile.

  “I’m but an old eagle chained to his nest, Sabrina. Even my spirit grows weary.”

  She laughed and said, “You’re an old poet who loves the simile and I refuse to allow you sole claim to tired spirits.”

  “What does a girl like you know about weary spirits and such?” Then he frowned. “You’ve seen your sister?”

  “Yes.” She tried to keep all feeling from her voice, but the earl had known her since she was born. He wasn’t having it.

  “She’s become even more a whining termagant now that she’s married to that scoundrel. Bedamned, if only I’d seen through him. I could have protected all of us.”

  “Please eat, Grandfather.”

  He forked down a bite of potatoes. “She’s not happy, but then, how could she be?” The old earl looked away from her, toward the fireplace, where comfortable flames flared and danced. “Elizabeth won’t ever be happy, Sabrina. I should have realized that long ago, but I didn’t. I thought all she needed was a husband. I looked upon Trevor and believed him a gift from a beneficent God. More fool I. But you see, even if she were married to a kind man, she would still be miserable because she dislikes herself.

  “I did give her what she wanted. She is now mistress of Monmouth Abbey. Someday she will be the Countess of Monmouth. She has always wanted to be the great lady, lording it over those about her, but it has brought her nothing. No, less than nothing. Now her misery is based on the behavior of someone outside herself. It is a pity, Sabrina, but there is nothing anyone can do about it.”

  Sabrina laid aside her tray. She slipped back to the floor, nestling her cheek against the earl’s dressing gown. She felt the skin of his leg stretch against the bone.