by Cheryl Holt
Nell’s jaw dropped. “Perhaps I’ll have Nathan visit that tavern so he can pound the owner into the ground for insulting you.”
“When I claim I was imperiled by Mr. Sinclair’s conduct, I’m not joking. You observed my deteriorated condition when I arrived.”
“I’m livid whenever I recall it.”
“Who would want a man like that for a husband? Who would want to join such a horrid family? As I remember how his mother glared at me, I get shivers down my spine.”
“I’m sorry you had to endure that experience, but what if you’re increasing?”
It took Sarah a moment to understand what she was intimating. “Increasing…with a baby?”
“Yes. What if you’re increasing? I don’t believe you’ll be able to refuse a proposal from him.”
“Then I’ll be in a dreadful jam because he can’t propose to me. Even if Nathan threatened him, he’s already betrothed to his nasty cousin. I hope he’ll be miserable with her for decades.”
Nell laughed. “Nathan convinces people to obey him. If he commands Mr. Sinclair to propose to you, then Mr. Sinclair will propose. It means he’ll show up and demand to speak with you.”
Sarah’s pulse raced with numerous emotions she couldn’t identify.
Sebastian might come to Selby? He might propose marriage again?
It had previously been her greatest dream, and he had proposed. She’d ruined herself at his behest. Afterward, he’d trotted off to Scotland on business, where he’d planned to purchase a summer house for Miss Gordon as a wedding gift.
That malicious shrew would never release him, and his relatives were counting on the match.
During their brief affair, she’d supposed he possessed some genuine affection for her, but any partiality he’d harbored hadn’t been enough to stop him from becoming engaged to Miss Gordon. It hadn’t been enough for him to inform his mother that he wouldn’t proceed.
Sarah shook her head. “Sebastian Sinclair will never show up here.”
“Nathan can be very persuasive.”
“And Sebastian is rich and important and extremely stubborn. He would never stoop so low as to marry a girl like me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Nell said. “These days, you’re not some paltry orphanage owner. You’re half-sister to the Earl of Selby.”
“It’s the half part that will give the Sinclairs a collective fit of the vapors. He’d never consider it. He had a chance to bind himself to me, and instead, he sent his mother over to evict me. He didn’t have the courage to tell me to my face that it was over.”
“I can’t predict what will occur, but you should prepare yourself. Nathan will be home for supper tonight. Mr. Sinclair might be with him, and if he isn’t, I’m betting he’ll strut in very soon.”
“He won’t!” Sarah sternly insisted.
“I guess we’ll see which one of us is correct, and you should spend some time figuring out what your answer is to be. If you spurn him, and it turns out you’re with child, what then?”
Sarah laid a protective hand over her belly. Might he have planted a babe there? She didn’t feel any different, and most women claimed it was evident right away.
“I’m not increasing,” she said. “I’m sure I’m not.”
Nell snorted with amusement. “It’s what I told myself too, but Fate can be merciless to a female.” She patted Sarah on the shoulder and said, “Think long and hard. If Nathan drags him here, your brother won’t let you reject him.”
“He can’t force me,” she huffed.
“No, he can’t, but he’s very persuasive, remember? He always gets his way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Stand in a straight line. No slouching, no lagging behind.”
Noah stepped closer to Petunia and slipped his hand into hers. As the days had flown by, she’d grown quieter until she hardly talked at all.
They were at the docks and about to climb into a longboat where they’d be rowed out to the ship that would whisk them away from England. The small vessel had gone out and back twice already, and they were in the last group.
He kept glancing down the busy wharf, studying the people rushing by. He’d been so sure they’d be rescued, but they hadn’t been. Once they were on the ship, the sails would be hoisted and they’d vanish. It would seem as if they’d never lived in England, as if they might be ghosts that had floated away.
Throughout their ordeal, he’d constantly whispered to Pet that they’d be fine, that someone would help them, but why had he thought that exactly? From the minute they’d been seized at Hero’s Haven, they hadn’t experienced a single positive event. Now it appeared they were at the end of the road.
“Stay by my side,” he murmured. “After we’re on board, I’ll demand we be sent to the same spot. We won’t be separated.”
She simply stared up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. Her poor mind was about at the breaking point, and it killed him that he couldn’t provide a better conclusion. He’d never forgive himself for failing her, but then, adults were so powerful, and he was just a boy. How could he fight any of them and win?
He yearned to grab Pet and run off into the crowd, but their jailor had feared that very scenario. They’d been roped to the others, so even if they wanted to flee, they couldn’t.
Well, he wouldn’t always be a child. In a few years, he’d be an adult too, and he assumed he’d shoot up in height, that he’d become brawny and muscular as his father had been. He’d be tall and strong, and he’d be able to get even with every villain who’d hurt them.
“I am Sir Sidney Sinclair’s son,” he said to a man who walked by, but the fellow ignored him. He repeated the same declaration over and over. He added too, “This is his daughter, Petunia Sinclair. There’s been a terrible error, and we’re being forced away against our will.”
Their jailor noticed him harassing the passersby. He stomped down to them.
“Shut your mouth, you little bugger,” he said. “Why can’t you be silent?”
“My half-brother is Mr. Sebastian Sinclair,” Noah responded. “I ask you to have mercy on my sister and tell him what happened to us.”
“Shut up! We’re tired of listening to your stupid stories.”
“He’ll pay you a reward. Visit him at his rural estate of Hero’s Haven. Inform him of how and when we left—so he doesn’t worry.”
Noah didn’t suppose their brother would care a whit about their plight, but he was so disheartened. Was there no one in the world to fret or wonder over their fate?
Mere months earlier, he’d resided with his grandfather. He’d been a beloved grandson who’d been spoiled and showered with every kind of boon. How could he have been yanked from that marvelous place and deposited in this desperate place? How could such an injustice have occurred?
“Sebastian Sinclair will pay me?” their jailor scoffed. “Yes, I’ll visit him immediately. He’ll probably fork over so much money that I’ll never have to work again!”
The man laughed, then strutted back to the head of the line. Those surrounding them laughed too. They’d heard Noah’s assertions, but they didn’t believe him. They thought he was a braggart and a liar.
He peered down at Pet and said, “We’ll always be together. I won’t let us be pulled apart.”
Suddenly, there was a kerfuffle down the wharf as a fancy carriage rolled toward them. It was a coach-and-four, with outriders on the corners, the horses being whipped into a vigorous advance that had people and animals scurrying out of its path.
The vehicle halted directly in front of them, and an outrider called to their jailor, “You there! Stop and attend my master.”
Everyone turned to see the eminent person who would exit, and Noah suffered a spurt of excitement. It was a Sinclair carriage. The servants were wearing Sinclair livery, and the Sinclair crest was on the side.
The outrider jumped down and set the step, then the door was opened. To Noah’s great surprise, his half-si
ster, Ophelia, emerged, and his excitement instantly waned. They’d met her once, and she’d been horrid to them.
Then Sebastian emerged too. His haughty gaze landed on Noah and Pet, and he marched over, Miss Ophelia dogging his heels.
“Are you all right?” he asked Noah.
“We’ve been very frightened, but we’re much better since you arrived. Have you come to rescue us? If you haven’t, I can’t imagine how I’ll survive my regret.”
“Yes, we’re here to take you home.” Sebastian whirled around, his glare piercing the jailor. “Who is in charge? You?”
The jailor blanched. “Yes, I’m in charge.”
Their brother stormed down to him, but Miss Ophelia stood with Noah and Pet, and she hovered over them in a very important way, as if she was protecting them.
She put a palm on Pet’s shoulder and said, “Don’t be afraid. You’re safe now.”
Sebastian announced to the jailor, “I am Sebastian Sinclair, son of famed explorer, Sir Sidney Sinclair.”
There were gasps of astonishment, and the man next to Noah muttered, “I’ll be damned. I guess you were telling the truth.”
Sebastian continued. “These children are my half-siblings, and they were brought to you by mistake.”
“I have a signed contract,” his jailor claimed as he had all along.
“Yes, I know,” Sebastian said, “but the woman who signed it wasn’t their guardian, and she had no authority to bind them.”
“A likely story,” the jailor mumbled.
“You doubt my word?” Sebastian demanded. “Me? Son of Sir Sidney?”
“Well…ah…ah…”
“I thought you might be recalcitrant.” Sebastian slapped some papers into his fist. “This is a writ from a judge, granting me permission to remove them from your custody.”
“A what?”
“A writ,” Sebastian repeated. “Find someone who can explain it to you.”
He came back to Noah and Pet, and he grinned at them. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Noah raised their wrists, showing him that they were fettered to the nearby adults.
“Were they worried you’d run away?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes. We’ve been awful prisoners.”
“Good for you!”
He winked at them, then he reached to his belt where he always carried a knife. He cut through the rope with a single slice, then he pointed to the carriage.
“Who wants to climb in first?”
Pet looked up at Noah, at the carriage, at Noah again, and she burst into tears.
“I told you it would be all right,” Noah said to her. “Didn’t I tell you?”
He hugged her tightly, then led her over to the vehicle.
* * * *
“You’re leaving at once.”
“Ophelia! You’re being ridiculous. So is your brother.”
“You are being sent home in disgrace.”
“Ophelia!”
Veronica tsked as if Ophelia was merely being difficult, as if they were having the type of argument they’d had as girls over hair ribbons or dress fabric. The gravity of her misdeeds hadn’t sunk in, and Ophelia might have shaken her head in disgust, but her cousin wasn’t worth the energy it took to be irritated.
She handed a sealed letter to an outrider who would escort Veronica to the country.
“Give this to her mother and no one else,” Ophelia advised him. “Apprise her that she is receiving specific instructions from Mr. Sinclair, and he expects they will be strictly obeyed—or there will be consequences.”
“I will tell her,” the man said.
They were in the driveway at Ophelia’s London residence, and the man stuck the letter in his coat, then went over to the coach to stand by the door. There was an entire team of men—guards really—waiting for Veronica to depart.
They were staring at her, their disdain clear, but she was a snob who didn’t notice their contempt.
“What is Sebastian’s message to my mother?” Veronica asked, appearing a tad nervous over the possible contents.
“He is determined that she have no illusions as to your conduct while you were with us.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” Veronica furiously insisted.
“You’re wasting your breath on me.”
“Those two urchins are back in the house.”
“No thanks to you,” Ophelia muttered.
“And they’re fine! They weren’t harmed, so these theatrics make no sense. Besides, their predicament was due to Gertrude’s scheming. Not mine.”
“Yes, you were a saint through the whole debacle.”
“Miss Robertson is fine too. Lord Selby said so! Why are you being so horrid to me? I simply can’t understand it.”
Ophelia wouldn’t bother explaining. She was too incensed.
“You will remain in the country for the next three years, and during that period, you will not show your face in town.”
“I would never agree to such a restriction,” Veronica scoffed.
“You will entertain no suitors. You will encourage no marriage proposals. You will live quietly with your mother and behave yourself. My brother orders you to reflect on your perfidy in the hopes that you’ll mature a bit in your habits and attitudes. Then—and only then—will he allow you to move on with your life.”
“He has no authority over me,” Veronica blustered, “and if he assumes he can toss me over, I certainly have no duty to heed him on any issue.”
“You’ve conveniently forgotten that he owns the property where your mother currently resides. If you defy him, he will be delighted to find new tenants.”
“But…but…that would mean he’d evict us. We’re family! He can’t be serious.”
“He’s very serious, and he commands you to take this seriously as well. So far, you haven’t, and he and I are weary of dealing with you.”
“I demand to speak with him!” When Ophelia didn’t reply, Veronica bellowed, “I demand it!”
“You are in no position to make demands of us.”
Veronica’s posturing wasn’t having any effect, and she drew in on herself, trying to look smaller and more contrite. “Just let me see him, Ophelia. Please? I’m sure I can calm him down. There’s no need for all this animosity.”
“My half-siblings were fettered on a dock and about to be loaded onto a cargo ship bound for America, where they would have been sold into indenture.”
“I wasn’t part of that! It’s how Gertrude buried your father’s dirty little secrets.”
Ophelia ignored the scurrilous comment, saying instead, “You were responsible for Miss Robertson’s misfortunes. She was thrown out on the road, with no money, no friends to offer shelter, and night falling. We’re lucky she wasn’t grievously injured. She is Lord Selby’s lost sister, and the entire city has learned how you treated her.”
“Gertrude insisted we proceed with Miss Robertson. You’re aware of how overbearing she can be. I couldn’t dissuade her! I am perfectly innocent of every charge! Why won’t you listen?”
“Get in the carriage, Veronica.”
“I won’t! I have to talk to Sebastian.”
“He has no desire to talk to you. Not ever again.”
“When will we complete my betrothal? It was supposed to happen at my party, but Lord Selby interrupted us.”
Occasionally, Ophelia wondered if Veronica wasn’t touched in the head. She was definitely carrying on like a lunatic. She refused to admit her role in their duplicity. She refused to admit any treachery. She even refused to acknowledge that people were imperiled. Because they hadn’t been physically hurt, she believed herself free from any transgressions.
“Sebastian will never wed you, Veronica,” Ophelia coldly informed her. “He is promised to another now. He will wed Miss Robertson—whom he loves beyond imagining.”
“No, no, no, no, no!” Veronica trembled violently. “He can’t pick her. You have to intercede with him for me.”
The sight of Noah and Petunia on that wharf, their wrists bound, was one that Ophelia would always remember, and it had ignited a fire of umbrage in her own breast.
She had stepped forward to handle Veronica—so Sebastian wouldn’t have to. She would scold her cousin and send her packing. It was a tiny gift she could give to her brother, and she was eager to provide it.
By his allowing her to assume control of the situation, she felt extremely powerful for a change.
“Sebastian is finally going to be happy,” Ophelia said. “It’s all I want for him. He’ll marry the woman he loves, and he’ll be happy forever. Now get yourself in the coach, Veronica. We’re exhausted by you.”
Veronica seemed to realize her jeopardy, that this was no joke or lark. She fell to her knees, her arms outstretched to Ophelia, as she beseeched, “Ophelia, I’m so sorry! Let me speak to Sebastian. Let me beg his pardon.”
“You will not inflict yourself on my dear brother.”
Veronica started to weep, huge tears dripping down her cheeks, but Ophelia was unmoved. She was Sir Sidney’s daughter. She was Sebastian Sinclair’s sister. For the remainder of her life, she would protect him from the slightest arrow anyone might shoot.
“Goodbye, Veronica. I doubt I’ll ever see you again.”
“You can’t mean it, Ophelia! You’re my best friend! You always have been!”
“Use wisely your three years in the country. Try to figure out what matters to you—as I have. Try to atone for your sins, and perhaps Sebastian and I will be able to forgive you someday.”
“Ophelia!”
Veronica kept repeating Ophelia’s name as if repetition would bring her a different result.
Her cousin was still on her knees, and Ophelia was fatigued by her obfuscations and whiny diatribe. She gestured to the outrider who would lead the servants.
Two men came over to Veronica, lifted her to her feet, and marched her to the carriage. She struggled and wouldn’t climb in, so they hefted her in and shut the door. The men leapt on board, and the driver gripped the reins. There was an inhale of collective breath as everyone expressed relief that the horrid scene was over.