Sabrina

by Kruger, Mary

  There was a sudden flash of light, followed by a loud boom. She screamed and stumbled, falling to the ground in a trembling mass, terrified by the noise, but when the world seemed to hold steady she scrambled to her feet and ran again. Another explosion of light, another boom, and again she stumbled, this time coming up against a tree and holding onto it for dear life. Get out of here, she told herself, frantically. No matter what was happening, she could not afford to stay here, easy prey for Reginald. Gathering up her skirts, she ran, until finally she burst out of the woods into the clearing where the pavilion was.

  Everybody was watching the sky for the next burst of fireworks, but the sight of a beautiful girl dressed richly in ice-blue satin, a dark blue mask her only disguise, was sufficiently novel to draw people’s attention. Sabrina, too intent on escape to notice, plunged into the crowd, only marginally aware that she was jostling people who protested in angry tones. Occasionally hands grabbed for her, for she was an enticing sight and was unencumbered by an escort, but she managed to elude most of them. “Come on, girlie, let’s have a look at you,” came a coarse, masculine voice as a hand grabbed her arm. She swung out wildly. The hand abruptly released her, its owner swearing fluently, and Sabrina pressed on, never knowing she had given someone a bloody nose he would long remember.

  Finally she reached the edge of the crowd. Free now, she put on a burst of speed, and, at last, at last, made it into the safety of the trees and the path that led to the watergate. The watergate, the watergate, she chanted in her mind. Once she reached there she would be safe, she could get home.

  Something loomed up in front of her, and before she could swerve she was crashing into it. There was a loud “Oomph!”, as if the air had been driven out of someone’s lungs, and hands came up to grasp her shoulders in a punishing grip. She was caught again.

  Chapter 25

  Sabrina struggled and kicked, but to no avail. Her accoster held her far enough away to prevent any real damage being done to him, in spite of her struggles. Finally she had had enough, and she screamed in frustration. “Let me go! Let me go!”

  “Be quiet, you little fool!” Oliver hissed, his grip tightening, and Sabrina suddenly went limp.

  “Oliver!” she gasped.

  “Keep your voice down. Do you wish to attract everyone’s attention?”

  “Oh, Oliver, I’m so glad you’re here!”

  “That remains to be seen,” he said, grimly. “Where is your domino?”

  “I—I don’t know. I must have lost it.”

  “Damn! Were you recognized?”

  “I—don’t know.”

  “If we squeak through this we’ll be lucky,” he said. “Come on. You’re going home.”

  “The watergate—”

  “Is that way. Yes, I know. We’ll go home by land. Now be quiet, my girl, before I thrash you.”

  Sabrina subsided. She was too relieved at her timely rescue, and happy that it was Oliver, angry though he was. But, oh, what did she do now? Now not only Tenbroeck knew of her secret, but Reginald, and he would surely use that knowledge. Exposure might come at any time for her.

  Oliver all but shoved her into the carriage and then climbed in, sitting in the corner across from her and watching her with glittering eyes. “Well, miss?” he said, breaking the tense silence as the carriage started off. “Have you anything to say for yourself?”

  “No,” she said, her eyes downcast.

  “No? No protestations of innocence?”

  “No.”

  “If you think that will make me refrain from beating you, think again. I am sorely tried, Sabrina. Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? If Letty—”

  “Letty told you?”

  “You can thank your lucky stars she did. By the looks of you, you ran into trouble.” She didn’t answer. “Did someone insult you, Sabrina?” he asked, mockingly. “Make improper suggestions to you? Come now, Sabrina, why so quiet? Surely you can tell me what happened. Ah, I know. Someone did this!”

  He reached across the space separating them and hauled her into his arms. She had just time for a wordless cry before his mouth clamped ruthlessly down on hers, effectively cutting off any protest she might make. It was meant to be a punishment, this embrace, an example of what a man could do and an outlet for his frustrations, but her lips were incredibly soft, her scent subtly intoxicating, and she was warm and soft in his arms. Insensibly he gentled the kiss, now moving his lips sensuously against her, and his grip became less punishing.

  Too stunned to struggle, she lay stiff in his arms. It was too much, after all that had happened, but what was worse were the feelings welling up inside her. Thrown off-balance yet again, Sabrina gave up the fight against her growing response. Her arms crept up to twine about his neck and she held him as closely, as tightly as she could, returning the kiss with a previously unsuspected sensuality of her own. Under the relentless pressure of his lips hers parted, allowing his tongue entry, and the sensation was so exquisite she moaned.

  Oliver stiffened at the sound. Good God, what was he doing? “Damn,” he said, softly, and before Sabrina quite knew what was happening she was being lifted again and placed on her own side of the carriage. Bewildered by the too-rapid change of events, she stared at him across the abyss that suddenly plunged between them. “My apologies, Sabrina.” His head was turned, looking out the window, and he sounded merely bored. “I did not mean that to happen.”

  She looked away. How was she supposed to react when the man she loved apologized for the most transcendent experience of her life? She wanted to weep, she wanted to rage at him. Instead, she huddled into a corner, dazed and battered by the night’s events, wanting only to die and be done with this.

  Her teeth began to chatter. Reaching out his hand, Oliver encountered her arm, found it icy cold, and let out an oath. “Why did you not tell me you were cold?” he said, stripping off his coat.

  “I—didn’t—realize.”

  “If you hadn’t lost your domino—”

  Sabrina suddenly remembered where her domino was and let out a whimper that startled her as much as it alarmed Oliver. The girl had been through too much, and he hadn’t helped matters. She probably couldn’t handle any more tonight. “Put this on,” he said, handing her his coat.

  “I—don’t need—”

  “You’ll catch your death,” he said, brusquely. “Put it on. Good God, why can’t females have more sense?”

  Sabrina didn’t answer. Instead she burrowed deep into his coat—his blue superfine, if she had seen it properly by the light of the fireworks—trying to find warmth and solace. Dear Lord, what was she going to do?

  The remainder of the ride was quiet. Oliver didn’t speak until they had at last pulled up in Mount Street. “For God’s sake, take that mask off,” he said.

  “What? Oh.” Sabrina had forgotten that she still wore the mask. With fingers that shook a little she reached up to untie it, and then handed Oliver his coat.

  “Thank you,” he said, still brusque. “Inside, now.”

  Inside Sabrina stood uncertainly by the staircase. She’d done it now. Oliver was certain to do more than scold her, and the worst part was that she deserved it. “Sir?” she said.

  Oliver turned to look at her. She looked so woebegone that his anger almost melted. Almost. “Go to bed, Sabrina. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, almost sagging in relief. Dropping him a hasty curtsy, she turned and hurried up the stairs.

  Oliver watched her go and then turned away, unable to sort through the conflicting emotions that filled him. He wasn’t sure of what he was feeling, besides anger. He headed for his study, there to make intimate acquaintance with a bottle of fine French brandy.

  “Now, miss, if you please, I require an explanation from you,” Oliver said, from behind his massive desk. Sabrina stood in front of him, her eyes downcast. “Well, Sabrina? Speak. Why did you go to Vauxhall last night?”

  “I wished to s
ee it,” she mumbled.

  “You’re lying,” he said, pleasantly. “I can always tell when you lie, Sabrina. You blush. Now. The real reason, if you please. Why did you go there, and with Reginald, after I expressly forbade you to see him?”

  “He asked me to go.”

  “He asked you to go. And do you do everything he asks of you?”

  “No, sir, not always.” She faced him directly at that, and the look in her eyes, almost accusing, puzzled him.

  “Well? And how did he lure you there last evening?”

  “He didn’t lure me! He didn’t have to.” Her head was down again, sullen. “I wanted to go.”

  “Doubtless you did, but have I not told you, miss, that Vauxhall is not for you?”

  “You’re so stuffy sometimes, Oliver!” she burst out. “Maybe if you’d taken me when I asked, properly escorted, last night would not have happened.”

  “Don’t put the blame for this on me,” he answered swiftly.

  “You deserve the blame. If you and Lady Marshfield—”

  She stopped, and for a moment there was silence. “What about Lady Marshfield?” he said, finally, in a quiet, deadly voice. “Well?”

  “I—saw you with her.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “At Lady Helmsley’s. You were—”

  “Damn.” He got up, one hand thrust into his hair, and began to pace the room. Damn, he owed no one any explanations for what he did, or, at least, he never had before. He glanced over at Sabrina, still standing, her head downcast, and his lips tightened. This time was different. This time, by his careless actions, he had hurt the one person he wanted to protect above all others. “I’m sorry about that, Sabrina,” he said, and her eyes rose. “Oh, sit down, we might as well have this out.” He perched on the edge of his desk facing her. “It’s no secret Moira and I were once very close.”

  “No,” she said, her head down again, and he reached out to catch her chin in his fingers.

  “Were, Sabrina. Whatever was between us ended a long time ago. A very long time ago.”

  “But you almost married her once.”

  And who had told her that piece of gossip? No matter; the ton was known for its maliciousness. “I was very young, Sabrina, and very foolish. I count it as among the best things that ever happened to me that she chose someone else.”

  “Then—you don’t love her?”

  “No. And I don’t believe I ever did,” he said, reflecting on the truth of that for the first time. “As to what I feel about her now—well, to tell you the truth, I don’t feel anything for her.”

  “But I saw you.”

  “Yes.” He thrust his hand into his hair again. And how had that come about, he wondered. “I won’t deny that. But what you saw, Sabrina, was a man taking his leave. That is all.” He watched her closely. “I am sorry if it caused you any pain.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, brightly, which didn’t fool him for a moment. “I was just rather startled.”

  “Mm-hm. Tell me, how did it happen that you saw us?”

  “I had been dancing, sir, and I wished to have some refreshment, so I left the ballroom.”

  “Alone?” he said, sharply.

  “No.” She raised cool eyes to him. “I was with Reginald.”

  “Ah.” He suddenly understood a great deal. “I see. And it was after that that he asked you to go to Vauxhall.”

  “No, he’d asked me before, but that was when I agreed.”

  “I see.” He went behind his desk again and sat down. “And what happened there last night, miss?” he asked, the stern guardian again. “What happened to put you in such a state?” She glanced quickly up at him, and then down again, and his voice took on an impatient note. “Come, Sabrina, tell me. If you are ruined, I need to know.”

  She swallowed, hard, and kept her eyes down. “I—we—Reginald and I—were dancing. But it was so crowded. It was a country dance and we were separated. When it ended I tried to find him and I couldn’t. I ended up on one of the paths and I got lost. Then I heard someone behind me. It was a man, dressed like a wolf.”

  “Appropriate,” Oliver murmured.

  She gave him a quick glance before she went on. “He—he grabbed me and tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. He held onto my domino—that’s when I lost it—and I ran. I ran until I reached the dance floor and when I got across that I started running again, and then I bumped into you.”

  Oliver’s face was inscrutable. “I see. The truth now, Sabrina.”

  Sabrina looked nervously up at him. If she told him that, he would be even angrier. “The truth?”

  “Yes. And don’t concoct another Banbury tale.”

  Sabrina gave him another quick look and then, in a low voice, told him the true story, all of it, omitting only the knowledge Reginald had somehow gained of her. Oliver’s face was stern throughout, and when she told him of Reginald’s desire to marry her, his eyebrows drew together in a ferocious frown. It wasn’t until the end, when she was describing how she had broken free, that he relaxed.

  “It’s not so very different from what I told you,” she said. “Reginald tried to kiss me, and I—well, Papa once told me where and how to hurt a man, so I did.”

  “Good God!”

  “He grabbed for my domino as I ran, and then I ran into you, and—why are you laughing?”

  “Just imagining Reginald’s reaction. Good God, Gerald must have been quite a man!”

  “Then—you believe me?”

  “Yes.” He suddenly sobered. “This time, I do. But don’t lie to me again, Sabrina. How can I help you, if you lie?”

  “I—I won’t, sir.”

  He tapped his fingers together. “I won’t say I told you about Hailey’s motives, though I did.”

  “I really did think he was my friend.”

  “Oh, yes, he’s a plausible villain. But at least you know now, and perhaps there was no harm done. And he will never bother you again.”

  “Sir?” She raised her eyes to him as he rose. “What are you going to do?”

  “Warn him that he is not to come near you again, of course. And you, miss, are never to see him again, either.”

  “If I can avoid it.”

  “You will avoid it, Sabrina.”

  “But he is coming to our ball.”

  “Damn!” In that case, it was too late to deny him entrance to the house. “Very well. But you will not be private with him that evening. And if he attempts anything, you will tell me, immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” She kept her eyes down. She had no doubt that Reginald, in spite of Oliver’s strictures, would find a way to get to her. He was not going to let the knowledge he had of her go to waste.

  Oliver’s glance was shrewd. “Is something else bothering you, Sabrina?”

  The truth, the truth. Tell him the truth before he finds it out elsewhere! “No, sir, nothing.” How could she tell him when he was already so angry? He would toss her out without a second thought. “What is to be my punishment, sir?”

  “I should beat you,” he said, though he knew never would.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His eyebrow rose at her that. “However, Sabrina, I will not do so. I have found you to be a sensible girl and I trust you will be sensible about this. I believe that your experiences last night were punishment enough, and that you have learned your lesson.”

  “Oh, yes, sir, I have!”

  “Now we must wait and see if your reputation has been damaged. Did you see anyone there last night that you knew?”

  “No, sir, but the masks and the costumes—”

  “Would disguise people. Depend upon it, however, members of the ton were there. We must just hope you weren’t recognized.” His voice sharpened. “You will go on with your life, Sabrina, as if nothing happened. You will not cry off from any social events and you will let yourself be seen. However. You will see only who I say. You will go only where I say you may, and when I say. The rest of the time you will be confined to this house. If I fin
d you have disobeyed me it will not go well with you. You are getting off lightly this time, Sabrina, but do not push me much farther. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Oh, yes, sir,” she said, fervently. “I promise I will do whatever you say.”

  He relaxed a bit. “Well, we shall see how long that lasts. Go to your room. And God help you, Sabrina, if you get into any more scrapes!”

  “No more, sir I promise.”

  “Mm-hm.” His gaze was shrewd. “Sabrina, you can tell me anything, you know.”

  Then tell him. Tell him! He’s not angry now. “Yes, sir, I know.”

  “Very good. You may go now,” he said, dismissing her. She curtsied and went out, closing the door behind her.

  Oliver sat at his desk, legs stretched out and eyes staring into space, for a long time. Something else was wrong, something that was bothering her, but if she wouldn’t tell him, how could he help her? God help them all when it came out, as it surely would. God help them.

  A note written in Bainbridge’s hand arrived at Reginald’s lodgings later that day. It puzzled him, until he had opened it and read it, and then he was merely angry. So, the little bitch thought to hide behind Bainbridge’s protection? Oh, no, not after last night, after what he had suffered. She would pay for that, and with more than just money. She would pay with everything she held dear. Then, when she had nothing left, she would have no recourse but to turn to him.

  His smile was chilling as he rose, note in hand, ignoring the slithering noise of a dark blue satin domino as it slipped to the floor. The note took place of honor on his mantelpiece, right next to a gilt-edged invitation to a ball to be given at Mount Street, for the occasion of the come-out of Miss Sabrina Carrick and Miss Melanie Hailey. Oh, he’d be there. Miss Carrick—or whatever her name was—would soon learn she couldn’t dispose of Reginald Hailey so easily.

  Reginald would not have been pleased if he had known of the speed with which Sabrina did dismiss him from her mind. Sometimes, late at night, she thought of him, and the horror of that evening at Vauxhall would overwhelm her again, but in truth the threat he posed to her was very slight in comparison to others she had faced in the past months. If her background became known it would be a scandal, a disgrace, but that would be nothing compared to what would happen if she were known to have spied. How she was going to get out of that situation with a whole skin was something that still eluded her.