“That’s wonderful, John. I sometimes wondered if we’d ever be able to live normal lives.”
“Well, since we ain’t goin’ to be out at night so much, and we got the last bit of money we needed, we figured we better buy it before old Jack changed his mind about selling, or sold it to an outsider.”
“I can’t tell you how happy I am for you and Will. You’ve helped me so much, I can’t ever repay you,” Sabrina told the discomfited giant, his face burning with an embarrassed blush.
“You know, Charlie, we’ll still look after you—and if you need us for anything you can count on us anytime,” he promised, then clearing his throat nervously added, “You sure you and your family have enough money, Charlie? I mean, well, if you was needing any, me and Will could give you some.”
Sabrina was touched by his offer of support, and regardless of any curious eyes she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, John, I’ll never forget your kind offer, but we’re fine. We’ve saved a lot of our money, and living simply we manage nicely.”
John’s face was still a bright red when he climbed back on his horse and rode off, waving as he rounded the hedgerows and disappeared from view.
Sabrina went back indoors, her light step purposeful as she made her way into the big kitchen with its large table covered with cooking utensils. Drying bunches of herbs hung from the rafters, lending a spicy scent to the blend of odors rising from bubbling plum tarts fresh from the oven and a cut of beef roasting over the fire. The cook was nodding in a chair near the hearth, her apron half full of peas to be shelled.
The young scullery maid rotating the turnspit with the roast on it nudged the cook when she saw Sabrina, a shy smile in her round eyes as she gazed in adoration at her young mistress. The cook woke up with a grumbled snort, ready to swing at the disturbance until she saw Sabrina standing nearby.
“Lady Sabrina,” she exclaimed, straightening her mobcap off her forehead and heaving her bulk from her easy chair, the peas encompassed safely in her apron she held together firmly.
“I just want to rob you of some of that gingerbread. A couple of pieces, and one for Lottie,” she added as the little girl’s eyes widened and her lips smacked at the sight of the rich gingerbread.
The cook tied her apron together, then cut several big squares from the fragrant cake, shaking her head repressively. “Lottie’ll never learn her place, Lady Sabrina, if you keep spoiling her. Already she’s got airs above her station. Next she’ll be wantin’ to wear velvet and lace.”
Sabrina smiled at the little girl. “It can’t hurt her to have one piece of gingerbread, can it?” she cajoled, smiling as she accepted the gingerbread, her dimple peeping irrepressibly. The cook’s disapproving expression relaxed a bit, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her tight mouth as she grudgingly had to admit that the Lady Sabrina had a taking way with her. Still, she’d always thought this one of the Verricks a wild one, not at all like the Lady Mary who was a proper lady.
Sabrina hurried upstairs to find Richard, the generous chunks of gingerbread crowding together on a parchment-thin china plate. She found him sitting in the schoolroom, an opened book before him as he awaited the arrival of Mr. Teesdale.
“Surprise!” Sabrina called as she held out the gingerbread enticingly before him.
Richard took a deep, appreciative breath and reached out an eager hand that unerringly guided the pieces into his mouth. Licking a crumb delicately from the corner of her mouth, Sabrina watched in amusement as he hungrily finished off his piece and then eyed hers covertly. Her smile widened and she broke off the rest of hers and handed it to him.
“Thanks, Rina,” he mumbled through a mouthful.
Sabrina strolled over to the window and stood silently staring out when she suddenly called excitedly over her shoulder, “Oh, Richard, do look! Here’s that little robin that serenaded me the other day.”
Sitting demurely on a branch of the big elm tree outside the window was a plain-looking little sparrow. Richard came up beside Sabrina and peered out the window. “Oh, yes, quite a colorful little fellow with his red breast.”
Sabrina stared at Richard’s little profile, resisting the urge to hug him to her protectively. Instead she told him calmly, “It’s a sparrow, Richard.”
Richard’s face paled and he turned an accusing face to her. “You tricked me. It’s not fair.” His thin shoulders shook and his voice was thick with tears.
Sabrina wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her, comforting him the best she could. His sobs lessened and he gave a watery hiccup.
“Why didn’t you ever tell us, Dickie?” Sabrina asked, her fingers combing his thick red hair back from his face. “I’ve been such a fool. Too busy to even notice my own brother’s needs. How long have you had trouble seeing?”
Richard sniffed and shrugged, but kept his head pressed against Sabrina’s breast. “Don’t know. Long time, I guess. I can read, though. It’s just things in the distance that are all blurred,” he confessed.
Sabrina drew in her breath sharply as a thought struck her. “Is that why you don’t like to ride, Dickie?”
She raised his tear-stained face and looked into his big, myopic blue eyes, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Dickie, I wish you’d told me. I’d have helped you. You don’t need to worry anymore, nor be ashamed of it,” she reproved him gently.
“I wanted to help you so much, Rina, but I was afraid to ride. It’s awful not to be able to see where you’re going, afraid you’re going to bump into a branch you don’t see, or fall into a bog. And when I tried to shoot, what was I going to aim at?”
Sabrina let Richard talk, all his childish fears and bottled-up emotions flooding out as he unburdened himself.
“How would you like to go to London, Dickie?” Sabrina asked him seriously.
Richard wiped at his face with a ruffled sleeve, rubbing his eyes dry as he looked at Sabrina in surprise. “Go to London?” he repeated in awe. “You mean I would go?”
“It would be especially for you. It will be your special treat. And when we’re there we’ll see about getting you a pair of eyeglasses. Do you like that idea?”
Richard lowered his head, but not before Sabrina saw his eyes light up with excitement. He gave a relieved sigh unconsciously. “You don’t think I’ll be a, well—” he began, struggling to find the words, “a sissy for wearing eyeglasses?” He looked up at Sabrina hopefully, his eyes pleading for reassurance.
Sabrina made a contemptuous sound. “Of course not. You will look quite the intellectual, and be able to see where you’re going, too. It’s most important not to fall into the gutter when we’re trying to impress the prime minister.”
Richard was laughing and jumping up and down when the stern-faced Mr. Teesdale entered the schoolroom, a look of disapproval on his severe features at this riotous display of abandon.
“I’m going to London, Mr. Teesdale!” Richard called out, his tutor’s raised eyebrow for once not having the desired effect of silencing him.
“Are we indeed?” Mr. Teesdale murmured politely, his face inscrutable beneath his gray periwig. He greeted Sabrina, and placing his books and papers in a neat stack on the table inquired, “When will this projected visit to London occur, so I may adjust my student’s schedule accordingly?”
Sabrina hid her smile and answered most seriously, “At the beginning of next week, for we’ve preparations to make and we shall probably be gone a fortnight or less. You see, Richard is to be fitted with a pair of eyeglasses.”
Mr. Teesdale showed a moment’s surprise across his usually impassive features, but quickly recovered his poise. “Quite,” was all he murmured. “I shall suitably adjust our lessons so his schoolwork will not suffer.”
Sabrina left them with Mr. Teesdale monotonously drilling Richard in mathematics, the sound droning after her as she made her way down the corridor.
She found Mary comfortably reading a book and Aunt Margaret sewing in the drawing room. They both glanced up as Sabrina entered, their faces mirroring surprise at her first words.
“We’re going to London next week.” Mary closed her book and watched Sabrina curiously. Aunt Margaret smiled vaguely and bent once more to her needlework, the spaniels at her feet snoring contentedly.
“Richard needs eyeglasses,” Sabrina stated baldly, explaining her discovery to a surprised and dismayed Mary. “I feel rotten about the whole affair. We’re the ones who need the eyeglasses for not having noticed Richard’s problem before now. Poor dear, all these years existing in a blurred world. No wonder he turned to his books. Well, that will all end now. We’ll get him proper eyeglasses so he will be able to ride and play like other young boys.”
Mary shook her head guiltily. “Some elder sister I am. When do you want to leave?”
“Monday, I should imagine,” Sabrina spoke thoughtfully, pausing for a moment before she added, “We shall have to use the town house. I suppose the marquis has a staff in residence, so there shouldn’t be any difficulty. Besides, I don’t plan on a lengthy visit. Aunt Margaret? You’ll come too?”
Aunt Margaret looked up dreamily and nodded. “Of course, dears, anything you say.”
“I’m going to see Mrs. Taylor. She has a brother in London who makes eyeglasses and she says he is very good at it, although not very rich or well-known.”
Sabrina stood up, pacing restlessly. “I think it will be good to get away for awhile, better to be away from this area for a bit.”
She was nervous and jumpy, even short-tempered at times. Mary watched her pacing with worried eyes. She was becoming quite concerned with this whole state of affairs. And now, she thought wisely, was not the time to tell Sabrina that she’d had another vision.
“Yes, I think you are right, Sabrina. It will do us all good to visit London for a bit. Do try and get back for tea, dear.”
***
Sabrina walked softly under the trees in the greenwood. The spinney was secretive and cool with only the sounds of pigeons fluttering through the branches to disturb her thoughts. In the middle of the thicket was a small, sun-dappled pool, deep and cool, reflecting the greens and blues of the sky overhead.
Quickly she removed her dress and undergarments, and slipped silently into the cool depths of the forest pool. She floated on her back, staring up into the endless blue of the sky, feeling the gentle caress of the water against her skin like a lover’s touch.
If she could only forget—but she couldn’t. Her body was a constant reminder of her lover. Her mind’s traitorous thoughts betrayed her whenever she relaxed, even though she’d worked like a demon at every little chore until she was too tired to think and would fall into bed too tired to dream.
But now, now she remembered Lucien, wanted him near her. If she could gaze into his dark eyes for just an instant, touch his firm lips with hers for just a second.
Sabrina turned over with a splash and swam back across the pool, disturbing its serenity. Climbing onto the soft grassy bank she shivered, welcoming the cool air against her body. She held her arms up to the sun in almost a worshipful fashion, her head held high as she absorbed the strength and energy from its fiery body.
She stood silently, like a forest creature, her breasts full, the nipples taut from the chill of the water that dripped in rivulets across her slim hips, and down her legs, slightly apart with her feet planted firmly, rooting her to the earth. The raucous cry of a blackbird broke her spell and, shivering, Sabrina struggled into her clothes. The magic of the forest pool had left her. She wandered back through the trees to her cart and the horse lazily cropping grass. She led him through the brambles and wild flowers back onto the path that led to the road. She had gotten the name of Mrs. Taylor’s brother in London, along with a letter of introduction from her, and now there was little to be done except to make the journey to London.
Returning to Verrick House, Sabrina entered the drawing room, anxious for tea, only to find Mary serving a scarlet-coated figure a plate full of cakes.
Sabrina stopped abruptly, then, recovering herself, continued into the room, a look of polite welcome on her features, but the accompanying smile froze on her lips as the officer stood up and turned around at Mary’s greeting.
Colonel Fletcher’s casually polite look faded as he stared at the raven-haired girl approaching him with the heart-shaped face and violet eyes as familiar to him as his own. There was no mistake in his mind who she was—and there was little doubt that she also recognized him. He could see it clearly in the wide eyes full of stunned fear frantically searching his face in disbelief.
“Sabrina, this is Colonel Terence Fletcher. My sister, Lady Sabrina Verrick.” Mary made the introduction, unaware of the undercurrents between the two people supposedly meeting for the first time.
“A pleasure, Lady Sabrina,” Colonel Fletcher spoke quietly, “and I must say I prefer our meeting today rather than the one almost five years ago. You must agree the peaceful surroundings of a drawing room are much more conducive to polite conversation than a battlefield.”
Sabrina hesitated as she tried to gather her wits, and drawing a deep breath said, “I beg your pardon, Colonel?” She gave him a quizzical look as she sat down gracefully on the settee beside a puzzled Mary. Pouring herself a cup of tea she glanced up at the silent colonel.
“I seriously doubt that we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before—and hardly under the adverse circumstances you seem to think.” She gave a disbelieving laugh. “My word, what on earth could I’ve been doing on a battlefield?”
Sabrina’s attention was caught by the rattling of Mary’s cup in its saucer as she quickly set it on the table. The colonel had heard it too, for as he took his seat, he commented idly, “Did not your sister tell you of our first meeting so many years ago?”
He selected a cake after a prolonged inspection of the assortment and settled back in his chair, his shiny black boots outstretched carelessly.
“She was little more than a child then, eleven or twelve at the most, I should imagine, and yet armed with a loaded pistol she aimed directly at my heart.”
“That is absolutely preposterous.” Sabrina spoke contemptuously.
“Is it?” The colonel shook his head. “I must admit I never expected to see you again. I even wondered if you had survived. Your grandfather’s castle was deserted when my men finally reached it, and to their immense disappointment, little remained of any value.”
He looked curiously between the two silent sisters. “Are you interested in what became of the castle, or what happened to your grandfather?”
Mary lowered her head and fidgeted nervously with a fold of her gown while Sabrina stared at the colonel angrily.
“Since you seem to have forgotten, allow me to refresh your memory, Lady Sabrina. I’ve forgotten very little of that day. The death and destruction on the battlefield. Your grandfather’s bloodied body. That little hut where he breathed his last breath. You do realize that it isn’t always possible to bury the dead, especially the enemy’s dead. A pity, but—”
“Stop it!” Sabrina said, her eyes blazing furiously. “I wish I’d killed you that day. Who would’ve believed you’d one day walk into the drawing room of Verrick House?”
Colonel Fletcher did not feel triumphant at her confession. In fact, he felt rather disgusted at himself, but he wanted to know why she denied being in Scotland.
“Why not admit that you were in Scotland? There is no crime in that.”
Sabrina shrugged. “Why bring up the past? Although we are English, we were raised by my Scots grandfather. We loved him dearly, so why should I want to remember that day, Colonel?” Sabrina explained. “We came to England after that and began to set up a new life here at Verrick House. When we arrived in London it was far wiser, and safer, not to admit t
o having Scots blood in our veins. The crowds weren’t too friendly to their northern neighbors at that time. It was convenient for us to forget and we have, so you will forgive me if I don’t greet you with open arms and affection,” Sabrina told him bitterly. She stood up and facing him unflinchingly added, “As far as I am concerned, you and your men murdered my grandfather. I don’t need your accounting of that day to remember his death. The blood of my grandfather stained my hands, Colonel. Do you really think I could forget that?”
Sabrina looked down at her hands, seeing it all again, and then up into the gray eyes she’d stared into only once before. “Was he decently buried?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Colonel Fletcher answered abruptly, disturbed by the look on her face.
“I suppose you are responsible for that, and were I civilized I would thank you, but I just can’t quite bring myself to do it. If you’ll excuse me now,” Sabrina said, and without a glance at either person left the room.
Mary sat as though turned to stone and stared into her cup at her tepid tea.
“It is tragic that some of the scars we receive in war are inside of us and not visible. You can seldom treat them, so they fester and don’t heal,” Colonel Fletcher said, looking at Mary’s closed face.
“Your sister was just a little girl when she experienced what even hard-bitten soldiers like myself are sickened by. Because of the hurt she felt then, she has prejudiced herself against any other viewpoint, especially that of an English soldier who was there as well.”
Mary stood up, her head lifted proudly as she turned to Colonel Fletcher. “If you will excuse me, Colonel, I must see to my family now. I truly think it wisest if you do not visit Verrick House again.”
Colonel Fletcher’s mouth tightened, but he bowed his head in agreement. “As you wish, Lady Mary. I do not wish to intrude where I am not wanted. Good afternoon to you.”
He picked up his hat and gloves and walked swiftly from the room, his back military-straight. Mary sank back down on the edge of the settee, her lips trembling. What more could happen? She had foolishly thought their troubles were over, but were they? Then, squaring her shoulders, she went in search of her sister, finding Sabrina in her room nervously pacing as she chewed her lower lip. She looked up expectantly as Mary entered. “Has he gone?” she asked. “God, I never thought to see his face again.”
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