Moonstruck Madness

by Laurie McBain

  “Sabrina is very proud, and you have humiliated her. She will not forget that, your grace,” Mary told him. “She intends to give all of the money she has acquired to the marquis.”

  Lucien swore beneath his breath. “The marquis is probably in France by now,” he informed Mary, who looked up startled. “I paid the marquis and the contessa a considerable sum for the honor of marrying Sabrina. What she is doing now is completely useless and putting her in unnecessary danger,” Lucien spoke angrily as he came to stand before Mary, a glint in his eyes. “Will you tell me, Lady Mary, where she is?”

  “If I knew, I would,” Mary told him honestly, “but she has so many hiding places that you will not find her until she desires it.” Mary watched the duke uncertainly, then added reluctantly, “I think we’ve another problem as well.”

  Lucien raised an eyebrow inquiringly. “Indeed? I wouldn’t have thought there could be anything else to complicate matters.”

  “There is a Colonel Fletcher who has been sent from London especially to catch Bonnie Charlie.”

  Lucien shrugged in unconcern. “Surely that poses no threat for little Sabrina? She has successfully eluded capture until now. I doubt this colonel will have any more luck than his fellow officers.”

  “I wish I could agree with you, but you see, he suspects Sabrina of being Bonnie Charlie,” Mary advised him bluntly, noting the look of worry that crossed his aristocratic features at her disclosure.

  “Why should he suspect Sabrina? No one could believe that Bonnie Charlie is a woman.”

  “Strange how coincidences can haunt you, but you see, Colonel Fletcher was at Culloden and knows that we are from Scotland. It’s another coincidence that the highwayman is Scots, too. The colonel is not a foolish man, your grace, and by putting various incidents together he has discovered our secret,” Mary told him worriedly, “and I do not know if we can trust him or not.”

  Lucien ran his finger along his scar. “He doesn’t have proof of his speculations, he only has suspicions?”

  Mary nodded, and Lucien smiled. “I think we need not worry about Colonel Fletcher, and should he get too interested in our affairs, I shall handle him,” Lucien reassured her. “But now it is vital that I find Sabrina before she embroils herself deeper into this mess.”

  “I know she will stay away at least until next week when you have to have wed her.”

  “But that no longer applies,” Lucien informed her with confidence. “I have been given a slight reprieve, which means I can outwait Sabrina.” His face looked savage for an instant as he thought of her. “The little fool, why won’t she admit defeat? She cannot win.”

  Mary shuddered as she stared at his face, for he would make a deadly enemy and a ruthless victor. Poor Sabrina. Why did her path have to cross the duke’s? She didn’t think Sabrina realized what she was up against with the duke—he would not give up until he had caught her. Mary debated with herself for an instant and then said softly, “We can get a message to her.”

  Lucien smiled. “I thought you might. How?” he demanded, his eyes glinting in anticipation.

  Mary swallowed her guilt. “We are to leave a note at the church and she will pick it up, but not until Sunday, it would appear strange otherwise.”

  “You do realize that you’ve done the right thing? The sooner we have her, the safer she’ll be. Why put off the inevitable? I’ll have my way regardless of her efforts. A pity, however, that we must wait and you must suffer my presence as your guest,” Lucien apologized dryly.

  “I think a truce would not come amiss,” Mary responded with a half-smile.

  “Agreed upon, Lady Mary,” Lucien quickly accepted, then added mockingly but with a definite warning in his sherry eyes as Richard entered the room slowly, “but I trust no more bullets will fly my way during my visit?”

  Richard flushed red to the roots of his hair as he returned Lucien’s direct gaze. “You are a guest, your grace, and will be treated accordingly,” he answered solemnly, his eyes very serious behind his glasses.

  Lucien smiled with genuine warmth. “I’ll accept your word, Lord Faver, I believe that is your title. We weren’t properly introduced, Richard, if I may, but as you are to become my brother-in-law, as indeed this whole family is soon to become my responsibility, I would prefer you to call me Lucien.”

  His smile encompassed them all, drawing them almost against their will under his influence as he set out to charm them and win them over to his point of view. Richard was caught and held by Lucien almost immediately. His young boy’s ideals of manhood seemed to be epitomized by this arrogantly handsome and friendly Duke, and never having come in contact with a domineering and awe-inspiring man before, he experienced his first taste of idolization. He stared in fascination at Lucien, who was being his most persuasive, his quick wit and easy manners taking them off guard as he settled down for his wait at Verrick House.

  ***

  Sabrina entered the warm kitchen quietly, unheard by the woman whose back was turned as she filled a plate with a succulent stew.

  “I could use some of that, Mrs. Taylor,” she said softly from the door.

  Mrs. Taylor jerked around, her face startled and the big wooden spoon raised threateningly. She pressed her hand to her pounding heart. “Lord, but you did give me a scare, Lady Sabrina. Put ten years on my life, you did.” Her eyes took in Sabrina’s boots and breeches and cocked hat. “I didn’t know you had anything planned for this evening. Will and John are at the Faire Maiden. Expectin’ them back shortly though for dinner.”

  “Nothing is planned,” Sabrina told her in a strained voice.

  Mrs. Taylor clucked her tongue. “Here now, sit down and let me give you some stew, you look close to collapsing.” She pulled out a chair for Sabrina, who gratefully sank into it, and resting her elbows on the table watched as Mrs. Taylor prepared another plate and placed it before her with a large slice of bread beside it.

  “I’m afraid it’s not fancy, just leftovers. I really do apologize, Lady Sabrina,” Mrs. Taylor said in embarrassment.

  Sabrina had eaten several mouthfuls and looking up answered sincerely, “This tastes like nectar. I’m starved and no matter what it is, your cooking is superb. Please sit down and eat.”

  Mrs. Taylor beamed with pleasure and dipping her bread in the gravy on her plate began to enjoy her dinner. They ate in silence until they heard voices and the sound of feet, and jumping up Mrs. Taylor ladled two plates full of the hot stew as Will and John entered the kitchen. They halted in surprise as they saw Sabrina sitting at their table eating stew.

  “Hello,” Sabrina greeted them calmly.

  “Charlie,” Will began, “what are ye doing here?” He looked at her outfit and added in uncertainty, “Didn’t think we had anything planned for tonight.”

  Sabrina shrugged in resignation. “I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that. I’ve been forced to flee my own home.”

  Will and John opened their mouths to speak, anger bristling in their faces.

  “That father of yours ain’t causin’ trouble, is he? We’ll teach him a lesson if he is.”

  “Aye, that we will,” John agreed, doubling up his fists at the thought.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and eat while I tell you about it. There’s no hurry, for I’m afraid he’ll still be there when you’ve finished,” Sabrina told them as they sat down. “It’s not the marquis, but our old friend the duke, who has forced his way into my home,” she paused uncomfortably, then rushed on, “and is forcing me into marriage with him.”

  “You’re going to marry the duke?” Will sputtered, setting down his mug of ale with a thud as the three Taylors stared at Sabrina’s flushed features in amazement.

  “Yes. He’s at the house now, with a letter of introduction and authority from the marquis. He is in control, and thoroughly enjoying himself,” Sabrina told them bitterly.r />
  “How is it he found you, Charlie?” Will asked, his plate of stew untouched.

  “He saw me in London. I didn’t tell you about meeting him because I didn’t want to worry you, and only told you that we needed the money because the marquis was forcing Mary and me to marry for money—which is true. Only it’s the duke they are forcing me to marry. The marquis will get a large settlement, and the duke needs a bride in order to inherit his estate—so they are both agreeable to the arrangement.”

  “The swine,” John said murderously. “Shot me and hurt you, locked up Will, and now forcing you to wed him.” He cupped his chin in his big palm as he placed an elbow on the table and asked, “He tell the marquis about us? That how he’s gettin’ you to marry him? Blackmail?”

  “Oh, Lord,” Mrs. Taylor said and poured herself a mug of ale, taking a deep swallow gratefully.

  Sabrina shook her head. “He didn’t need to resort to that, although he would’ve if he’d had too. The marquis had already planned on forcing us into marriage with any rich suitors we might have attracted, threatening to take Richard from us and throw Aunt Margaret out of Verrick House. He had a suitable son-in-law lined up when the duke interfered and ruined our chances. Because of some foolish stipulation in a will the duke must wed to inherit. His fiancée ran away from him, and so he has decided that I will replace her.”

  “Well, I never,” Mrs. Taylor said indignantly.

  “I will not be forced into marriage against my will, especially with the Duke of Camareigh, not after what he has done to us. He has humiliated me for the last time, and now he can suffer,” Sabrina vowed, gazing at the pitying faces around her. “That’s why we must get the money. You see, if we buy off the marquis, then I won’t have to marry Lucien.”

  Will and John looked at each other without speaking, then, nodding, began to eat their stew. “Don’t you worry, Charlie, we’ll help you. No one, even some fancy Duke, will force you to do something you don’t want to.”

  Mrs. Taylor patted her hand comfortingly. “You’ll stay here?”

  Sabrina shook her head. “No, it’s not safe, in fact there is hardly any place that is anymore, what with Colonel Fletcher causing trouble, too. I’ll stay in the marsh until this blows over. It won’t be long, the duke doesn’t have much time.”

  “Oh, you mustn’t, you’ll get the fever. It isn’t good, Lady Sabrina,” Mrs. Taylor argued with motherly concern.

  “I’ll be all right, Mrs. Taylor, and I’ll be inside the hut,” she reassured her, touched by her concern.

  “It won’t be for long, Charlie, we’ll see to that,” Will told her. “Damn, wish we hadn’t already bought the Faire Maiden, or we could’ve given you the money.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “I couldn’t have accepted it, but I appreciate the offer. You really are my best friends.” She stood up, sighing as she looked around the warm little kitchen. “If I could trouble you for a few things, I’ll be off.”

  “Of course. It’s a disgrace that you should have to sneak off into the night like a criminal, while some blackguard makes himself at home in Verrick House.”

  “We’ll ride along with you, Charlie,” Will stated firmly, expecting disagreement.

  “No, we’re a recognizable trio by now. I’ll be less conspicuous alone,” Sabrina said, turning them down regretfully.

  Mrs. Taylor gathered together some food and wrapped it in a large cloth. “This won’t last you long,” she told Sabrina doubtfully as she handed it to her.

  “Listen, I’ll ride over after you and bring you some blankets, and a cooking pot so you can heat up some coffee. Gotta gather you some tinder, anyway,” Will said stubbornly.

  Sabrina smiled, giving in without regret. “Thanks, I’ll appreciate the company.”

  She rode through the darkness, taking care to avoid the roads as she made her way to the marshy ground. Once at the hut she stabled her horse under the overhang, rubbing him down and placing hay that had been stacked nearby for him to feed on. Sitting in the hut listening to the night sounds off the water, the frogs croaking and splashing about, Sabrina huddled in her greatcoat, staring at the emptiness of the room. She bit her lip as she felt a rush of self-pity overwhelm her, but vowed she wouldn’t give in to it. She’d cried enough and it hadn’t helped any—tears couldn’t wash away fears or hurts. She shuddered as she heard a scampering on the roof, and then her horse neighed and stirred as another horse could be heard splashing through the water.

  Will brought two thick blankets, a coffeepot and more provisions. He quickly gathered wood, which he stacked in the corner, then started a fire in the little fireplace, which slowly began to cut through the dampness that had clung to the walls. After he left, Sabrina rolled up in one blanket and put the other under her head and drowsily stared at the flickering flames that were beginning to die. She slept fitfully, her sleep punctuated by returning nightmares that left her shaking in a sweat.

  Once during the night she got up to banish the nightmare and stood staring out the small window. Suddenly she drew in her breath sharply as she saw a shadowy form pass behind the large willow, then sighed in relief and happiness when the moon reappeared out of the clouds and shone on the figure, revealing Will as he paced quietly beside the hut. Sabrina settled down after that to sleep peacefully for the first time.

  ***

  Lucien punched his pillow and then, unsatisfied, doubled it beneath his head. He sighed deeply and rolled onto his back, locking his hands behind his head. The satin of the pillowcase was smooth against his hand, reminding him of another smooth softness under his hand. Damn her. She was the most irritating female he’d ever met, besides his grandmother. He couldn’t fathom Sabrina’s moods and he was beginning to tire of her games of hide and seek. She really should be thankful that he was even offering marriage to her. She could do a lot worse, considering the atmosphere she’d been living in these past few years. What a moonstruck family. A dreamy-eyed aunt who flitted to and fro with her spaniels, a bristling cub taking wild shots at him, and a sister with eyes that stared through you. Of course, their sire was hardly a pillar of society. He’d never seen his only son, he had left his children to fend for themselves, leaving his daughters unprotected and unchaperoned on a country estate. For that he deserved to be horse whipped. No, he really was not in the least bit surprised that Sabrina had turned out the way she had. An overbearing, obstinate little roughneck just asking for trouble—well, she had found it this time. She would have her hands full when he caught up with her, and he would eventually—it was just a matter of waiting for the right time. If he was not so pressed for time he might enjoy this battle of wits and nerves, but too much was at stake to waste time. In the back of his mind he was still troubled by the problem of Percy and Kate and the distasteful memory of having to tell Lady Staddon that he thought Blanche might have met with foul play. And yet how could he prove anything? His cousins had been so careful not to become personally implicated in their schemes that he had no evidence to tie them to the attempts on his life. And of course as there was no body, how could he prove that Blanche had indeed been murdered? He rolled over and closing his eyes tried to get to sleep, only to be haunted by a pair of violet eyes.

  The next morning he was making his way down the stairs when a soft voice spoke hesitantly, and looking around he saw a young girl standing below him in the hall.

  “Yes?”

  The girl’s eyes were drawn to his scar as she said breathlessly, “There be a person wantin’ a word with yer grace in the orchard. I’m a kitchen maid and Sims’ll have my head if’n he was to find me in here and a’talkin’ to ye.”

  She curtsied swiftly and excused herself before Lucien could ask who’d sent the message. Shrugging, he made his way outside and around to the back of the garden. A wrought-iron gate led to the orchard beyond, and opening it he winced as it squeaked protestingly and noisily. He passed through and walked int
o the orchard, the limbs of the trees heavy with ripening fruit. He looked around curiously, the only sound coming from a bird perched above him in the boughs.

  The quiet peacefulness of the orchard was disturbed by the sharp, staccato snapping of twigs, and turning toward the sound Lucien came to a halt as two familiar figures emerged from behind a couple of tree trunks.

  Lucien grinned humorlessly as he faced the two giants. “Well done, gentlemen,” he complimented them sarcastically as they approached him warily. “Have you brought me a message from Bonnie Charlie? Ah, yes, I see that you have,” he added in resignation as he became aware of their bunched fists.

  “You’ve become a bit of a problem, Duke, and we thought we might be able to change your mind about staying where you’re not wanted,” Will answered.

  “I see,” Lucien spoke softly, taking a step forward and spreading his legs, his booted feet firmly planted in the soft soil. “I take it all parties concerned are agreeable to this action of yours?”

  “If you be meanin’ Charlie, then aye, she wants you gone as well. You been treatin’ the little lady kinda rough and we owes you for my shoulder and for tying up my brother.”

  “Nice to see you again, Duke,” Will greeted him with a broad smile.

  “And you intend to scare me off, is that it, and maybe inflict a few bruises while about it?”

  Will smiled wider, and winking at John nodded his head. “You be real smart, duke. Now, we’re fair, don’t believe in ganging up on a helpless town dandy, so I’ll let my brother here have a go at you first, he owes it to you.”

  John came forward slowly, his big fists raised threateningly as he circled Lucien, who stood his ground despite the size of the approaching figure.

  John suddenly charged like a mad bull, sending his great bulk into Lucien’s slighter figure, but Lucien ducked and sent John tumbling over his shoulder to land with a thud on his back. Roaring like a bear, John rose and charged again, only to be tripped by Lucien’s outstretched boot and as he fell forward received a punch in the stomach that left him breathless as he stumbled into the ground.