by Candace Camp
“It strikes me as peculiar,” drawled an American voice, “that a woman’s husband wouldn’t have noticed before now that she had lost her memory.”
Sabrina glanced over, surprised to see that Rafe had taken up a place on the other side of Alex, his relaxed posture and faint smile somehow conveying a threat. Kyria was next to him, her sharp eyes going from Alex to the Dearborns, then to Lilah. A quick glance to Sabrina’s other side showed Theo and Megan walking up, as well. She realized that the Morelands were drawing around her to protect her, and the thought warmed her, melting away the cold core of fear.
“Or that she was missing for two weeks,” Alex added drily.
Mr. Dearborn glanced at Rafe, then Theo and Megan. “That is easily explained. Sabrina and Peter were in a carriage accident. Peter was knocked out, and when he came back to consciousness, Sabrina was gone. We had no idea what had happened to her.”
“I see. So naturally you decided to go to a party,” Alex said.
Anger flashed in Dearborn’s eyes, and Peter jumped in and said, “It wasn’t like that. We’ve been looking for her all over. We only just got to London. We thought perhaps Sabrina had come to see Miss Holcutt. Her butler said Miss Holcutt was here.”
“So you were not in London when you mislaid Miss Blair?”
“Her name is Mrs. Dearborn.” Peter’s jaw clenched.
“She belongs at home,” Peter’s father said gravely. “Doubtless Sabrina cracked her head in the accident—that’s why she doesn’t remember who she is. I’ve no idea how she wound up here with you, but she is not your responsibility. She clearly needs medical attention, and I intend to take her home and get a doctor for her.”
“I don’t want to go home with you.” Much as she appreciated Alex and the other Morelands coming to her defense, Sabrina decided it was time for her to speak up herself. “Whatever you say, I don’t know you, and I don’t want to leave with you.”
“Sabrina...dear girl.” Dearborn’s voice turned avuncular. “You’re not yourself. You must be reasonable. I only want to help you.”
“No.” She turned toward Alex, feeling a little panicked. Dearborn sounded so rational and she suspected that she sounded more like a recalcitrant child. What if the Morelands agreed with him? “Alex, I don’t want to live with them.”
“Don’t worry. You shan’t. I’m sure Mr. Dearborn doesn’t want to cause you any further distress.” He turned to the other man, his eyes hard. “Do you, sir?”
“Of course not.” His smile was more a baring of teeth. “But she will feel much better when she is at home, where she is among familiar things, people she knows.”
“She is familiar with us,” Alex told him flatly. “I am sure you would not wish to force her to do something she doesn’t want to. Something that would cause her further distress. We all want what’s best for Sabrina, don’t we?”
“Of course. Of course. But what is best for Sabrina is a matter that should be decided by her husband,” Dearborn insisted.
Alex’s fists clenched at his sides, and Sabrina laid a hand on his arm. Kyria swept forward, moving between Alex and Mr. Dearborn. She gave him a brilliant smile and, raising her voice, gushed, “My dear Mr. Dearborn, you simply must let Sabrina continue her visit at Broughton House. The duke and duchess have grown so fond of her. Why, just the other day, my father was telling Lord St. Leger that she brightens up the day for him. And, of course, she has become just like a sister to the marchioness.”
Kyria paused, then turned toward Megan, who gazed back at her blankly and said, “Who... Oh! Yes. Yes, indeed, just like a sister. Isn’t that right, Theo?”
“Indeed. I say, sir, I believe we haven’t been properly introduced. I am the Marquess of Raine.” Theo stepped forward to shake Dearborn’s hand. “Please allow me to introduce my wife, the marchioness, and my sister the Lady Kyria. And this is Lady Kyria’s husband, Mr. McIntyre.”
“No title.” Rafe flashed his charming grin and stepped forward to pump the man’s hand, as well.
“Ah, but in America, you’re the silver king, aren’t you?” Theo said jovially. He and Rafe were now flanking Alex, and Kyria dropped back to loop an arm around Sabrina’s waist.
“Rafe, dearest, I believe it’s time we took Sabrina home. She’s looking a trifle peaked, I’m afraid.” She flashed another smile at the Dearborns. “It was a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.”
“Of course, darlin’.” Her husband moved to Sabrina’s other side, and they started away, the other Morelands falling in behind them.
“Wait!” Peter snapped, moving to intercept them. “You can’t do this. Sabrina is my wife—she belongs to me. You cannot keep her from me.”
“She belongs to you?” Kyria said with an ice that was worthy of the duchess. She drew herself up to her full height, which was a good inch taller than Peter Dearborn, and stalked toward the man.
“You mean, like your hat or your horse?” Megan asked.
“Oh, dear,” Rafe murmured in an amused voice.
“Yes, I fear the man is in for it now,” Theo agreed.
Alex turned to his brother and brother-in-law. “I’m going to take Sabrina home now, while the Dearborns are under direct fire from Kyria and Megan. You’ll stay to support the ladies?”
“I don’t imagine they’ll need any support,” Rafe replied, grinning. “But we’ll enjoy the show.”
“I’ll send the carriage back.”
“No need to hurry, son, I suspect we’ll be here awhile.”
Alex offered Sabrina his arm, but she held up her hand. “Just a moment.” She looked around and found Lilah Holcutt standing at the edge of the rapidly growing audience of partygoers. Sabrina slipped over to her.
“Sabrina, I don’t understand,” Lilah said. “What is happening?”
“I’m not sure. But, please, will you call on me tomorrow? I’m at Broughton House. Do you know it?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
Sabrina smiled and turned back to take Alex’s arm. They wound their way through the knot of people as the voices rose behind them until Megan’s American voice rang out above the hubbub. “A woman is not property, Mr. Dearborn! Just because you hold antiquated, inhuman notions—”
Alex grinned at Sabrina, and they ran up the steps and out the door.
Chapter Fourteen
ALEX CHUCKLED AS he handed Sabrina up into the Moreland carriage. “I’m sure Mr. Dearborn had no idea what he was getting into.” He climbed in after her. The carriages were all jumbled in together, as was common at a large party. It would take some time before they were able to get away. Alex didn’t mind; a quick glance around assured him no one had followed them, and the thought of spending extra time in the carriage alone with Sabrina appealed.
“I’m so sorry. I ruined that poor woman’s party and landed Kyria and Megan right in the middle of this mess.”
“Believe me, Kyria and Megan are thoroughly enjoying themselves. And I am sure the hostess will be thrilled. Nothing makes a party the talk of the town like a good fight.” Alex turned to Sabrina. His body was still humming with energy from the confrontation, but concern for Sabrina overrode even that. “It was you I was worried about. I thought you were about to faint back there.”
“It was a near thing, I’ll tell you. When he said—” She stopped, tears threatening to overcome her voice.
Alex took her hand and squeezed it. “It will be all right. Don’t worry.”
“How can I not?” Sabrina cried. “Oh, Alex, what if I am married to him?”
“All we have is his word for it. I don’t trust the man—either of them. You’ll notice he said nothing about being married to you until after Miss Holcutt mentioned you don’t remember anything. Safe enough thing to say then.”
“I didn’t recognize any of them,” Sabrina said softly. “Not even Miss Holcutt.”
&n
bsp; “You’ll notice that neither did she tell you what bosom friends you are until after learning your memory was gone.”
“Alex, no! Surely you don’t suspect Miss Holcutt.”
“She was certainly quick to tell the Dearborns your memory was gone...just as if she were letting them know they would be free to make up anything they wanted.”
“No, don’t say that. I asked her to call on me tomorrow—she will be able to tell me all about myself.” She paused, considering, then shook her head. “No, I cannot believe that she wishes me any harm. I immediately liked Miss Holcutt. I felt comfortable with her. My feelings about the Dearborns were just the opposite.”
Alex smiled down into her face, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. He intended to reserve judgment on Lilah Holcutt, but there was no need to dampen Sabrina’s pleasure at finding a friend. “Very well, I’ll give you Miss Holcutt. I had no feeling, really, about her, other than I got the sense she was the one who wrote you that letter you had in your pocket. However, I definitely did not like the Dearborns. Even if he hadn’t claimed to be your husband, I wouldn’t have liked them.”
“Don’t you think—Alex, wouldn’t I recognize my own husband?”
“One would hope. The fact is, the whole thing could be a tissue of lies. We don’t even know if it’s true that his father is your guardian.”
“Oh, Alex!” Sabrina’s hand tightened on his, and her eyes were suddenly swimming with tears. “If he is my guardian, then that means that my parents are gone. I don’t even know them, and now they’re lost to me.”
“Sabrina...” Alex’s chest tightened unbearably at the sight of her tears, and he could not keep from reaching out and pulling her into his arms. He laid his cheek against her head and held her, his hand stroking up and down her arm soothingly. “I’m so sorry.”
“I knew... Last night I knew he must be dead when you told me the owner of that house had not been back there in years, but I hoped. I really hoped. But now... I’m so alone. I don’t even know myself.”
She began to sob in earnest. Alex felt helpless; all he could do was hold her. He wished he could take her pain himself; it would be far easier, he thought, than watching her suffer.
“Shh, there now.” He kissed her hair and murmured meaningless words of comfort, tightening his arms around her as if he could protect her from her sorrow. When after a moment, her sobs began to quiet, he said, “You’re not alone. You have me. You have my family.”
Sabrina sniffled and he could feel her smile against his chest.
“They were very kind to gather around us tonight.”
“They’re my family,” Alex said simply. “If I need help, they’ll be there. They have taken you under their wing, as well. Even if they had not, they wouldn’t countenance unfairness or coercion. I’ve no doubt when Mother hears about this, she’ll be ready to stand guard at the gate.”
Sabrina smiled faintly. “I can just imagine the duchess doing that.”
“There’s nothing she likes like a good fight. Megan’s just like her that way. If Theo hadn’t married Megan, I believe Mother would have adopted her.”
“Mmm. Kyria doesn’t seem like much of a pacifist, either.”
“Good Lord, no. She’s not one who looks for a fight, but if anyone threatens her or hers, she’s a tiger.”
They rode in silence for a moment. Alex knew that he should unwrap his arms from around Sabrina, should set her aside. Holding her had become more pleasure than comfort. It was wrong of him. Much as he hated to admit it, it was all too possible that she was married to another man. And whatever she felt about that man right now, if and when she recovered her memory, she might very well remember, too, that she loved the bastard.
But he could not let her go, however much he could feel his blood heating, however unwise it was. He wondered how long it would take the carriage to reach the house. Hopefully it would be a very long time. Perhaps they might run into another tangle of traffic.
Sabrina’s thoughts were obviously in another place than his, for after a moment she said, “I have put your family in a terrible position. If he is right, if I’m married to him, you would be in trouble for keeping me from him. All your family would. I couldn’t bear that.”
“Believe me, the Morelands need no help to get into trouble.”
She frowned, sitting up and moving away a bit. “I think I should leave.”
“What? No!” Alex took both her hands in his. “Listen to me. Don’t worry about the Morelands, least of all me. I’ve gotten into and out of more scrapes than you can imagine. You stay right here at Broughton House. I promise you—whoever the Dearborns are, whatever has happened, whatever will happen, I will not let them hurt you. I won’t let them take you, and neither will anyone else in my family.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips, more promise than passion. “Do you believe me?”
Sabrina smiled up at him. “Yes, I believe you.” She nestled against him, his arm sliding naturally around her shoulders. “I’ll stay.”
Without thought, Alex bent and kissed her again. And this kiss was all passion. Sabrina twined her arms around his neck, pressing her body into his, and for a moment Alex could think of nothing but her mouth and his need. He kissed her deeply, all the desire of the evening flaring up in him again. His hand moved over her, caressing her soft curves, and she let out a quiet moan.
At that sound, all coolness and reason, all thoughts of right and wrong, fled his brain. Alex didn’t care that she might be married, didn’t care that he was not acting the gentleman. All he could think of was carrying Sabrina away somewhere and making love to her. His hand slipped inside her dress, finding and caressing her breast, the nipple prickling beneath his touch. His mouth moved down her neck, and Sabrina’s head fell back, offering her soft throat to him.
Suddenly the cessation of movement and the coachman’s voice calling to the team pierced the fog of Alex’s desire. The carriage had stopped. He felt the coach shift a little under the weight of the coachman climbing down from his seat. In another moment, one of the footmen would reach them and open the door.
Letting out a groan of sheer frustration, Alex released Sabrina. She simply stared at him for a long moment, her eyes wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her mouth so rosy and soft from their kisses that it was all Alex could do not to pull her back to him.
“We’re home.” His voice came out a croak, and he cleared his throat. “I... Sabrina, I—”
“No,” she told him breathlessly, breaking from her trance. She turned away and straightened her dress. “Don’t. Please don’t say you’re sorry.” She drew a breath and faced Alex as a footman swung the carriage door open and stepped back. Her eyes were bright, her voice low but fierce as she told him, “Because I’m not. I’m not sorry at all.”
Sabrina scrambled out of the carriage and hurried into the house, leaving Alex behind, watching her.
* * *
ALEX SET OUT to see Tom Quick first thing the next morning. He had had a difficult time sleeping the night before and had finally given up and gotten dressed when the sun crept through the curtains. Downstairs, even before the servants had laid out breakfast in the dining room, he cadged a cup of tea and some biscuits from the cook and headed out to find Quick. Now more than ever, he wanted to learn what Tom had found in the city records, and he had no desire to wait for Con’s employee to call at Broughton House. When he did not find Tom at the agency, Alex went on to the man’s rooms, only a few blocks away. Tom answered the door in his shirtsleeves, hair uncombed, a cup of the strong coffee he favored in his hand.
“Hello, guv,” he greeted Alex cheerfully. “You’re on the march early this morning. Want a cup of coffee?”
“That tar you brew? No, thank you.”
“Come in and sit while I do. I’m no good ’til I’ve had at least one cup.”
“
I’m tempted to say you’re no good then, but you left me too easy an opening.”
“Aye, well, I’m off my game this early,” Tom said as he led Alex into his small kitchen. “I’m guessing you want to know what I found out yesterday. I was going to tell you first thing.”
“I know. But I was up early, and I want to know now. To whom does that house belong?”
“Sabrina Lilian Blair, minor,” Tom said, as if quoting. “But under the guardianship of a Niles Dearborn until she reaches majority.”
“Next month.” Alex dropped down into the seat across the table from Tom with the ease of long familiarity.
“I wouldn’t know about that. It was formerly owned by one Hamilton Blair, who died on... Hang on, I’ve got the date jotted down.” He started to rise.
“Never mind. I don’t need the exact date.”
“So, figuring you’d want to know about Hamilton Blair, I went to the probate records and looked up his will. He left a small portion and a life estate in Carmoor—that’s a house in Somerset somewhere—to his wife, Claudia, and the rest of his estate, which appears to be mostly in funds, to his only daughter, Sabrina Lilian Blair.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to be terribly surprised by this news.”
“I was expecting something like this. We ran into Niles Dearborn last night and he claimed to be her guardian.”
“Oh. Problem solved, then.” Tom paused. “Isn’t it?”
“Dearborn and I don’t see eye to eye. He seems less interested in helping Sabrina than in getting her back into his clutches.”
“You think he’s the bloke that hit her?”
“I think it’s probable.” Alex set his jaw. “I don’t mean to let him do so again.”
“’Course not.”
“Anything else of value?”
“I looked up the wife, just to make sure, and she died almost four years back. She, too, left everything to her daughter with this Dearborn as guardian of the estate and the girl. Of course, the life estate in the country house went back to Miss Blair.” He shrugged. “That was all I had time for before the offices closed. I planned to start looking into Niles Dearborn today, see what was what with him.” He looked at Alex. “I’m thinking maybe you still want to do that?”