by Candace Camp
“No, I am sure not. I hope you will not think I hold Alexander in disregard. He seems a good man, and he’s clearly concerned about you. One could hardly ask for anyone to be more kind or generous than he and his family have been.” She paused, the same small lines beginning between her brows.
“But...” Sabrina said, her tone making the word a question. “You seem to have some reservations.”
“I don’t understand why you were reluctant to go with Mr. Dearborn and Peter last night. You seemed... You seemed frightened. And I get the impression Alexander is quite set against them. Do you really think that you ran away from Mr. Dearborn?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps it’s just the fact that I don’t know anything that frightens me. But you wouldn’t say that I am the sort of person to run away on a whim or to create a stir, would you? To dress up in disguise and jump on a train to London?”
“No! Not at all. You’ve always been shy, as I’ve said, and, well, even timid, I suppose. And you’ve never wanted to visit me in London.”
“Then it would follow, wouldn’t it, that it must have been something quite out of the ordinary for me to have done this?”
“Yes, it would seem so.” Lilah’s face was troubled.
“I bought two different tickets. I believe it was to make it appear that I might have gone somewhere other than London. I can’t help but think I was running away from something. And if I was living with the Dearborns, then...”
“Yes, it would seem you were escaping. But are you sure it was from the Dearborns? It’s so hard to believe—we’ve known them all our lives. Could...could someone have abducted you and you escaped from them?”
“Why would anyone abduct me?”
“I don’t know. There is the, um, obvious thing, of course.” Lilah gave her a significant look.
“Oh.” Sabrina felt her cheeks warm up.
“Aside from that,” Lilah went on quickly, “I believe you are something of an heiress. You inherited your father’s entire estate, after all. I’ve no idea how much that is, but I believe he had various investments, and there are the two houses, of course, your home and the one here in London.”
“Did I live here? In the London house? Could I have been meaning to go live there?”
“I suppose you could have decided to, but as far as I know you never lived here. You grew up at Carmoor. Your father came to London on business and sometimes your mother did as well, but I don’t believe she was as fond of the city as your father was. He loved all the libraries and bookstores, of course.”
Sabrina nodded. It made her feel better to know that the house that had seemed so unknown to her was, in fact, not a place she should recognize or feel at home in. “Lilah...do you believe that I’m married to Peter Dearborn?”
Lilah was quiet for a moment, then said slowly, “That is what Peter told me last night. We exchanged greetings, and then he said something like I must congratulate him, that you had consented to marry him. I thought he meant you were engaged, but when I asked the date, he said, no, you had already gotten married. He didn’t say when exactly.”
“Do you think it’s true?”
Lilah shifted, looking uncomfortable. “You believe Peter and Mr. Dearborn are lying?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel anything for Peter. Well, that’s not true—I felt something, but it wasn’t a good feeling. I was uneasy when he was there, and I didn’t want to go with him.”
“I suppose he would have seemed a stranger, since you cannot remember him.”
“Yes, but so did you, and I liked you. I trusted you. Nor was I frightened by Alex, whom I had never met. Tell me this—were you surprised when Peter told you we were married? Had you thought we were likely to?”
“Yes, I was surprised, a little. It seemed very sudden, and I wondered why you hadn’t written me about it. But maybe that was more because I felt a little hurt that you hadn’t confided in me. It would not be unusual, I suppose, for you and Peter to have developed strong feelings for one another, living in the same household as you have for the past four years. Still, I’ve never seen anything to indicate that you were attracted to him or that you felt anything more for him than I did—the affection of a friend whom one has known for many years. You didn’t mention any particular regard for him, even when we were talking about the headmistress’s nephew, whom all the girls admired.”
“Did we really?” Sabrina giggled.
“Oh, yes.” Lilah grinned. “In our defense, he was very good-looking—dark-haired and brooding. In retrospect, I think he was probably just sulking because he didn’t like to visit his aunt, but at the time we found him quite Byronic.”
“It seems likely that I would have told you if I had developed a tendre for Peter—or written you.”
“Yes. You wrote me about all sorts of things.”
“What things?”
“Oh...you talked about being excited at receiving a book you’d ordered or that you were bored or feeling a bit blue. In your last letter, you wished you could see the ball gowns I’d described. That was why I invited you to visit me. I had mostly given up trying to persuade you to visit, but your letter sounded so...I don’t know, restless, maybe even unhappy. I’m not sure—the only thing you specifically mentioned, though, was disliking the new gowns Mrs. Dearborn had bought you.”
“Then I didn’t like that gown I had in my case,” Sabrina said triumphantly. “I wondered why I had chosen such a fussy dress.”
“Mmm. Mrs. Dearborn does love ruffles and ribbons and bows, I fear. You thought they looked too schoolgirlish—‘like a baby’ is how I believe you described it. But, of course, you couldn’t refuse, for it would hurt her feelings, and she had been so kind to you.” Lilah hesitated, then said, “When Peter told me you had agreed to marry him, I worried that perhaps you had done so for the same sort of reason.”
“Am I so weak? That I would marry rather than hurt Mrs. Dearborn’s feelings?”
“No, not weak, but I know you feel a great sense of obligation toward the Dearborns. And their very kindness often makes it difficult to say no. I am sure you are closer to Peter than I am, having lived in the same household for almost four years now. It would be easy enough to believe that such affection could be love, especially if you dreaded hurting him...well, all of them, really.” Sabrina stared at her in consternation, and Lilah looked away. “I’m sorry. I—” She stopped abruptly, her gaze fixed on the window. “Sabrina...”
Sabrina, following her gaze, jumped to her feet. “It’s the Dearborns. They’ve come after me!”
Chapter Sixteen
“WE AREN’T GOING to the kitchen really, are we?” Con asked as he and Alex started down the hallway.
“No. I got the impression you didn’t wish to speak in front of the ladies.” Alex turned into the smoking room. “Tell me the real reason you came back.”
“I’m not sure, really. I thought you might be having a problem.”
“You had a twin moment?”
Con frowned. “Not exactly. It wasn’t the way it is when you’re in trouble, like the time you were set upon by those ruffians at Oxford.”
Alex’s eyes lit. “That was quite a mill.”
Con grinned back. “It was, wasn’t it? But that’s not the point. What I’m saying is, my feeling yesterday wasn’t like that. It was just a nagging unease. I didn’t even realize it was about you until yesterday, and I couldn’t get a train past Bath until this morning. I was worried I would be late. Then I get here and find you having tea with Miss Blair and Lilah Holcutt...who is, admittedly, enough to cause one alarm.”
Alex chuckled. “I noticed there was no love lost between you and the lovely Miss Holcutt.”
“The ‘lovely Miss Holcutt’ is a prig,” Con said flatly. “Surely you must have noticed. Though obviously it’s Miss Blair you’ve your eye on. Who is Miss Blair, anyway?
Is she the reason for your turmoil?”
“I’m not in any turmoil.” Alex flopped down in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace, and Con settled into the seat across from him. “It’s Miss Blair who’s in a fix. And, well, I guess that means I’m in a fix, as well. It’s the damnedest thing, Con. I knew she was in trouble, just the way you and I do. I was sitting there in your office after you left the other day, and I felt this sensation of fear, even panic, and confusion.”
“Are you serious?” Con stared. “My God, Alex, what did you... How did you... Did you know who she was? What she looked like?”
“No, nothing like that.”
His brother nodded. “I understand. It’s simply there—inside your chest, really, more than your brain.”
“Exactly. I couldn’t have known who she was—she didn’t even know herself. She’d lost her memory.”
Con frowned. “Are you sure she wasn’t having you on?”
“I thought the same thing, but it was real.” He related their meeting and everything that had happened since then, from Sabrina’s bruises and their suspicions, to breaking into the empty house.
“Blast!” Con said feelingly. “I wish I’d been there. What a time to take off to Cornwall.”
“You’d have enjoyed it. Yesterday evening we met Miss Holcutt. She is the one who told us everything we know about Sabrina.”
“Con! I thought I heard your dulcet tones,” said a deep voice from the doorway, and the twins turned to see their eldest brother. Theo blanched when Con rose from his chair and turned to face him. “Good Gad, Con! What the devil are you up to—selling quack elixirs?” As Con started to answer, Theo waved it aside. “No. I think I’d rather not know.” He came to stand beside them and propped his elbow on the mantel. “What are you two discussing? The contretemps last night, I assume.”
“What contretemps?” Con asked. “Alex...I thought you said you weren’t in trouble.”
“We hadn’t really gotten that far,” Alex said. “And I’m not in trouble. Last night we ran into Miss Holcutt at Mrs. Dalhousie’s gala—you know how many people are at those. She recognized Sabrina and told us that Niles Dearborn was Sabrina’s guardian. And at that moment, Peter Dearborn shows up with his father saying Peter is married to Sabrina.”
“Married! She’s married?” Con’s eyebrows vaulted upward.
“That’s the contretemps,” Theo offered.
“The devil of it is that none of us know whether she’s married or not. All we have is Peter Dearborn’s word for it.”
“Well, there are times when haste is necessary,” Con began but stopped short at the flash of fury in his twin’s eyes. “Um, obviously not the case here.”
“She doesn’t trust him,” Alex said forcefully. “She’s frightened of him. If she is married to him, I don’t think it’s of her own volition.”
“You think he forced her?”
“Someone hit her. You didn’t see the bruises on her face.” Alex touched his own forehead and cheek, demonstrating the size of the marks. “It’s possible she was in some sort of accident, but the only bruises were on her face and a few on her arm—the size of fingertips.”
“Bloody hell.”
“My thoughts, exactly.” Alex leaned forward, looking at his brother searchingly. “You know Miss Holcutt. Do you think she could be in league with the Dearborns? It seems very fortuitous that all three of them showed up at the same time. Sabrina trusts her and is certain she’s a good friend, but I can’t help but wonder...”
Con let out a short bark of laughter. “Miss Holcutt? That woman’s incapable of even bending the rules, let alone being involved in something devious. She’s bloody beautiful, of course—hard to believe anyone with hair like that could be so prim and proper and stiff as a board, but she is. If these men suggested she join them in a conspiracy, no doubt she would have slapped them.”
Theo let out a bark of laughter. “Sounds to me as though you’ve had some experience in that regard.”
“Trust me, I have.” Con glowered at the memory. “Once, after we’d danced, I took her out on the terrace. I should have known—it was deuced difficult to persuade her to do even that. When I suggested we stroll through the garden, the woman slapped me! I hadn’t even tried to kiss her, but you’d think I’d ripped open her bodice. She said she knew my reputation, knew I was a roue. Which isn’t true! You know I’d never seduce an innocent. I wouldn’t have laid a finger on her...well, perhaps a finger, or two... But you know what I mean.”
“Terrible.” Alex smothered a smile. “I’m surprised you survived the embarrassment.”
“Oh, shut up.” Con gave in and laughed. “Anyway, the long and short of it is that Miss Holcutt is a prissy bore, but she wouldn’t lie.”
“That is the conclusion I was reaching, as well.” He sat back with a sigh.
“So what are you thinking? What are we going to do to protect Miss Blair?” Con asked.
Alex smiled faintly. He had known that whatever was happening, Con would be his ally, but it was nice to hear, anyway. “I’m not sure. If it comes down to it, if Dearborn is her husband and he hit her, I’ll sneak her out of the country, where he cannot find her. But—”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Theo interjected. “You need to set Tom Quick on finding out if there’s a record of their marriage.”
“I already did. Also the Dearborns’ finances.” Alex looked at Con. “He says you’re better at that sort of thing.”
“He’s right. I’ll—”
He was interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps in the hall, and a moment later Sabrina burst into the room, Lilah on her heels. “They’re here. Mr. Dearborn and Peter are here.”
“The devil,” Theo said.
Alex stood up, a lethal smile spreading across his face. “Good. I’m looking forward to having another conversation with those two.”
“Alex...” Sabrina said with trepidation. “What are you planning to do?”
“Just talk,” he said easily. “Theo and Con and I. I’ll tell them you’re indisposed.”
“No. I should be there, too.”
“You want to talk to them?” Alex asked.
“Not really,” Sabrina admitted. “But I should anyway. It’s my life, my future. I’m not going to hide and let you take care of it.”
“Of course not. But I want to show these men that they cannot just come here and demand to see you. I won’t have them popping in all the time, badgering you and trying to drag you away.”
“Tell them she’s left,” Con suggested. “You’ve no idea where she went.”
“Good idea.” Alex glanced at his twin, and identical smiles flashed across their faces. He turned back to Sabrina. “Maybe that will throw them off your trail. Without you and Miss Holcutt there, they may be freer with their story. Once they’ve set it, we can go about disproving it.”
“What if you can’t?”
Alex shrugged. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“Sir?” The butler paused in the doorway. “There are two men here.” He cleared his throat in a way that signified his disapproval of the visitors. “Mr. Niles Dearborn and Mr. Peter Dearborn. They demand to speak to the duke.”
“Now, there’s a picture,” Con murmured.
“And your reply, Phipps?” Alex asked.
“I told them to wait in the entryway while I saw if His Grace would receive them,” Phipps said repressively.
“Good man.” Theo turned to his brothers. “What do you think?”
“I think it would serve them right to speak with Father,” Alex said in an amused tone.
“And the duchess,” Con added.
“Lord, yes,” Theo agreed. “I believe I’ll let Megan know, as well.”
“Very well, then. Phipps, let them cool their heels in the entry
way for a bit.”
“Of course, sir.” The butler looked affronted that Alex should think he had to instruct him to dampen the pretensions of their visitors.
“Then go tell Father that they’re here to see him. You may have to stress the urgency. Oh, and seat the Dearborns in the formal drawing room.”
“Very good, sir.” Phipps bowed and left, looking quite pleased with his mission.
“You’re putting them in there with the first duke staring down at them?” Con grinned. “That should take the starch out of them—whatever remains after dealing with Phipps, of course.”
“That’s the idea.” Alex turned to Sabrina. “Now, Sabrina, if you and Miss Holcutt—”
“Alex,” Sabrina said firmly. “I understand what you want to do, but I want to hear what they say. I have to know what’s happening.”
“Yes, I know, and I had a thought. That’s the reason for putting them in the formal drawing room.”
“Ha!” Con said gleefully. “Old Edric’s peephole!”
“Old who?” Sabrina asked as Lilah said, “What?”
“Edric Moreland, our great-grandfather. Or was it great-great? Anyway, the one who built this place,” Alex explained.
“The person who wanted the sultan’s room?” Sabrina asked.
“Exactly. He was a bit of a nutter, and he had this obsession that people talked about him behind his back.”
“Which they probably did,” Con added, “given that he was a bit of a nutter.”
“Edric had a small window put in the room that lies on the other side of the drawing room, with a decorative wooden screen to hide it. He used to sit in the other room and listen to what his guests said when he wasn’t around.”
“Our grandfather used to converse with callers from behind the screen, I’m told,” Theo added. “Because of his fear of getting sick. But no one’s used it in years.”
“We did,” Alex confessed, and Theo laughed.
“Of course you did.”
“But the conversation was always so deadly dull, we gave it up,” Con added.