Marriage with a Proper Stranger

by Karyn Gerrard

  * * * *

  Sabrina was beside herself with worry as each day passed. Riordan sent a short note stating that he’d departed for home—wherever that was—then to London to see his solicitor friend. The blasted man still had not given her a firm answer regarding her plan.

  “Sabrina, I am speaking to you.” Her father’s cold voice cut through her disquieted thoughts.

  Looking up from her barely touched dinner, she met her father’s disdainful gaze. “Yes?”

  “I have received word from Sutherhorne. He will be here Tuesday afternoon for a short visit. You’re to be gracious and attentive, and when he asks you to consider his suit, you are to say yes.”

  “Have you made progress with whatever poor young woman you have set your lurid sights on?” she snapped in reply.

  Her father’s neutral expression turned dangerous. She should not be poking the bear with a stick, but she neared the end of her rope. “You are becoming far too bold and outspoken. As it happens, I have made progress. A few more visits and the chit will agree to marriage, I am sure of it. I want you gone, and you’re to take that nosey maid of yours when you leave.” Her father sliced his roast beef. “Sutherhorne assures me he will be obtaining a special license in order for the marriage to take place immediately.”

  Oh, no. Sabrina stood, nearly knocking the chair to the floor. “I believe I will take a breath of air before the sun sets.” She did not wait for her father to dismiss her or even comment before she hurried to her room.

  Mary was there, placing clean undergarments in one of the bureau drawers. “Make haste, gather my cloak. I must see if Mr. Black has returned from his journey.”

  “Yes, of course, my lady.” Mary hurried to the wardrobe and fetched the gray wool cloak. “I did find out a little about the schoolmaster. I’m not exactly sure where he hails from, but his late mother was Irish, and his father works in a factory. If he owns the factory, no one is completely sure.”

  Sabrina had already guessed about the Irish part, seeing his first name was Riordan. Mary slipped the cloak over her shoulders. “The young lady your father is presently courting is the second daughter of the Duke of Carlton. Talk is, she is rather plain of features and her father is eager to marry her off.”

  The poor young woman. Sabrina had half a mind to write her and warn her away from her father, but it would jeopardize her own plans. Or would it? Once her settlement money was safely tucked away, she could drop an anonymous note. “Mary, you are a treasure. Start gathering our possessions, pack the trunk. We may be departing sooner than we’d planned.”

  “Right away, my lady.” Mary tossed her own cloak across her shoulders.

  “I do not need a chaperone.”

  “So you keep telling me, but I’m coming anyway. Let’s slip out the side door.”

  They quietly padded down the main staircase and entered the library. The oncoming dusk caused shadows to dance across the hardwood floor. Opening the French door, they clasped hands and crossed the threshold, scurrying to the wooded area that acted as a border between the baron’s land and the school.

  “His cottage is about half a mile beyond the school.”

  Mary tsked. “Let’s hope there are not any wild creatures about, my lady. I don’t like the dark, let alone the woods.”

  The last thing Sabrina worried about was roaming or feral animals. What if Riordan Black told her no? Where could she turn?

  “Speaking of wild creatures, who is that?” Mary whispered. She pointed to a large man with shoulder-length red hair unloading pieces of furniture from a flatbed wagon. “He is quite a specimen, built like a Viking of old,” Mary murmured, admiration in her tone. “All that is missing is a sword and a fur cape.”

  “How do you know what a Viking looks like?” Sabrina whispered in return.

  “I read romance adventures. You should give them a try, my lady. They are a pleasant escape from life’s vile tasks.” About to answer, her breath caught in her throat when Riordan emerged from the cottage. He laughed at something the red-haired Viking said to him, and Sabrina found herself enchanted by Riordan’s warm and friendly smile. With a confident stride, he moved to the wagon and lifted a small table onto his shoulder, then headed toward the cottage.

  “Well, my lady. I don’t believe I’ve seen you react like this to a man before, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  Sabrina schooled her features to show complete indifference, but Mary had already seen her reaction. Her face flushed. Her breath caught. She tingled all over from the glorious sight of him. Why deny it? “What am I to do? I should walk away right this minute. I have no right to find him…him…”

  “Handsome? Full of youth and vitality? Virile?” Mary interjected.

  “Mary!” she admonished in a fierce whisper. But he was everything she’d described and more. Honorable, kind, capable.

  “The young maids were right, my lady. He is lovely,” Mary murmured, laying a hand on Sabrina’s arm. “Better him than a mummified marquess. Who says this has to be temporary?”

  “Mary!”

  Her maid shrugged. “Are you going to talk to him?”

  Not if there was a stranger with him. Who could the man be—a family member? “Not tonight. Not with the Viking there. I’m to see him tomorrow during the luncheon break at the school. I will speak to him then.”

  Linking arms, they turned and headed toward the woods and the baron’s property. Sabrina sighed wistfully. Who says it has to be temporary? Mary had asked. But it must be. Keeping an icy wall about her heart had been the only way to protect herself from the constant hurt and disappointment she’d endured throughout her life.

  No man, no matter how attractive or compelling, could be allowed to breech her frosty defenses; she had spent too many years constructing the barriers. Sabrina turned and took one last longing look as Riordan exited the cottage to unload additional items from the wagon. Oh, how he fulfilled all her youthful dreams of a heroic suitor. But those foolish imaginings had disappeared years ago and had no business rearing their heads at this stage.

  She would remain resolute. Brave. No matter what he told her tomorrow she would continue to hold the reins and direct her own future. Yet a tiny part of her, a part she thought long dead, yearned for love. Ached for a man to hold her in his arms and whisper all will be well. Hungered for a man to take her to bed and show her all the ways a woman could be thoroughly satisfied and loved—for she knew nothing about it. Did not even know it existed. Except in the books Mary read.

  No one would know of her secret longings. Especially a handsome, principled schoolmaster with a sensual mouth and sky-blue eyes.

  Chapter 8

  “I thought you did not need a chaperone, my lady?” Mary asked as they hurried through the woods.

  “I do not, but if I am seen entering the school, it would be better served if someone were with me, to stem any gossip. Especially since it’s the luncheon break and he is alone.”

  “What will we do if he says no?” Mary sounded worried, and for good reason. Sabrina also remained anxious. She’d hinged her entire future on the schoolmaster, but what choice did she have? Her options were limited.

  “I shudder to think. Perhaps I can sell my jewels.” But Sabrina knew that would be a short-term fix. The money would last them a year or two if they were frugal. At least it would give them time to formulate a different plan.

  As they emerged through the cluster of junipers, the schoolhouse came into view. Sabrina’s insides fluttered nervously, not only with the pleasant prospect of seeing Riordan again, but also with concern over his decision. Making an effort to arrange her features into complete indifference, she knocked, and, not waiting for a reply, entered the structure. Riordan sat at his desk, scratching away with his pen.

  He lifted his head and smiled warmly. Her breath hitched again, and Mary squeezed her arm as if to agree. Or perhaps
it was to give her courage. Riordan stood and inclined his head. “Good day, Sabrina.” He moved out from around his desk and walked toward her.

  Mary squeezed her arm tighter and murmured for her hearing only, “Good heavens.”

  Good heavens, indeed. He was dressed all in black, and it enhanced his porcelain skin, dark hair, and attractive blue eyes. “My lady’s maid, Mary Tuttle. Mary, this is Mr. Riordan Black, schoolmaster.”

  Riordan took Mary’s gloved hand and gave her a polite bow. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Tuttle.”

  Mary flushed. “Good heavens,” she said breathlessly. “And pleased to meet you, sir.”

  Riordan let go of Mary’s hand and stood upright. “Would you mind terribly if I spoke to your mistress in private? There’s an alcove to the side with a comfortable bench, if you would not mind waiting there.”

  Mary looked to Sabrina questioningly. She nodded. As Riordan escorted Mary, Sabrina made her way to the front of the classroom and took a seat in the chair by his desk. Wringing her gloved hands, she waited nervously for his return. What would she do if he refused? With Sutherhorne arriving tomorrow, it was far too late to find another candidate. There was nothing else for it; both she and Mary would have to make a quick escape. Sabrina calculated the small amount of money she’d managed to tuck away before Pepperdon died: four pounds and ten shillings. Enough to hire a coach, to rent a small room—

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” His deep, masculine voice caused her heart to squeeze with longing. It took great effort not to show her reaction outwardly. Lord, even if he did agree, how could she keep pretending his presence did not affect her?

  “Do not leave me in suspense, Mr. Black. I must have your answer. What have you decided?”

  Riordan sat. “I thought we agreed to use first names.” He gave her another smile, making him even more attractive, drat him.

  “It isn’t proper. You should have never mentioned it,” she muttered impatiently.

  “Actually, you are the one who suggested it. Regardless, this entire situation is not proper, but here we are. There is no need to be haughty. I prefer the woman who came to my cottage after dark, sat in my parlor, and spoke from her heart.” His beautiful blue eyes twinkled. “You do have one, you know.”

  Her mouth pulled into a taut line. “No, I do not. Your decision, if you please?”

  His smile slowly slipped away, and she regretted her tone immediately as the warmth from his eyes also disappeared. “Very well, let us keep this about business. I did visit my solicitor friend, and, to be blunt, he tried to talk me out of it. Perhaps I should have listened. But in spite of his dire warning, I will assist you.”

  The overwhelming urge to cry with relief swamped her, but she bravely met his hardened gaze and murmured, “Thank you.”

  “William Chambers—he’s the solicitor friend—suggested we use the registry near his office for the temporary marriage. He has agreed to keep your settlement under his safe auspices.” Riordan’s voice was cool, officious, and she further regretted her tone. But they must keep this about business or her heart would be in danger of harboring the fires of love and longing she imagined all hearts had potential for.

  At that thought, she experienced a slight pang of melancholy, for her heart was cold, barren, and lonely. Forcing such thoughts from her mind, she asked, “What about Sutherhorne? For all I know he and my father have been corresponding. I am told nothing, except I’m to say yes to his proposal. And what grounds will we use for the annulment? And—”

  Riordan raised his hand. Sabrina inwardly bristled, for she had had enough of men trying to silence her. “Concerning the annulment: William and I deemed it best you not be told the reason. Then you can genuinely and honestly claim you knew nothing about it.”

  Her mind quickly perused the various causes he had discussed with her earlier. No. He wouldn’t. “I do not want for you to humiliate yourself over me. Truly, I sincerely appreciate that you have decided to help me, but I will not see you suffer publicly.” For once, she did not hide her emotions; there was genuine concern in her tone.

  A small smile formed about his sensual lips in response. “Ah, as I suspected. You do have a heart.” His voice was husky, and the sound of it made her breath quicken.

  “I assure you all evidence is to the contrary,” she sniffed.

  Riordan laughed, and jolts of heat cascaded down her spine. “As you say, my lady. The explanation we settled on is not one of those I mentioned last week. It is far less humiliating, I swear it.”

  “Well, we will set it aside for now. And Sutherhorne?”

  “First, where will he be staying, with you and your father?” Riordan asked.

  A chilling shudder replaced the warmth she’d felt at his sensual laugh. “Good Lord, I hope not. As I said, I’m told nothing. Seeing as my father despises visitors, I assume the marquess will be staying at the inn in town.”

  Riordan nodded. “Fine. I will pay the marquess a visit after he sees you tomorrow afternoon. I will convince him to withdraw his suit. Once he does, I will meet with your father.”

  “Withdraw? How? Let me guess: I am better off not knowing.” Huffing in frustration, she pulled off her gloves and laid them on her lap. Oh, bother, it was unconscionably hot in here. It was either the woodstove or Riordan’s compelling presence. Sabrina would lay bets on the latter.

  “For the moment, you are better off,” he replied. “I promise I will fill you in on the particulars later. I have a question for you: what will you do with your maid?”

  Sabrina’s brows furrowed and her heart dropped clear to her toes. “What do you mean?” she rasped.

  Riordan arched an eyebrow. “You have seen the cottage. There is no room for a maid. I brought furniture from my visit home, so there is even less room. There is a chaise longue in the parlor I will sleep on.”

  “Well, Mary can stay in the main bedroom with me,” she said firmly. Sabrina could not believe he was proposing this.

  He chuckled softly. “There is only one bedroom and the bed is not large enough.”

  Her first instinct was to rail and cry, throw a tantrum only a baron’s daughter and widow to an earl could possibly conjure up. She had been quite adept at them until her father beat the impulse out of her. “Mr. Black—Riordan—I cannot be parted from her. I rely on her.” Her voice trembled on the last word. In a firmer, cooler voice, she said, “I will not be without my maid.”

  Riordan arched an eyebrow. “Of course. Silly of me. However will you survive?”

  Was he mocking her? The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, but his expression was not cruel. She had no idea how to respond to this man, and it flummoxed her.

  “She was with me throughout the entirety of my horrific marriage to Pepperdon. Mary was there for me, comforting me, especially when he…never mind.” Blast it, she would not cry. “I know I’m not supposed to use her first name, but she is more than a lady’s maid. She is my friend. Indeed, my only friend. Mary is…all I have.” Now she’d revealed too much, and sounded pathetic to boot.

  Riordan reached across the desk and gently clasped her hand, causing her to gasp in surprise. A slight touch as this should not be sending such strange sensations through her body. But it did. Could this be arousal? She had no idea. “Sabrina, I was teasing you, do not distress. I would not separate you from your friend.”

  Her life had become emotionally barren, and because of that she could not even recognize an innocent, teasing remark. His thumb brushed the top of her hand and a sigh escaped her lips even though she’d tried to stem it. The pad of his thumb was calloused, no doubt from gripping a pen for hours on end. The feel of it made her skin prickle with heated awareness.

  “Call Mary into the room. We will find a solution.” His smile was warm, encouraging.

  As she called for her maid, he slowly released her hand, his fingers trailing hers. Oh, h
e was adept at that. Making an innocent touch into…more. Her senses had never been this heightened, nor had she been so aware of a man’s masculinity.

  “Ah, Miss Tuttle. Can I ask you what the baron has been paying you under his employ this past year?” Riordan asked.

  Mary looked to Sabrina, biting her lower lip. “Well, sir, he paid me five pounds when we first arrived and said it was my wages for the year. If I dared complain or mention it to her ladyship, he claimed he would turn me out without a reference.”

  “What a miserable skinflint!” Sabrina cried. “Pepperdon may have been a lot of things, but at least he paid you a decent wage of twenty-five pounds per annum.” Sabrina took a calming breath. “You should have told me.”

  Mary shook her head. “You had enough to deal with, my lady. I didn’t want to be the cause of a row with the baron. Not with his vile temper.”

  “Here is the conundrum, Miss Tuttle: not only is the cottage I live in barely room enough for two, I cannot afford to pay you twenty-five pounds per annum. Not even for three months. I assume you know of what I speak? The arranged and temporary marriage?” Riordan asked.

  Mary nodded. “I do, sir. May I say I find you extremely kind and generous for doing this for my lady?”

  “Thank you. Now, with regards to your employment…” Sabrina began to sputter, trying to form words, but Riordan kept on speaking, not paying her any mind at all. “I may be able to arrange something. You may have to stay in town, but it is less than a mile walk from the cottage. You can manage it, I’m sure?”

  Mary smiled. “I can, sir.”