by Ruth Owen
Gently, he took her hand, and placed it over his heart. Then he straightened his shoulders, looking every inch the stern, commanding lord as he said, “Prudence, would you do me the honor…the very great honor—”
“Aye, I’ve found ‘em!”
Duffy’s cry shattered the tender moment. A minute later Sabrina and the earl were overrun by a swarm of well-meaning servants, stablehands, and laborers, all determined to assist Lord Trevelyan back to the manor house, whether he wanted to go or not. In the end Edward gave up gracefully, casting just one exasperated look at the woman beside him before he allowed the men carry him down the slope to the wheelchair waiting below.
Sabrina did not follow. She lingered at the cliff’s edge and stared out at the distant horizon, her heart too full for tears. What had started out as a simple masquerade had spun far out of control. She’d fallen in love with a strong, good man, a man whose love ran as deep and wide as the ocean beneath her. How could she face him now, knowing how much he’d lost when Isabel had left him, and how much it took for him to risk loving anyone again?
How could she face him, knowing that the woman he believed he’d fallen in love with had been dead for over a decade?
Chapter Twenty
Lady Rumley set down her teacup with a decisive clink. “Prudence, I do not believe you have heard a word that I’ve said.”
Sabrina lifted her gaze from the Persian rug she had been staring at and smiled apologetically at her guest. “Forgive me, Cassie. I was wool-gathering.”
“Well, it must have been a prodigious sheep,” the lady remarked good-naturedly as she poured herself another cup of tea. “Perhaps you should have a lie-down like your grandmother.”
“No. I am fine.” Liar.
Cassie smiled and picked up a finger sandwich with her elegant, black-gloved fingers. “Well, I cannot fault you for your distraction. With the unpleasantness at Wheal Grace and a saboteur running loose in the county, I am amazed that any of you at Ravenshold have a wit left in your head. And I am sure your thoughts are still much occupied with Lord Trevelyan.”
Sabrina took a quick, self-conscious gulp of her tea. Cassie’s innocent comment had hit the mark far closer than the lady imagined. It had been six days since Rina had stood with Edward on the cliffs and he had all but asked her to marry him—six days of quick thinking and improvising ways not to be alone with him. So far the earl was largely confined to his rooms, and between visitors, servants, and the watchdog eye of Dr. Williams, she’d managed to avoid a private conversation. But that situation was about to come to an end.
Charles had told Rina that he was officially releasing Edward from his care this evening. The doctor was going to Truro for a few days to purchase medical supplies, and he’d planned to remove the two burly miners he’d enlisted to watch Edward’s door before he went. Tomorrow the earl would be free to seek her out. And sidestepping the advances of a weakened man patient trussed up in bandages was an altogether different matter from discouraging a determined, powerful lord who she just happened to be in love with.
“Prudence, you are doing it again!”
Rina searched her mind for a plausible lie to explain her absent-mindedness, but before she could think of one, Cassie interrupted.
“My dear, this will not do. I cannot bear to see you so distressed. We must endeavor to take your mind off your troubles.” She lifted a gloved finger to her cheek and slowly tapped it, apparently in deep thought. Then her eyes lit up. “I have it. The very thing. We shall each other a secret. The one who reveals the best secret wins.”
Rina took another gulp of her tea. “Oh, I do not think that is a good idea at all.”
“Nonsense. You know it will do you good. Besides, I have a tremendous secret that I am simply dying to tell.“ With pantomime furtiveness Cassie glanced to the left and to the right. Then she nodded toward the open door of the drawing room, where Amy and Mr. Fitzroy conversed on the sun-washed garden terrace. “As we were riding over this afternoon, my brother confessed to me that today is the day.”
“What day?”
“The day. The day he means to ask Lady Amy to accept his proposal of marriage. There has been an understanding between them for some time, but today they will set the date.”
Sabrina glanced at the couple on the terrace, biting her tongue. Amy wore a simple dress of white muslin, looking as fresh as a spring flower. Paris, on the other hand, sported an elaborate coat of the blue striped satin that seemed overdone and ostentatious in the simplicity of the country afternoon. Though Amy had been cold to her of late, Rina couldn’t help feeling a quick regret stroke through her as she thought of the sweet, fine-hearted girl spending her life with such a preening dandy.
Still, it was none of her affair. This was Trevelyan business, and she was not a Trevelyan. And the more she pretended in her heart that she was, the more she risked forgetting her true identity—Sabrina Murphy, fugitive, impostor, diamond thief. She gripped the handle of her teacup until her knuckles turned white.
Seeing Paris also made Sabrina remember something else, a question she’d all but forgotten in the excitement of the mine cave-in and Edward’s recovery. “Cassie, when I was on the cliff with Sarah, she mentioned that Paris claimed that Isabel’s letter had talked of escaping from her children as well as her husband. Paris said she wrote that they ‘weighed her down.’ But you said that Isabel wrote of her children as ‘beloved’ in the letter. Why would Paris make up something like that?”
Cassie poured herself a new cup of tea, and uncharacteristically spilled a portion onto the saucer. “I can’t think why. I’m sure she was mistaken. Paris is not prone to fabrication. He is nothing at all like—”
Abruptly she stopped and shook her head, almost as if she were waking from an unpleasant dream. “Heavens, now I am the one who is wool-gathering. Come. Now it is your turn to tell me a secret.”
Sabrina swallowed. Unconsciously she reached up and touched the locket lying between her breasts. “Uhm, I cannot rightly think of any. Truly, I cannot.”
“Now, play fair,” Cassie admonished as she wagged her finger at her reluctant friend. “Every woman has at least one secret.”
One? Rina was bursting with secrets. She raised her cup for another sip of tea, only to discover that the cup was dry—like her usually resourceful mind. “Truly, I have nothing to tell. No secrets at all. Truly.”
“You said that. Several times.” Cassie’s eyes narrowed perceptively. Setting aside her teacup, she reached out and took Rina’s hand in hers. “My dear, I did not mean this to be a trial for you. You know that you are under no obligation to say anything. But I cannot help marking your agitation. Something is clearly weighing on your mind. And it has been my experience that, when a woman vehemently denies having a secret, the secret that she denies having usually involves a suitor.”
Sabrina blushed. “Why, that is…I mean, it is preposterous to think…that is, I couldn’t possibly.” She shut off the tumble of excuses, feeling gauche under Cassie’s stare. There was no point in denying a truth that was so plainly written on her face. She bowed her head and whispered, “Is it so very obvious, then?”
Lady Rumley gave her fingers a warm squeeze. “Not to everyone, my dear. Just to me and to Lady Amy, who confessed similar suspicions to me when we were out riding the other day. But why are you seeking to disguise your emotions? There is no reason to be ashamed of your feelings—especially when they are fixed on such a fine gentleman as the one you’ve chosen.”
“You know who he is?”
Cassie gave her a knowing smile. “I cannot be sure, but I believe I can venture an educated guess—especially since Amy’s thoughts marched with mine on the matter. You have not exactly been discreet. By all accounts you have spent most of the days and nights of the last fortnight in his company.”
“But, I had no choice. He needed my help.”
“Calm yourself. I was not meaning to imply anything untoward. He did need your help, and your courag
e and charity does you credit. Without your assistance I doubt the earl’s illness would have had such a happy outcome. And if you love the man as I am sure he loves you—”
“I love him,” Rina confessed. “Oh, Cassie, I love him more than my life.”
For a moment Rina caught the hint of a shadow in Cassie’s eyes, but it was gone in an instant. “I am sure everything shall turn out to everyone’s satisfaction. He is a sober and prudent individual. Amy has nothing but praise for him, and I am sure the rest of your family will also welcome the match.”
Sabrina had no doubt that Lady Penelope and the children would—until they learned the truth about her. And when Edward himself found out…
Rina closed her eyes, misery aching her soul. She knew Cassie was trying to help, but every encouraging word drilled into her heart like a coffin nail. “‘Tis impossible. Hopeless. We come from different worlds. I might as well wish for the moon.”
“Nonsense, you have a great deal in common. You have a sympathetic spirit and a fine mind. What you do not know about comforting the afflicted, I am sure you will learn. The doctor will no doubt find your future assistance in his work invaluable.”
The doctor? Sabrina frowned, wondering what Charles had to do with anything. Then she recalled Cassie’s recent words, about spending days and nights in her lover’s company, and how he was a sober and prudent individual. Edward had many virtues—but being sober and prudent were not among them. Belatedly, Sabrina realized that Cassie had come to an entirely false conclusion.
“You think I am in love wit…Dr. Williams?”
“Well, of course. ‘Tis obvious.”
“‘Tis no such thing! I am fond of the doctor to be sure, but I am certainly not in love with him.”
Cassie set down her cup and gave Rina a puzzled, look. “Well, if you are not in love with Charles, then who are you in love with?”
Blast! It was one thing agreeing with Cassie when she’d thought she had no other choice—it was quite another admitting to a love that could only end in heartbreak and disaster. She took a deep breath, and set up a desperate prayer for a miracle. Lady Luck, I need an ace smart quick—
For once, Lady Luck was listening. At that moment Mr. Fitzroy came charging into the drawing room, his usually languid face crimson with rage. “The chit. The bloody, simpering chit!”
Cassie leapt to her feet and hurried to her brother’s side. “Paris, what has happened?”
“She refused me. Me!” He grabbed up the brandy decanter and sloshed a drink into a glass. “After all I have done for her. All I have endured. I am heartsick.”
Sabrina watched Fitzroy toss back his drink, then adjust his lace cravat. She was glad for his fortunate interruption, but she couldn’t marshal much sympathy for him. To her mind the dandy looked a great deal more disturbed by the disarray of his shirt than his recent romantic rejection. His sister’s face, however, was a study in desolation.
“Surely it cannot be so,” Lady Rumley cried. “You have devoted yourself to Lady Amy.”
“Demmed if I didn’t. Bent over backward to please the silly baggage. Put up with her schoolgirl foolishness—even said she could keep up her charity work until the wedding. ‘Tis then that she refused me. Said she did not love me. As if the chit knew anything about love.”
“She knows enough about it to want it,” Rina stated quietly.
Fitzroy swiveled to face her. His gaze drilled into her, and for the first time Rina saw the sharp edge of cunning beneath his foppishness.
“You are to blame for this—you and that bleeding-heart doctor. Before you came the girl was manageable. Then you showed up, with your sanctimonious ways and oh-so-noble ideals. You’ve ruined her. And I’ll pay you back for it. I swear I will.”
He stormed out of the room, leaving a distressed Cassie behind. “Please,” she cried, gripping Rina’s hand. “Do not attend him. He is distraught. I pray you will not tell Edward what he said. He did not mean it.”
Sabrina would have bet the price of the Dutchman that Fitzroy meant every word, but she was too fond of Lady Rumley to upset her further. “I…believe I should attend to Amy. No doubt she is distraught as well.”
“Yes, I am sure she is. And I must talk with Paris,” Cassie agreed as she moved to accompany Sabrina to the terrace door. “Please persuade Amy to reconsider. Make her see that she is committing a grave error. It is imperative that Amy marry my brother. Everything depends on this. Everything!”
And with that she turned and followed her brother from the room, leaving Rina to wonder exactly what “everything” meant.
Sabrina found Amy on a bench under the rose arbor in the garden, sitting so still that she seemed to be painted in place. Her lovely face betrayed no trace of emotion, but the rose clutched in her hand had been shredded past all recognition. Rina settled on the bench beside her, her heart going out to the girl she’d come to love dearly as a sister. She searched her mind for something to say that would overcome the strange barrier that had grown between them during the past weeks, but Amy spoke first.
“I was going to accept him. I really was. We have been betrothed practically since the cradle. And, save my brother, he is the finest catch in the county. He would have given me anything I asked for without a second thought. It would have been such a little thing to say ‘yes’—and yet I could not say it.” She swallowed, blinking back tears. “Edward and Grandmother will be so disappointed in me. They will think me bottle-witted.”
“Not bottle-witted. Brave,” Rina corrected gently. “You do not love Fitzroy. I suspect your grandmother and brother will be proud that you did not accept a loveless bargain, just as I am. And someday soon I am sure you will meet a man worthy of you, one that you can truly love with all your heart.”
Rina had expected her words to comfort Amy. Instead, they had the opposite effect. Amy plucked another flower from the arbor and began stripping off the petals. “I have no wish to meet anyone. I intend to die a spinster.”
“Darling, you are not going to wither on the shelf. Dozens of young men will be lining up to court you.”
“Dozens, but not—oh, I cannot bear it!” Amy dropped the crushed rose to the flagstone, her composure crumbling into heart-raking tears. “I love him so terribly!”
Sabrina blinked in confusion. “But you just said that you did not love Mr. Fitzroy.”
“Oh, not Paris. I don’t love him one wit, and I don’t believe that he truly loves me. I am speaking of—oh, I cannot tell you. It is too dreadful.”
Gently, Rina pushed a strand of hair from Amy’s damp cheek. “I am quite sure that no one you love could be dreadful.”
“He isn’t,” the girl sobbed. “Charles is won-wonderful.”
“Charles? Dr. Williams? But I thought you loathed him.”
“I did. At first. I mean, he was terribly rude—always saying what he thought, no matter who it offended. But gradually I realized he was not being rude—he was being honest. He cares about people, not titles or money. He’s the most selfless man I’ve ever known. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t the spoiled, silly debutante everyone thought I was—that I thought I was, until I met him. But I did not realize that I loved him until the night of the cave-in. That’s when I found out he lov…loves you.”
“But Charles does not—” Sabrina’s words ended in stunned silence as the puzzle pieces clicked together in her mind. Cassie’s belief in her “secret” love for Dr. Williams. The lady’s admission that Amy believed the same. Amy’s inexplicable coolness toward Rina these last weeks. Suddenly all of it made sense—preposterous, foolish, tilt-the-world-on-its-ear sense. She could almost hear her father laughing at the brilliant absurdity of the mix-up. “Amy, Charles is my friend, but I assure you that he does not love me.”
For an instant, doubt overpowered despair in Amy’s gaze. Then her eyes pooled for another bout of tears. “You are just saying that to make me fe—feel better. But ‘tisn’t true. I knew that he l
oved you when he chose you to help rescue Edward instead of me. He swatted me away like a bothersome bug. Said I was incomp…incomp…oh.”
Another sob racked her body. Rina held the quaking girl, smoothing her hair. “Amy, listen to me. Charles does not think you are incompetent. He only said so to drive you away, to keep you out of danger. He told me that he could not have borne it if anything had happened to you.”
Amy lifted her head. “T-truly?”
“His very words. He said it to me as we were traveling down the shaft.”
Amy’s watery eyes brimmed with hope instead of tears, but her voice was still edged with distress. “But what of you? You love him, too. I cannot steal your intended.”