"Then of course Lord and Lady Malton called, along with Lord Newley, who was quite distressed not to find you at home. You've made a conquest there."
"Anything in skirts makes a conquest with him," Sabrina commented dryly.
Mary sighed, shaking her head in regret. "I'm so worried about Richard. He's been so upset since you disappeared. He actually became surly and rude to me."
Sabrina looked up and showed the first signs of real interest in Mary's conversation.
"He would disappear for hours or lock himself up in his room, not answering my summons, missing meals. I can't do anything with him. He's always been closer to you, Sabrina," she added without jealousy or rancor. "Speak to him when he comes to see you. He doesn't know you're back. He went out so early this morning. Find out what's bothering him. He will probably be back to normal now that you're back. I've this feeling that something is wrong, but when I try to see it, it's just a blur, everything is indistinct."
"Don't worry, I'll have a word with him," Sabrina reassured her.
Mary leaned forward earnestly. "You are all right, aren't you, Rina? You have told me everything? Oh, my dear, if only I could have spared you this. I can't stand the thought of you hurt and suffering. I feel as though I've aged a lifetime since you disappeared."
Sabrina reached out and clasped Mary's hands with hers, tightly holding them. "I think we all have, Mary. It's time we changed our lives. We've been so lucky until now. I knew sooner or later our good fortune would run out— but we've stopped in time," she added fervently, trying to convince herself as much as Mary that they were safe. "What can happen? Who would ever believe that Bonnie Charlie was a woman? And the only one, outside of the Taylors, who knows the truth, wouldn't dare tell—he couldn't," Sabrina whispered to herself.
"No, I suppose his vanity and good name would be at stake. Being beaten by a woman," Mary scoffed, and patted Sabrina's clenched hands. "Don't fret, Rina. I suddenly feel wonderful, clearheaded and free of worry. We're safe. Safe—nothing can hurt us anymore." She collected the tray and smilingly left the room humming a little tune.
Sabrina lay back against the fluffy pillows and stared out the window. The sky was a deep, vivid blue with puffy white clouds floating past. A small robin with a yellowish-red breast landed on the sill and chirped importantly to the world, and then cocking its feathery head, it swooped from the sill, gliding over the trees to disappear.
"Rina?" a small voice asked hesitantly from the doorway.
Sabrina looked over and held out her arms. Richard cannoned into them, burying his head against her breast and holding onto her frantically, his sobs muffled against her nightgown. Sabrina soothed his brow, rocking him like a baby.
"I thought you were dead. I thought I'd never see you again! Oh, Rina, don't ever leave me again. Never!" His deep cry of anguish tore at Sabrina's heart.
"I won't, love. I'm through with all of that foolishness. We've got everything we need right here. A roof over our heads, good farmland, food on the table and a fire in the hearth. We have all we need, Dickie," she comforted him. "This is our home, and someday you'll be master here, and then you can look after me. How does that sound?" Sabrina asked him curiously.
Richard gulped and sniffed a couple of times before raising his head. He looked up into Sabrina's soft violet eyes, a smile beginning to show in his watery blue ones.
"We'll always be together? You'll never go off again, Rina? And I'll be able to care for you and Mary and Aunt Margaret? I'm real strong, see? Feel." And he held out a small arm, flexing the muscle manfully.
Sabrina squeezed it lightly. "You're quite right Every day you seem to grow bigger."
"I know, soon 111 be taller than you, Rina, although you're pretty small to begin with, so it doesn't really count."
Sabrina laughed for the first time with real amusement hugging Richard close. "Listen, mate, I can still box your ears in a set-to."
Richard grinned, and stretching out his legs in their blue knee breeches and buckled, black leather shoes, said complacently, "I finished six books while you were gone. Mr. Teesdale says I'm far advanced for my age." He looked up at Sabrina proudly.
"Indeed you are. I'm sure you know far more than me."
"Probably," he agreed casually, causing Sabrina to raise her eyebrows until she saw the imp of mischief sparkling in his eyes.
"Rat" she laughed and started tickling him in the ribs. He giggled and squirmed quickly off the bed, the harassed look gone from his eyes as he skipped from the room in childish abandon.
Sabrina curled into a ball and hid her face in the crook of her arm, closing her eyes and mind against all the thoughts that plagued her. She would forget for awhile. She would sleep, and everything would be better when she awoke.
Lucien dismounted and walked his horse along the narrow woodland path. His face was set in angry lines and the scar still throbbed in his cheek as his thoughts swirled through his mind.
His steps were firm and confident as he callously trod through overhanging ferns and grasses. In the shade of a mossy bank he saw a small clump of late-blooming violets and ruthlessly pulled them up, the soft moist loam still clinging to their roots. He stared down at the delicate purple flowers, his hard fingers breaking the fragile stems as he saw two dark, violet eyes staring back at him. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he threw the violets to the path and viciously crushed them beneath the heel of his boot.
He continued on, his mind occupied with plans. He would find her—by God, he would! And heaven help her when he did. He could still feel the hot rage rise in him when he thought of waking this morning and finding her gone. She had escaped from him—along with that giant friend. He smiled cruelly in anticipation of getting his hands on her once again. She'd pay for making him look the fool. He had fallen for that innocent act of hers, the little schemer.
When he remembered her soft body and eager responses to his caresses, her lips kissing his hungrily and asking for more, all he wanted was to have her back in bed with him and wrapped close in his arms. Fool that he was to let the fire in his loins control him. He should've beat the information out of her. The bite of the lash was probably all she understood.
He admitted that his vanity and masculinity had been wounded by her disappearance. She had tricked him, had played the passionate lover, her soft lips deceiving him while she plotted. He laughed harshly, the sudden sound startling his horse. He was dwelling like some love-sotted, callow youth over his first love. He must be getting senile if that little black-haired vixen and her arrogant ways could disturb him. Well, he would find her, and then teach her a lesson she'd soon not forget.
His servants were at this very moment making inquiries in the villages and hamlets about two large men and a small, black-haired girl. They would soon have news of that roguish trio—and then he would exact his revenge. He'd ordered his men to be especially observant in the taverns, where gossip was rampant. Dropping that false information in a couple of taverns had led to his capture of Sabrina before—it just might again.
The news should follow him to London very shortly. He eagerly anticipated this—in fact, he felt elated at the thought of meeting her again. It should prove quite interesting. He climbed back into the saddle and urged his horse into a trot as he left the woods and joined the road, his mood lighter as his horse's strides lengthened down the road.
"Richard! Watch out!" Sabrina called out a warning too late as Richard tripped over the handle of a sickle that had carelessly been left on the ground, the curved blade barely missing his knee as it swung up.
Sabrina ran toward him, her face pale. "Are you all right? Didn't you see the sickle? Really, Richard, do watch where you're going sometimes. You're always bumping into things," Sabrina admonished him, her voice harsh from the fright he'd given her.
Richard grinned sheepishly. "At least I didn't spill anyof the milk," he beamed as he held up a wooden bowl triumphantly. "Sarah let me help her milk the cows."
"I can see that for myself," Sabrina commented as she noticed the white moustache above his mouth.
"Here, have some."
Sabrina accepted the bowl and drank deeply, the warm, fresh milk tasting sweet on her tongue. She handed the bowl back to Richard, only to have him start laughing.
"What is so funny?"
"You, Rina. You've got a moustache too." Sabrina grinned and wiped the milk from her mouth. "Better?"
"Like a cat in pattens," he replied after a critical inspection of her upper lip.
"You'd better go in and clean up, you've lessons with Mr. Teesdale in less than an hour, Richard," Sabrina advised as she in turn inspected his breeches, soiled and stuck with straw, and his face smudged with dirt. In the distance she could see a rider coming up the narrow lane and recognized John's bulky shape. "Better hurry," she urged Richard.
Richard heard the horse's hooves and stared towards the sound, his eyes squinted. "Who is it?"
Sabrina stared at Richard's straining expression, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "It's John Taylor. Couldn't you tell?" she asked curiously.
Richard's face flushed. "Sure I could. I just thought it might be Will," he explained casually and then turned and hurried off, his thin shoulders hunched dejectedly.
Sabrina turned back as John rode up, a welcoming smile on her face. "Hello, John. What brings you calling?"
John dismounted, and taking off his hat greeted Sabrina politely. "Morning, Lady Sabrina. Mam thought you'd like this herb salve for yer skin." He looked about the stable yard and finding no one close enough to overhear added worriedly, "Some strangers been asking folks hereabouts if they knew of me and Will and a young black-haired girl, calling her Sabrina. Real nosey they are too."
Sabrina glanced up at him apprehensively. "What did they learn?"
John smiled smugly. "No more than they knew when they came. Folks don't care to be telling strangers their business. Especially seein' how you been so good to them around here. Besides, anyone blabbering around here about something that don't concern them answers to Will and me. Anyway, there be a lot of black-haired females living around here. Heard tell there was a real pretty one near Tunbridge Wells, nice little ride on a warm afternoon." He grinned widely.
Sabrina smiled with relief. "I take it they won't have any luck?"
"Could be. And of course there're a lot of big men hereabouts too. Why, look at Ben Sampson the smithy, or Roberts the brewer? Lot of big men. Pity if the wrong person was to go asking questions of them. No telling what might happen." He rocked back and forth on his heels, smiling with satisfaction.
Sabrina felt relief, but not the joyous relief she once would have at such news.
"Will and me bought the Faire Maiden, Charlie," John confided proudly. "Goin' to fix it up real nice."
"That's wonderful, John. I sometimes wondered if we'd ever be able to live normal lives?"
"Well, since we ain't goin' to be out at night so much, and we got the last bit of money we needed, we figured we better buy it before old Jack changed his mind about selling, or sold it to an outsider."
"I can't tell you how happy I am for you and Will. You've helped me so much, I can't ever repay you," Sabrina told the discomfited giant, his face burning with an embarrassed blush.
"You know, Charlie, we'll still look after you—and if you need us for anything you can count on us anytime," he promised, then clearing his throat nervously added, "You sine you and your family have enough money, Charlie? I mean, well, if you was needing any, me and Will could give you some."
Sabrina was touched by his offer of support, and regardless of any curious eyes she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, John, I'll never forget your kind offer, but we're fine. We've saved a lot of our money, and living simply we manage nicely."
John's face was still a bright red when he climbed back on his horse and rode off, waving as he rounded the hedgerows and disappeared from view.
Sabrina went back indoors, her light step purposeful as she made her way into the big kitchen with its large table covered with cooking utensils. Drying bunches of herbs hung from the rafters, lending a spicy scent to the blend of odors rising from bubbling plum tarts fresh from the oven and a cut of beef roasting over the fire. The cook was nodding in a chair near the hearth, her apron half full of peas to be shelled.
The young scullery maid rotating the turnspit with the roast on it nudged the cook when she saw Sabrina, a shy smile in her round eyes as she gazed in adoration at her young mistress. The cook woke up with a grumbled snort, ready to swing at the disturbance until she saw Sabrina standing nearby.
"Lady Sabrina," she exclaimed, straightening her mob-cap off her forehead and heaving her bulk frbm her easy chair, the peas encompassed safely in her apron she held together firmly.
"I just want to rob you of some of that gingerbread. A couple of pieces, and one for Lottie," she added as the little girl's eyes widened and her lips smacked at the sight of the rich gingerbread.
The cook tied her apron together, then cut several big squares from the fragrant cake, shaking her head repressively. "Lottie'll never learn her place, Lady Sabrina, if you keep spoiling her. Already she's got airs above her station. Next she'll be wantin' to wear velvet and lace."
Sabrina smiled at the little girl. "It can't hurt her to have one piece of gingerbread, can it?" she cajoled, smiling as she accepted the gingerbread, her dimple peeping irrepressibly. The cook's disapproving expression relaxed a bit, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her tight mouth as she grudgingly had to admit that the Lady Sabrina had a taking way with her. Still, she'd always thought this one of the Verricks a wild one, not at all like the Lady Mary who was a proper lady.
Sabrina hurried upstairs to find Richard, the generous chunks of gingerbread crowding together on a parchment-thin china plate. She found him sitting in the schoolroom, an opened book before him as he awaited the arrival of Mr. Teesdale.
"Surprise!" Sabrina called as she held out the gingerbread enticingly before him.
Richard took a deep, appreciative breath and reached out an eager hand that unerringly guided the pieces into his mouth. Licking a crumb delicately from the corner of her mouth, Sabrina watched in amusement as he hungrily finished off his piece and then eyed hers covertly. Her smile widened and she broke off the rest of hers and handed it to him.
"Thanks, Rina," he mumbled through a mouthful.
Sabrina strolled over to the window and stood silently staring out when she suddenly called excitedly over her shoulder, "Oh, Richard, do look! Here's that little robin that serenaded me the other day."
Sitting demurely on a branch of the big elm tree outside the window was a plain-looking little sparrow. Richard came up beside Sabrina and peered out the window. "Oh, yes, quite a colorful little fellow with his red-breast."
Sabrina stared at Richard's little profile, resisting the urge to hug him to her protectively. Instead she told him calmly, "It's a sparrow, Richard."
Richard's face paled and he turned an accusing face to her. "You tricked me!" he cried, tears streaking down his cheeks. "I hate you! It's not fair." His thin shoulders shook with sobs and his voice was thick with tears.
Sabrina wrapped her arms around him and hugged him to her, comforting him the best she could. His sobs lessened and he gave a watery hiccup.
"Why didn't you ever tell us, Dickie?" Sabrina asked, her fingers combing his thick red hair back from his face. "I've been such a fool! Too busy to even notice my own brother's needs. How long have you had trouble seeing?"
Richard sniffed and shrugged, but kept his head pressed against Sabrina's breast. "Don't know. Long time, I guess. I can read real good, though. It's just things in the distance that are all blurred," he confessed sheepishly.
Sabrina drew in her breath sharply as a thought struck her. "Is that why you don't like to ride, Dickie?"
She raised his tear-stained face and looked into his big, myopic blue eyes, a smile
tugging at her mouth. "Dickie, I wish you'd told me. I'd have helped you. You don't need to worry anymore, nor be ashamed of it," she reproved him gently.
"I wanted to help you so much, Rina, but I was afraid to ride. It's awful not to be able to see where you're going, afraid you're going to bump into a branch you don't see, or fall into a bog. And when I tried to shoot, what was I going to aim at?"
Sabrina let Richard talk, all his childish fears and bottled-up emotions flooding out as he unburdened himself.
"How would you like to go to London, Dickie?" Sabrina asked him seriously.
Richard wiped at his face with a ruffled sleeve, rubbing his eyes dry as he looked at Sabrina in surprise. "Go to London?" he repeated in awe. "You mean I would go?"
"It would be especially for you. It will be your special treat. And while we're there we'll see about getting you a pair of eyeglasses. Do you like that idea?"
Richard lowered his head, but not before Sabrina saw his eyes light up with excitement. He gave a relieved sigh unconsciously. "You don't think I'll be a, well—" he began, struggling to find the words, "a sissy for wearing eyeglasses?" He looked up at Sabrina hopefully, his eyes pleading for reassurance.
Sabrina made a contemptuous sound. "Of course not! You will look quite the intellectual, and be able to see where you're going, too. It's most important not to fall into the gutter when we're trying to impress the Prime Minister." '
Richard was laughing and jumping up and down when the stern-faced Mr. Teesdale entered the schoolroom, a look of disapproval on his severe features at this riotous display of abandon.
"I'm going to London, Mr. Teesdale!" Richard called out gaily, his tutor's raised eyebrow for once not having the desired effect of silencing him.
"Are we indeed?" Mr. Teesdale murmured politely, his face inscrutable beneath his gray periwig. He greeted Sabrina, and placing his books and papers in a neat stack on the table inquired, "When will this projected visit to London occur, so I may adjust young Lord Richard's study schedule accordingly?"
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