“Don’t you think I’d know if a man was interested in me in that way? I promise you, Aunt Hilary, Duncan doesn’t look at me and see me as wifely material, he sees me more as his confidante who can help advise him on which one of those young lovelies he should be picking.”
“Time will tell,” Hilary replied, unwilling for some reason to deviate from her hopeful speculations.
Sabrina, unwilling to argue further when she’d rather still be savoring her memories in silence, said, “Just what was that all about, the way you attacked Lord Neville tonight?”
“Why, nothing a’tall. Just pure dislike that goes way back.”
But Hilary, being forced into the defensive, said no more for the rest of the ride home.
Chapter Twenty-one
Sabrina overslept the next morning, so when Alice came in to wake her and mentioned cheerfully that she didn’t have much time to get ready, that the coach was already there and waiting for them, she was too groggy yet to grasp what that meant. And Alice left her room too quickly, before Sabrina could form a coherent question or even find out what coach she’d been talking about.
She didn’t hurry, though. The night before was recalled, and with a smile, she lay back on her pillow to do some more savoring, just as she’d done when she’d gone to bed last night—which was why she hadn’t gotten to sleep until near dawn, and why she’d overslept.
But then Hilary poked her head around Sabrina’s door and said, “Everyone is ready, m’dear, we’re just waiting on you. Do hurry.”
The door closed again, and Sabrina, getting seriously curious now, threw back her covers and raced out into the corridor to catch Hilary, who was already halfway down the stairs. “Ready for what? Have I overlooked something we were supposed to do today?”
Hilary frowned. “Didn’t that nitwit sister of mine tell you? She was supposed to wake you and tell you. Knew I should have done it m’self.”
“Ah, she mentioned a coach—”
“Oh, so she did tell you.” Hilary sounded disappointed, having a good excuse for an argument with Alice nipped in the bud as it were. “Well, do hurry. The coachman has been here for over an hour already, waiting.”
What a dilemma that gave Sabrina. Find out what the devil was going on, or give Hilary a reason to complain to Alice all day. She opted to look out the upstairs window in her room instead, which faced the front of the house. And there was the coach in question, Lord Neville’s coach again, there when it shouldn’t be there.
She was appalled at the conclusion she immediately reached. Obviously Duncan had forgotten to let the coachman know that he wouldn’t be needed this morning, at least not to pick her up again. And now because of that little oversight, her aunts both thought that they were all invited to Summers Glade, including Ophelia.
What else could her aunts be thinking? She was supposed to have told Duncan that she couldn’t return to the party, not without their own guest, and if the coach was there, then it must be there for all of them. They could have come to no other conclusion.
She thought about getting back into bed and hiding there all day. She thought about hitting Duncan over the head with her parasol for his forgetfulness, and most surely would have if it were the time of year to carry a parasol. She thought about how angry he was going to be when Ophelia showed up at his house. But it was his fault, his oversight. So why did she feel as if it were all her fault instead? Perhaps because she knew, she just knew, that he was going to blame her somehow, simply because Ophelia was her guest.
She ended up hurrying in the end, and choosing one of her more becoming morning dresses, not that her appearance was going to help her in the least, would do no more than bolster her own courage, if that was possible. She was going to have to warn her aunts, and without Ophelia overhearing. She may not like the London girl all that much now, but she had no desire to hurt her by explaining that she hadn’t really gotten the hoped-for invitation that she now thought she had.
They were all waiting for her, right there in the entryway, so there was no chance that Sabrina could have a private word with one of her aunts without pulling them away, which would likely draw questions from the other two. But she wasn’t given a chance to even try, when Ophelia grabbed her arm and whisked her right out to the coach, so impatient was she to make her entrance.
The ride was excruciating for Sabrina, who envisioned all sorts of disastrous outcomes now. She even pictured Duncan tossing the lot of them out his door. After all, she could have prevented their showing up, could have confessed the truth. He wouldn’t be concerned about hurting Ophelia’s feelings with that truth.
It was Ophelia’s impatience that did finally give Sabrina an opportunity to at least warn her aunts, when the coach arrived at Summers Glade and the London girl was the first to jump out. Sabrina caught Hilary’s arm and whispered quickly, “We shouldn’t be here. Duncan didn’t invite her.”
Hilary merely patted her arm without the least little concern and replied, “He must have changed his mind then, because the driver informed us that he was to escort us all, including any guests we might have.”
That, of course, left Sabrina sitting in the coach with her mouth hanging open, so she was the last to enter the house. She didn’t know what to think at that point. She would like to think that Duncan had compromised again, as he’d done yesterday, just so she would come to the party. But she had to be realistic. She didn’t know what had happened at that meeting at the inn yesterday. Duncan could be wanting Ophelia back now, but didn’t want Ophelia to know it yet. In that case, Sabrina had given him a perfect excuse to at least get the London girl near to hand again.
It certainly didn’t take long for Ophelia to desert them. She had already disappeared when Sabrina came inside, gone off to find her London friends to let them know she was back in circulation. She was accustomed to being the center of attention, no matter where she was. And the very fact that she was here, at her ex-fiancé's party, would totally reverse the gossip about her.
She had gotten just what she wanted. And she was back in her element, among the London ton. It was no wonder she was shining with an exquisite beauty today that put Sabrina, even in her best lilac morning dress, to shame.
Well, there was nothing for it but to accept it and get on with enjoying herself as best she could. Not that she would now. Today was not going to be like last night, with Duncan in constant attendance on her. It couldn’t be, not with Ophelia there.
They had arrived in time for breakfast. Hilary and Alice had already eaten, but Sabrina hadn’t, and so she meandered into the breakfast room where food was being served, if not eaten. A few other guests had apparently arisen late too, or were just late eaters. Raphael Locke and his sister Amanda were among those few at the buffet tables getting their plates filled before going off in search of a chair somewhere.
“Alone at last,” he said to Sabrina when he noticed her and moved to her side.
“At last?”
“Well, I was trying to figure out all last evening how I was going to get you out of the barbarian’s clutches, and here you are without him in tow.”
She blushed, but not on her own account. “I wish you wouldn’t call him that. He’s not, you know.”
Raphael chuckled. “Course I know, but I have to have something to ride him about, don’t I?”
“Why?” she asked baldly.
“Well, one, because he’s so amusing when he gets annoyed with me. And two, because I like him. And three, because someone has to teach him how to roll with the punches, as it were, and I’ve elected myself to educate him on the intricacies of English humor.”
“Goodness, and here I thought you were just being facetious,” she replied, tongue in cheek.
He burst out laughing, which drew every eye in the room to them and brought his sister over as well. “And what, pray tell, can you possibly find amusing this early in the morning?” Amanda asked, smothering a yawn as she did.
“That you were appare
ntly so tired when you dressed this morning that you forgot to have your maid button up those last few—”
The poor girl shrieked and looked mortified and immediately gave him her back with the order, “Don’t just stand there, fix it!”
Raphael was silently laughing and appeared to have the intention of letting his sister stand there forever waiting to be buttoned up. Sabrina took pity on the girl and leaned forward to whisper to her, “He was joking. You are fully dressed and look lovely.”
Mandy turned back around to glare at her brother and give him a heartfelt, “You wretch,” before flouncing away.
Sabrina shook her head at the man. He was very handsome—both the Locke siblings were exceptional in that regard—but he was obviously an incorrigible tease as well. Not that that was a bad thing. She did her fair share of teasing too, though with a major difference. Her teasing was done to amuse people, not to irritate them.
“What?” he complained with a smile when he saw her shaking her head at him.
“That was too bad of you,” she replied.
“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But it woke her up, didn’t it? Can’t have the girl looking like a slugabed when she’s supposed to be catching a husband. Sooner she does so, the sooner I can retire from this chaperoning business.”
“Ah, so it was to her benefit to get her riled?” Sabrina said.
“Course it was,” he replied. “Gads, don’t tell me you were thinking I’m mean-spirited. It would break my heart, it surely would.”
Sabrina took a bite of her sausage wrapped in a biscuit before she pointed the remainder of it at a nearby table. “Heart and kidney is being served over there, I believe, if you’re in need of replacements.”
“Ouch,” he said, but he was grinning at her. “Lucky for you, m’dear, I’m not so easily discouraged. So it might take me a few extra days to convince you to marry me.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “When you realize how ideally suited we are, you’ll give in.”
She chuckled over his new line of teasing. “We aren’t the least bit suited, and well you know it.”
“Course we are,” he insisted. “We both come from a line of dukes.”
“Ah, but my line has scandal attached to it,” she reminded him.
“Ah, but my line eats scandal for breakfast,” he countered cheerily.
“And which table are they serving that at this morning?” she asked him.
He laughed, loud enough to again draw eyes their way. Sabrina was starting to enjoy herself, but she was also starting to wonder why he was paying her such attention. It was going to cause gossip, she was sure, if he didn’t move along soon. He was too well known for it not to.
But in the end she decided he was just bored and passing the time. And anyone who would actually try to link her name with his would have to be an utter idiot, so she wasn’t going to worry about it.
Chapter Twenty-two
“I heard it from his own sister,” Edith Ward said. “He likes to champion the underdog. Who better would fit that description than Sabrina?”
“I wouldn’t mind being an underdog, if it would get his attention,” Jane remarked.
“You can’t just be an underdog because you want to, dear,” Edith told her. “You’re too pretty.”
Jane blushed, but was obviously disappointed, though at any other time she would have been thrilled by the compliment. But keeping in mind their purpose, she added, “Not that it will matter, once he notices Ophelia.”
Both girls had been trying to soothe Ophelia’s jealous nature, which they knew had been pricked when they had all spotted Sabrina leaving the breakfast room with the very handsome Raphael Locke by her side. The mere look of incredulity that appeared on Ophelia’s face was enough to predict what would occur.
Mavis, on the other hand, was delighted by this turn of events. Actually, she had felt her world was finally righting itself when Ophelia’s scheme to get rid of her fiancé had turned on her and the gossip had turned against her. She had never before witnessed such just deserts as that. So she had been utterly disappointed to see Ophelia show up at Summers Glade this morning, apparently invited, which she knew, just as the others did, would put Ophelia right back into the position of reigning queen of the Season.
The only good thing about her appearance, as far as Mavis was concerned, was that she would now be around to witness Sabrina’s success, and that her campaign to ruin Sabrina’s debut hadn’t worked completely, at least not where MacTavish and Locke were concerned, apparently.
And Ophelia didn’t even know who Raphael Locke was yet, had never met him. None of the girls had, prior to yesterday when he’d arrived here with his sister. Amanda, they knew, of course, and had cornered her to find out that he was her brother, the Locke heir, who had only just returned to England from several years abroad, which was why they’d never met him or even heard of him before.
Unfortunately, it was more than likely that once he met Ophelia, he would fall at her feet in worship just as every other silly male did, Duncan MacTavish being the only exception to that, which Mavis truly admired him for. Edith and Jane were of the same opinion, had only just been telling Ophelia about him as they brought her up to date on what had been happening, that he was the heir to a dukedom, how handsome and rich he was, how ideally suited he was for her if she was done with her ex-fiancé—when he’d appeared with Sabrina at his side. And it wasn’t by accident that they just happened to leave the room at the same time. They were talking and smiling together as they went off in search of chairs to sit on while they ate.
Of course, the three girls had been there to witness Sabrina’s success last night, in managing to capture Duncan MacTavish’s undivided attention for most of the evening. Jane and Edith had even been having a friendly argument over which of them would try to win him for themselves, now that Ophelia was done with him, until they’d seen how enthralled he seemed to be with Sabrina.
Not that they would ever mention that to Ophelia, at least Jane and Edith wouldn’t, and prayed she didn’t hear of it elsewhere. So they were both a bit incredulous when Mavis remarked with a snort, “Underdog, my foot. I tried to tell you that Sabrina has a winning way about her, but you all scoffed. The proof is she’s got the two most eligible men here vying for her attention.”
That immediately brought Ophelia’s narrowed blue eyes to Mavis with the demand, “What other man? Who are you talking about?”
“Why, your Duncan, of course,” Mavis relished saying before Jane and Edith could stop her.
Having said it, she barely managed to hide a triumphant smile. But she then scored even better, though she didn’t realize it yet. She couldn’t know, after all, that Ophelia had spent the night being uncommunicative with her hosts, locked up in her room, trying to figure out why Duncan hadn’t behaved as he ought to have behaved yesterday at their meeting.
“Didn’t Sabrina tell you how he barely left her side last night?” Mavis added.
Since Ophelia didn’t even know that Sabrina had been here at Summers Glade last night, she was being dealt a double blow. Nor was she adept at concealing her feelings. Though she tried to sound nonchalant in her reply, the myriad of emotions that had crossed her features were a dead giveaway that she was anything but.
“Sabrina isn’t one to reveal confidences,” Ophelia pointed out.
“Nor successes, apparently. Pity,” Mavis replied. “I for one would love to know what they found so amusing, that had them laughing for most of the evening.”
“Imply all you want, Mavis,” Edith jumped in, still trying to defuse Ophelia’s temper, though even she knew it was likely a lost cause, after everything Mavis had revealed. “It doesn’t mean either man would actually consider marrying her. Or are you forgetting her bad blood?”
“Well, who could forget that?” Mavis rejoined, tongue in cheek. “Especially when she appears so happy and—alive. But then it was such a silly rumor.”
“Are you forgetting who started the rumor?” Jane said in
Ophelia’s defense.
“No, actually, I remember perfectly well who spitefully instigated its circulation again.”
There it was at last, a direct insult to Ophelia. Mavis was thrilled that she’d finally had the nerve to do it. And it didn’t go over Ophelia’s head as she’d feared it might. The gorgeous blonde wasn’t quite so gorgeous when her face was beet red with fury.
Edith gasped. Jane was too shocked for speech. Ophelia was sputtering, “Spiteful? You’re ... calling . . . me—!”
“Oh, yes, please do make a scene that will get you booted out of here for a second time,” Mavis interrupted with a brilliant smile. “Then perhaps the rest of us can actually enjoy ourselves again.”
Mavis turned to leave, aware that she’d completely severed her ties with this group, and proud of herself for finally doing so. But Edith and Jane, she had liked, at least when they weren’t behaving like brainless twits around Ophelia, and so she paused long enough to tell them, “When are you two going to wake up and realize that she’s no friend to you? She’d backstab you in a second if she thought it would get her something she wants, and have not a single regret for doing so.”
Mavis sauntered away with a bounce in her step and a grin on her lips. She knew she might as well pack her bags, that some atrocious rumor would start about her that very day. She just didn’t care anymore.
“Well, I never,” Jane huffed, unable to think of anything more appropriate to say after that shocking speech of Mavis’s.
“I never either,” Edith agreed.
“I’m not surprised, myself,” Ophelia said, recovering nicely, if boiling inside. “She’s such a liar, after all. I’ve caught her at it, oh, at least five times before, but was kind enough not to point out that I knew she was lying. Poor dear, I wonder if she just can’t help it. Some people can’t, you know.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The Heir Page 11