The Most Unlikely Lady

by Barbara Devlin

  At his query, she flinched. “Oh, I do not recall. But it does not signify.”

  “Like bloody hell.” Everett sat upright so he could see her eyes. “Sabrina, when did this happen?”

  Her face paled, and she chewed her lip. In that moment, he knew his wife had revealed a secret she had not meant to share.

  When Sabrina maintained telltale silence, which spoke volumes, he grasped her shoulders. “Answer me.”

  “While you were away,” she blurted.

  Everett flung back the covers and leapt from the bed. Before he said something he would regret, he needed to calm himself. But in his current state of undress, he doubted his authority would impress his difficult other half. After a quick search, he snatched his robe from the floor and shoved an arm into each sleeve before securing the belt.

  His guilty bride clutched the sheet to her breasts. “Everett--”

  “Upon my return, you told me nothing untoward occurred.” He raked a hand through his hair and stomped to the bed. “Did you not?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I did.”

  Her duplicity danced as a specter of doom, and something inside him fractured. “You lied to me?”

  “No.” She sobbed.

  “You lied.” Smacking a fist to his palm, he gave vent to an inhuman grunt. “What else would you call your omission?”

  “My lord, it was a harmless oversight on my part.” Sabrina scooted to the edge of the mattress and stood. “I did not want you to think I could not manage the household without you.”

  “So you deceived me?” He snickered. “I would rather you could not manage without me.”

  “It was my intent to make you proud.” With a charming pout that threatened to dissolve his ire, she approached. “Have you no clue? Have you no inkling of the power you wield over me?”

  “Do I appear pleased?” He shuffled his feet.

  “No.” Her chin quivered.

  “I thought you incapable of deceit.” What hurt worse, her untruthfulness or the fact that he had been fooled, Everett knew not. “It is obvious I was mistaken.”

  “Please, forgive me.” As though embarrassed by her nudity, she slipped into the sheer creation that shielded little from his stare. “It will not happen again, I promise.”

  “I consider myself a tolerant man, Sabrina. But I will brook no deceit in our marriage.” Through a haze of anger and betrayal, Everett clutched her arms. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Fear permeated her expression, and he cursed himself.

  “Yes.” She bent her head. “I am sorry you find me so lacking.”

  Regardless of an overwhelming desire to comfort his wife, he stormed from the room. Once he gained his chambers, he stood stock still in the middle of the master suite. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he inhaled deeply.

  And then it dawned on him.

  The words sank in, penetrating his thick skull.

  I am sorry you find me so lacking.

  As a cruel refrain, her statement replayed a rapid salvo, haunting and taunting. In that instant, the room spun out of control, and he broke into a sweat. His ears rang, and he doubled over in pain. Then he ran to the basin, where he wretched. After a few minutes, Everett wiped his face with a towel and sank to the floor.

  How many times had he uttered the same apology?

  Cradling his head in his hands, he inhaled a shaky breath. He would not hurt her as his parents had hurt him, and yet he had struck a lethal blow. His displeasure with Sabrina’s omission had blinded him to the content of his mother’s verbal abuse. After the unfortunate incident in the dining room, could he blame his countess for concealing further shame?

  Resolved to make amends and declare himself, he shot to his feet and retraced his steps. In the little corridor, he paused at her door when he overheard his wife conversing with her lady’s maid. Closing his eyes, he faltered and lost his courage.

  “Bloody hell.” Again, he failed.

  #

  “Sabrina?” The marchioness waved to a footman and requested an additional portion of eggs.

  In the process of sipping her coffee, Sabrina flinched at the mention of her name in the all-too-familiar clipped tone and nearly spilt the hot liquid in her lap. What on earth could her mother-in-law want now? “Yes, my lady?”

  “Celia and I are calling on some friends who live nearby.” Spreading marmalade on a slice of toast, she stared down her nose. “You are welcome to join us, if you like.”

  She hesitated to answer, as her suspicions roused in an instant. Was it a trick? Another attempt to humiliate her? Sabrina frowned. Her mother-in-law need not expend much effort in that endeavor. She had stumbled all by herself, and she may have alienated her greatest ally.

  “Oh, do come, Sabrina,” Celia exclaimed. “It would be such fun.”

  A dark figure loomed at the opposite end of the table. Even in silence, her husband’s presence, palpable as London fog, had cocooned her in misery. After their argument in her bedchamber, she was grateful for the distance, but the separation offered little shelter.

  She could feel his gaze, dark, angry, and disapproving, as a weight in her chest. Perhaps a day trip would benefit her.

  “Thank you, Lady Elizabeth.” Sabrina managed a brittle smile. “I should be honored to accompany you.”

  “Perfect. We shall leave directly.” The marchioness dabbed the corners of her mouth and set her napkin on the table. “Come, Celia, we must dress for calling.”

  With a silent prayer that she had not made a horrible mistake, Sabrina pushed from her chair.

  At the same time, Everett and the marquess stood.

  “What say I give you a hand with the accounts?” her father-in-law suggested. “We can tally the totals for the month.”

  “All right.” Everett nodded. “And if you would care to take a ride, I need to check on some of the tenants.”

  Although her relationship with her husband had taken a turn for the worse, Sabrina was glad to see Everett carrying on a civil conversation with his father. The marquess followed his wife and Celia out of the dining room, which left her alone with her angry earl.

  Unwilling to enact another scene, intent on exiting as swift and sure as possible, Sabrina sidestepped her spouse. But he caught her by the wrist, and she was forced to halt. As he turned her to face him, she focused on the intricate folds of his cravat.

  “You wish to speak with me, my lord?” She cursed herself when her voice quivered.

  “I take it you are going out today?”

  “I am.” That was better. Sabrina vanquished the frightened little girl but kept her gaze averted, knowing she could maintain her composure as long as she avoided looking Everett in the eyes.

  He trailed her jawline with his finger, and then tipped her chin, which forced her to meet his inquisitive stare. “Will you be all right?”

  “I assure you, I am quite capable of behaving myself.” Could he not trust her to make a simple house call without causing him further embarrassment? Bloody hell, she pouted, she knew it, and she seemed powerless to stop it.

  With a frown she felt to her toes, Everett inclined his head. “That is not what I meant.”

  “Is it not?” Blast her hide, she whined.

  “No.” He cupped her cheek. “I wish I would not keep putting myself in the position of owing you an apology, but it appears inevitable. I am sorry I was short with you this morning.”

  “It is forgotten.” She tried to escape, but he held her fast.

  “I do not think it is.” Everett sighed, as he studied her with his too-knowing amber gaze, bent his head, and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “In any case, I sincerely regret spoiling an otherwise memorable morning. Have patience with me, darling. This is my first marriage and my first earldom. I am bound to make mistakes.”

  Although he extended an olive branch, she found no joy in his kiss or his overture, because she feared she had done irreparable damage to their union. Little by little, one blunder
after another, she had eroded his heretofore-unshakeable support, and she had no one to blame but herself.

  “So you are making calls today?” Her shameless lord adjusted his cravat.

  “Indeed.” Drowning in a pit of remorse, she accepted his escort, and they strolled into the hall. “And I am truly sorry I did not tell you of the confrontation with your mother. Rest assured, that is an oversight I will not repeat.”

  “Somehow, I know you will not.” Everett cast her a boyish smile. “And if it helps, my father has spoken to her concerning her treatment of you.” He nipped her nose in a playful gesture, as was his habit, which she loved. “I believe she understands you and I are married, for better or worse.”

  “So I am forgiven, at last?” She held her breath.

  “Perhaps.” He glanced at the ceiling, as if pondering his answer. “For another kiss?”

  Sabrina exhaled in relief. As their mouths met, she caught his lower lip between her teeth and tickled it with her tongue. Then she angled her head and lured him into a searing kiss that made their last one seem chaste.

  In seconds, six feet of aroused male cornered her against a wall. “How long before you depart?”

  “Everett, please.” She squirmed from his embrace. “Your mother awaits, and I am loathe to inconvenience her.”

  “All right.” He groaned. “Then I suppose I shall mark the minutes until tonight to sate my senses in you.”

  “And that reminds me.” She snapped her fingers. “I must leave word for the cook to defer dinner an extra hour, as I am not sure when I shall return. But I will have cook prepare a light snack for you and your father. Perhaps some Bath buns, black butter, and gooseberry cheese?”

  “My favorite treat.” He nudged her with his hips. “Second only to my wife.”

  “My lord, that is lovely, but I must change.” She ignored the fluttering in the pit of her belly. “Your mother will be furious if I delay her appointments.”

  “Then I should help you, and you will be ready twice as fast.” He smacked her bottom, in play.

  “You only want to undress me.” She skipped beyond his reach. “I will see you tonight.”

  “Sabrina--wait.” Everett caught her wrist. “There is something I would say.”

  “Yes.” She paused, as he cleared his throat. “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing…it is just…I wanted you to know…oh, damn.” Spearing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled his feet. Then, without warning, he yanked her into his arms. Caressing her cheek with his thumb, he sighed. “I am truly sorry for this morning, darling.”

  How she needed his kindness just then. “But it was my fault--”

  “No. I understand your motivation more than you know, and you are blameless.” He rested his forehead to hers. “My dear, in future there may be breakers, but we will survive if we navigate them, together.”

  “Oh, Everett. I am happy to hear you say it.” Sabrina swallowed hard. “And I do so wish to make you proud.”

  “Darling Sabrina.” He closed his eyes and pressed on her an inexpressibly sweet kiss--and kept kissing her.

  Yes, she would be late.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  As the carriage lurched forward, a stubborn blush plagued Sabrina. Images of the brief tryst with her husband, only minutes ago in her sitting room, flooded her thoughts.

  Once she and Everett had gained her apartments and thrown the bolt on the door, he pushed her to her knees on the chaise. After advising her to grab hold of the back, he flicked her skirts to her waist. Fully clothed, he knelt between her bent legs, freed his erection, and took her from behind.

  It had been quick but effective.

  “What are you grinning about?” From the opposite seat, the marchioness glared.

  “Oh, nothing.” Sabrina cleared her throat, shifted in the squabs, and gave her attention to the passing landscape. “Perhaps it is the thought of making new acquaintances.”

  At her side, Celia sat in silence, and though she could not see the younger woman’s expression, Sabrina knew her friend smiled.

  They called on Lady DeWinter first.

  To her surprise, Sabrina discovered a genuine fondness for the elderly woman. Lady DeWinter, with her kind face and gentle manners, had laughed without restraint during their conversation.

  Exactly what Sabrina said to cause such a response, she knew not. One thing was certain, the marchioness was displeased with her daughter-in-law when their visit concluded.

  Enclosed in their coach, her mother-in-law made her discomfit known. “I have never been so humiliated in my life.”

  Sabrina said nothing and, God bless her, neither had Celia.

  The marchioness caught her in a narrow-eyed stare. “Really, Sabrina, how could you behave so recklessly, without any regard for Everett and his title?”

  Sabrina held her tongue, biting down on the tip. Mentally replaying the social call, she could think of nothing she had said or done to merit such censure. Since her mother-in-law needed no prodding to criticize Sabrina, she remained quiet.

  But the marchioness would not be deterred. “You consumed half a pot of tea and six pieces of shortbread. A lady is known by the delicacy of her appetite.”

  And that was Sabrina’s fault?

  Her shameless, insatiable husband was responsible for her hunger, because lovemaking always left her famished. Had the marchioness not been so insistent they leave directly, Sabrina would have headed for the kitchens in search of another meal.

  In the interest of keeping the peace, she sighed. “I apologize, my lady. In the future, I shall pay more attention to my habits.”

  “See that you do,” the marchioness snapped.

  The coach stopped before another grand estate, the second appointment of their outing. Sabrina accepted a hand from the footman as she stepped down behind the marchioness, who greeted another acquaintance.

  As she made to follow, Celia grasped her elbow.

  “What is it?” Sabrina inquired.

  Celia glanced at the marchioness, then leaned close to whisper, “Do exactly what I do, and we shall survive the day with nary a complaint.”

  Sabrina could not help but smile. “What would I do without you?”

  The remainder of the visits passed uneventfully, and soon the three women were nestled in the coach for the return journey to Beaumaris.

  Having followed Celia’s suggestion, Sabrina feared she would faint from hunger before she ever got home. She was positive the young woman had a stomach the size of a sparrow’s. How else could Celia exist on such meager fare? As her belly protested, she made a mental note to have dinner moved up a half-hour.

  And she wondered what it was about being a proper lady that was so exhaustive? Could it be that she was forced to scrutinize her every move and carefully consider her words before she uttered a single sentence? In dire need of a nap, she could barely keep her eyes open. After a while, she settled in the squabs and let her heavy lids fall.

  Some time later, she awakened to the sound of gunfire.

  “What is happening?” The marchioness screamed, and her hands flew to her throat.

  “Sabrina.” Celia shook her hard.

  She sat up and peered outside.

  Three masked horsemen waved pistols in the air.

  Sabrina shrugged. “It appears we are about to be robbed.”

  “Oh, dear.” The marchioness grabbed Celia and hugged her close.

  “What will we do?” Celia’s eyes grew wide and watery. “Will they hurt us?”

  The coach lurched as the driver spurred the team in what was no doubt an attempt to outrun the highwaymen. Though his efforts were commendable, Sabrina knew his actions were futile. If the highwaymen wanted to rob them--they would.

  “Robberies are a common occurrence when venturing to and from London,” Sabrina explained. “I daresay it is the same in the country. There is no cause for alarm.”

  Celia and the marchioness kept a death grip on each other, and Sabrina
tried to reassure them by patting their white-knuckled fists. “It will be all right as long as we cooperate. They want our valuables, nothing more.”

  Outside, the bandits managed to head off the team and eventually brought the coach to a grinding halt. The driver and footmen were ordered down at gunpoint. Sabrina gulped as they were forced to the roadside, their hands in the air. On command, their escort knelt in the grass.

  She had been robbed while in the company of her family. Then, there had been no weapons displayed, and a threat was implied to gain compliance.

  One of the highwaymen opened the door to their coach. “Awright, lovies, step lively now.” With a jerk of his pistol, he motioned for the ladies to disembark.

  “Certainly.” With palms splayed, Sabrina nodded. She exited first, and then turned to help the marchioness and Celia disembark. Glancing to the side, she spied a third highwayman holding the team in check.

  “There is no need for violence. We will give you no trouble,” she stated in a calm fashion. “Please take what you want and leave us on our way.”

  “Well now, look who thinks she’s the queen o’ this gang.” The highwayman at the reins dropped the leader and approached. His leering smile bared horribly crooked teeth. “We will take what we want.” He eyed her from head to foot. “Whatever we want.”

  Celia shrieked and drew his interest.

  “My, what a pretty thing you are.” He reached out and caught Celia’s chin. “Bet you’re unbroken.”

  Pulling Celia close, he fondled her breast. Her face paled, and Celia sobbed.

  “Get your hands off of her,” Sabrina barked.

  He jerked his head and he leered at Sabrina. “And if I don’t?”

  Sabrina bit her lip. She could not endanger her friend and her mother-in-law, so she reconsidered her tack. “We have jewelry.” She slipped her wedding ring from her finger. “Take it and go.”

  “I will.” The blackguard sneered. “But I believe I’ll pluck this bauble first.” The highwayman snaked an arm about Celia and hugged her to him.

  “Sabrina,” Celia cried and stretched out her arms.

  Lady Elizabeth screamed and cowered, covering her eyes with her hands.