"I'm sorry aboot your parents."
"So am I. I regret mostly not even knowing them, since I was too young at the time to remember them. But they didn't kill themselves. It was tainted food. Even the doctor who arrived too late to help them said so. Of course, it makes for a much better story, that they took poison together. And now, even though my aunts, from the same tree, are quite hale and hardy, with no inclination to go walking off any cliffs, I'm next in line to take the tragic plunge."
"I canna think o' anyone less likely tae take anything so seriously that they'd come e'en close tae contemplating ending it all."
"Goodness, I believe you've just called me a carefree scatterbrain" "I did nae such thing," he snorted. "I'm gravely insulted."
"The devil y'are"
She humphed. "Well, it was certainly a golden opportunity to say so."
He burst out laughing, loud enough that a few heads turned their way. One fellow who'd been walking around with plate in hand—Neville didn't possess two hundred chairs either, so not everyone could sit down to eat—sauntered over to them. Sabrina could almost feel Duncan stiffening and was quite annoyed that her effort to amuse him had just gone to waste.
"So here you are, and who is this?" the fellow asked. "Don't believe we've met."
He was looking to Duncan to make the introduction, but the Highlander was suddenly blushing, and Sabrina realized, belatedly, that she'd never given him her full name. Before Duncan had to admit that and be even more embarrassed, she supplied, "Sabrina Lambert."
The fellow was surprised at first, but then seemed quite delighted. "The walking ghost? This is a pleasure. I was quite disappointed to have missed you in London recently. Truly wanted to meet the young lady who had everyone showing what bloody fools they are."
She smiled, realizing that she was actually meeting someone who didn't believe the rumors about her. "And you would be?"
"Raphael Locke, most definitely at your service." "And most definitely intruding," Duncan added.
Raphael wasn't insulted, seemed instead to have expected just such a remark. "Oh, come now, old chap, you don't think you can monopolize the most interesting lady here, do you?"
"Should you no' be chaperoning your sister?" Duncan reminded him pointedly.
Raphael looked appalled. "The dear chit is surrounded by a gaggle of giggling friends. God forbid I get anywhere near them. Do have a heart. Besides, you should brave that bunch. You're the one shopping for a bride, after all, not I. How can you make a proper decision if you don't mingle?"
"Perhaps I've already made a decision."
"Never say so! My sister will be sooo disappointed."
"Your sister will be relieved."
"You're going to ask for her then?"
"Bedamned, go away , mon."
Raphael chuckled, apparently satisfied that he'd annoyed Duncan enough—for now—but he did part with, "Very well, I shall go in search of that old Scotsman who claims to be another grandfather of yours. Very amusing, what he has to say about you, and I just love good ammunition, don't you know."
It took quite a while for the color to leave Duncan's cheeks after Raphael Locke left them. Sabrina might have been able to put him at ease sooner, but then again, she might have made his annoyance worse, the roots being in male rivalry, which was beyond her comprehension. Besides, she was having a
real hard time with the realization that she just might have been the bone of contention they'd just fought over.
In the end she decided she'd imagined it, and by then Duncan had calmed down enough to ask her, "Have you heard o' him prior tae just meeting him?"
"No, should I have?"
He shrugged, saying, "Auld Neville is delighted he's here. A duke's son, he is, apparently." She smiled. "That would make his sister a fine catch for you then."
"D'you think so? She seems a bit scatterbrained tae me, and aye, this time I said it. E'en her brother agrees, but I just might marry her tae spite him."
"Oh my, you really don't like him, do you?"
"Och, nay, how can you think so, when m'fist is so eager tae get more friendly with his face?"
Chapter Twenty
Sabrina was enjoying herself too much to have realized any sooner that the reason for it was that Duncan hadn't left her side. He had even eaten with her, finding them a couple of empty chairs in the music room to take their plates to. And afterward they had joined a game of cards where she had found it necessary to teach him how to play it as they went along, without letting the other two players be aware of it. Now, that had been hilarious. She hadn't laughed so much herself in a very long time.
When it did finally occur to her that as the guest of honor at the party, or at least the very reason they were even having a party, he should be dividing his time more equally among the guests, she didn't point that out to him as she should have. She was having a bout of selfishness and fully acknowledged it. And she decided that as long as she recognized it for what it was, and didn't try to delude herself, she could indulge it just this once.
Nor did she try to delude herself about why he was staying near her. He had laughed too much during the evening for her to think other than that he'd simply enjoyed her company. There was nothing romantic about it. She made him laugh. She was fun to be around.
It had been an enchanting night for her, though, the stuff of fanciful dreams. But all dreams must come to an end, and her one night at Summers Glade did as well.
When she saw her aunt looking for her, with their coats over her arm, she turned to Duncan and told him, "I must be going."
He didn't protest because he fully expected her to be there every day for the duration, and said as much. "I'll see you in the morning, then."
"No, actually, you won't."
She sighed, really regretting what she needed to tell him. He was already starting to frown, but she'd put this off all evening and couldn't any longer. It was a shame, though, it really was, that this wonderful night, for her at least, had to end like this.
"When you invited me here, well, in my original surprise I completely overlooked the fact that my aunts and I have a houseguest ourselves just now. I shouldn't even have come tonight. It's not as if I was committed before our guest showed up, and she does know that. So I can't be rude and desert her a second time."
"You didna want tae come."
She smiled at his mistaken conclusion, which was so completely illogical that she was sure even he knew it, and told him, "Nonsense. I've enjoyed myself tonight. I really would like to come again, and perhaps if our guest leaves before your house party ends, then I can—"
"Bring her along," he cut in.
"Ah, Duncan, shouldn't you ask who my guest is, before you make an offer like that?" "As long as it isna Ophelia—"
He didn't continue. Her expression, which told him clearly that it was Ophelia, had him really scowling now.
He was practically growling when he got around to adding, "Bedamned, what is she doing staying wi' you?"
That, at least, was easy enough to explain. "Taking advantage of the same courtesy her family extended to mine when we were recently in London."
"And running her errands, was that part o' the same courtesy?" he asked.
"No, that was settling all debts," she said, still smiling despite his testy tone. "She befriended me, Duncan, and made my first trip to London much easier than it would otherwise have been. I couldn't very well refuse her one request, even though I didn't want to do it, when I felt so obliged to her. But now I feel that debt has been paid."
"Then ignore that she's there, or leave her wi' your other aunt again, as you did t'night"
She shook her head at him. "Do you really see me being that rude to someone?"
He said nothing for a long moment, then he sighed. "Nae, I ken you wouldna do that. And I'll let you go afore you're thinking I'm a spoiled lad, wi' the way I keep behaving when I dinna get my way."
"I wouldn't think that." She grinned at him. "A Highland barb
arian perhaps—"
"Begone wi' you," he shot back, but he was grinning now, too.
"Perhaps I'll see you on one of my walks again," she offered in parting.
"Aye, and perhaps you'll be getting rid o' unwanted guests sooner than later."
He walked her and her aunt to the door, and stood there a moment with the butler as they got into the waiting coach, long enough for the butler to take note of it and remark, "A nice girl, our Miss Sabrina."
Duncan turned to Mr. Jacobs. "Our? You've known her long?"
"Yes, she's lived here most of her life."
"These walks she takes, does she take them often?" Duncan asked.
"Every day, no matter the weather," Jacobs replied. "She prefers the mornings, but sometimes she'll go out again in the afternoon"
Duncan nodded, thinking about taking a walk himself tomorrow morning—until he realized that an hour or so of her company just wouldn't be enough. And both his grandfathers would have a fit if he disappeared most of the day, when he had the job of finding a wife to do.
After having enjoyed himself that evening, really enjoyed himself for the first time since he'd come to England, he went to bed that night in a very disagreeable mood.
In the coach rambling toward Cottage by the Bow, the manor house that was so named years ago when it was still part of the old ducal estate, Hilary was rambling herself about the party. Sabrina wasn't really paying attention, was still savoring her own experiences from the evening, until she heard, "He likes you."
That definitely caught her attention and didn't even need explaining, since she knew her aunt well enough to know just who she meant. "Yes, I believe he does, but not in the way you mean."
Hilary took offense on Sabrina's behalf and huffed, "And why not in that way?"
"Let's be truthful, Aunt Hilary, if you put someone like me next to someone like Ophelia or even Amanda Locke, I wouldn't even be noticed. And the crème de la crème of English aristocracy has been invited here by Lord Neville to tempt his grandson into marriage. You saw for yourself tonight, the young women in attendance weren't the same young hopefuls who descended on London this Season with us. A few of them were, but most of those that Neville invited don't need to go on the marriage block, they quite know their worth and don't need to parade it about."
"Posh, what has that to do with the fact that he likes you ?"
"We've become friends, nothing more than that," Sabrina replied. "When he does actually choose his bride, it will be from one of the beautiful—"
"You're no wallflower, m'dear. You may like to think so, but it just ain't so."
Sabrina sighed. It was nice to hear, of course, but one of them had to be realistic, or she'd be getting a swelled head and start hoping for something that just couldn't be.
"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 washer 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?"
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