This morning when Sabrina passed through Oxbow on her typical walking route, she had four encounters that pretty much convinced her to give up her old routines, at least for a while. It was one thing to get on with her life if she could avoid thinking about Duncan, but quite another when people inadvertently thrust him into her thoughts. Unfortunately, Duncan, still so new to the neighborhood, was going to be a major topic for a good long time. Sir Albert was also getting his share of gossip now, but Duncan, in line for such a lofty title, was still of more interest.

The first two encounters each told her that Duncan had gone off to London, most likely to buy his bride a special wedding gift. The third encounter, with old Mrs. Spode, was only slightly different.

Mrs. Spode was a cantankerous old lady, one of Sabrina’s aunts’ more amusing friends, and she scoffed at the “wedding gift” assumption, whispering to Sabrina that the young lord was more likely off on a last bit of oat sowing in London before the nuptials, especially since Lord Locke, a known rake, had gone with him.

“Now I ask you, would Lord Locke know where to find wedding gifts, or would he know where to find ladies of ill repute? The latter, of course. If the young lord comes back with a gift, it will be one of those unmentionable diseases.” And the old girl had cackled at her own wit.

Sabrina did not encourage that conversation, in fact, left Mrs. Spode in what might be considered very rude haste. But before she could get out of town completely, she had her fourth encounter.

This one was the worst, with Duncan’s grandfather. Not Neville. Him, she probably could have managed quite nicely—if she could have gotten past the shock of finding him in Oxbow. But it was the Scots grandfather who hailed her as he came out of Oxbow’s combination inn and tavern, the grandfather she hadn’t actually met yet, though he seemed to know her well enough to call her by name.

“Yer Duncan’s friend Sabrina, aye?” At her nod, he continued, “I had been meaning tae meet ye at Summers Glade, but ye stopped visiting. I’d wondered at that. Most o’ the other lassies hied it back tae London when they didna win the lad, which was understandable. But ye now—I didna think ye were there for that.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Then why did ye stop coming?”

The direct question, and in such an accusing tone, caused a blush. Unfortunately, Archibald noticed it and interpreted it correctly.

“Sae, ‘tis like that, is it? Ye’ve let yerself feel more for the lad than friendship?”

To admit that, to him in particular, was almost a guarantee that it would get back to Duncan, which, under the circumstances, was the very last thing she wanted. Lying, though, which she abhorred doing but had no choice but to do in this case, caused an even worse blush.

“That isn’t the case a’tall. Duncan is charming, I like him a lot, but really, just as a friend.”

His expression was skeptical, even though he went along with her assertion by saying, “Och, I’m glad tae be hearing that. No’ that ye arena a sweet lass, I’m sure, but ye ken auld Neville was worried aboot the amount o’ time the lad was giving tae ye, and Duncan did assure us o’ that same thing, that ye are merely a friend, albeit a verra good friend. I’d hazard e’en tae say yer his best friend just now, which is why I found it strange that ye’d desert him in his—”

“Excuse me?” she cut in, her voice quite stiff now, but because of that “worried about the amount of time” remark, which, of course had to do with her scandal, rather than his last accusation. “How have I deserted him? Just because I was feeling a bit under the weather and kept to my bed for a few days doesn’t mean I have deserted him. And I have spoken to him since the engagement.”

“Ah, well, I didna know that,” he replied, and then uncomfortably, “Did he, ah, mention tae ye aboot the, er . . silliness that led tae his—”

He coughed, giving up trying to ask her what had been confided to her, without actually mentioning what might have been confided. She almost laughed over his difficulty, though it wouldn’t have been with much humor, when the subject was still so painful.

But she did take pity on him and admitted, “If you mean did Duncan tell me that he didn’t actually ask Ophelia to marry him, and mentioned to me what led to their renewed engagement, yes, he did.”

Archibald sighed in relief. “Then I can speak freely. Good, I dinna like pussyfooting around a subject. This is why I was concerned wi’ yer absence, lass, ye ken? He’s in need o’ friends just now. I hope ye were able tae cheer him a wee bit when ye spoke tae him?”

Cheer him? That had been a very painful encounter with Duncan that day on the road. Hearing that he was forced to marry Ophelia was almost as bad as thinking he wanted to. But then she had two very different accounts on their relationship from the both of them. Ophelia was known to lie, so her assertion that Duncan was still passionate for her might have been fabrication, and yet, what if Duncan’s assertion that he didn’t want Ophelia was the lie instead?

He had reminded her that the only real compromising had been done to her. Had that been his intent all along? Had he asked Ophelia to marry him in a moment of passion and quickly regretted it as soon as he left her? Then used Sabrina to give him a way to get out of it?

She didn’t want to believe that of him, yet it could have happened exactly that way. Why would Ophelia lie about the time that he’d asked her to marry him, after all? Just because Sabrina had been unable to hide that the answer was extremely important to her?

She was deluding herself, though, trying to see him in a bad light in hope that it would kill her love for him. It just didn’t work. She didn’t really think he had lied to her. But even if he had, there’d been no doubting that he was now miserable over whatever he’d done.

She had wanted to cheer him up that day. The urge had been strong. But how could she cheer up anyone when she was so miserable herself?

Archibald’s question, though, she decided to simply avoid altogether, and did so by mentioning, “I heard just today that Duncan has gone to London. Perhaps the trip will take his mind off of—”

“Nae, he’s gone searching for the Newbolt lass, sae his mind will be on nothing else.”

She was surprised and hopeful, hearing that. “He knows where to look then?”

“No’ really,” he said, disappointing her. “He didna like sitting aboot doing nothing while Neville’s people searched, sae he’s gone hisself. No’ that he’s likely tae find her, and he knows it. There’s just no’ enough time afore the wedding.”

“I suppose not.” She managed to keep from sighing.

“I wanted tae simply postpone it m’self, but Neville seems tae think that any prevaricating on our part will start the scandal brewing.”

“Then you must hope he gets lucky.”

“A slim hope. But if he does manage tae get oout o’ this predicament and is back tae looking for a bride, I’ve a feeling he will be asking ye tae wed.”

Sabrina blinked. “Me?”

“Aye, but it would be for the wrong reasons, ye ken? He wants ye near tae hand is all. He showed how far he’s willing tae go tae hae ye near, by bringing ye tae the gathering, e’en though it brought Ophelia as well. He’d move ye intae Summers Glade if it werena inappropriate. I’m thinking he’d marry ye just tae get ye there permanently. He values yer friendship that much. But it is only that. Dinna let him fool ye intae thinking there’s more tae his feelings. Ye’d both sorely regret it if ye do.”

Sabrina prayed she could hold back her emotions for just another few moments, until she could escape from this unwanted conversation. She’d heard the first time what Archibald had said, that Duncan had assured him that she was just a friend. She had put it from her mind when he said it, because to think about it was to rip her heart apart yet again. Yet he’d just thrust it into the open once more, where she couldn’t possibly ignore it now. A friend. She was only a friend. She’d never be more than a friend.

“You are creating worries over something that has little chance of ever occurring, when the wedding is only two days away.”

“True.” He sighed. “And m’apologies, lass, for feeling a need tae warn ye—just in case. Ye will come tae the wedding, aye?”

Sit there and watch Duncan and Ophelia be joined forever more? No way in hell, which had her lying yet again, though evasively this time.

“I’m sure everyone who receives an invitation will be in attendance. Now I really must get home. My aunts didn’t expect me to be gone this long and will begin to worry”

She didn’t hear his second sigh as she hurried off. Archibald was already regretting what he’d said to her. He didn’t doubt any of it, he just realized, belatedly, that he had put the cart before the horse. There’d been no reason to warn her of anything, when Duncan was likely to marry the other girl. If he was saved from that, then that would have been the time to do any warning, not beforehand.