Chapter Twenty-Seven
“HE LOCKED YOU in your room?” Alex’s brows drew together thunderously. “Did he do this frequently? Did he—Did he harm you?”
“No. He never hurt me. He’d never locked me up before this or threatened me. He was always quite pleasant. Even paternal. He didn’t need to be. He just manipulated me. Doing all the things they did for me—it was to make me feel obligated. Dependent on them. Even Mrs. Dearborn buying me those girlish dresses—they wanted me to seem young, to feel young and naive. I was shy, but I can see now that they encouraged that in me. They could have taken me to London. I didn’t have to make my debut or call on many people. I could have just gone to plays and museums and art galleries. Libraries.” Her eyes shone. “All the things you took me to see.”
“But they didn’t encourage you to visit.”
“Just the opposite. They never suggested I go when Peter or Mr. Dearborn traveled to London. The only traveling I did was to my own house in Somerset when Mr. Dearborn went to see if it was being managed properly. And even then, I didn’t always go with them. It was a given that I would stay with Peter’s mother in the country, seeing the same people, doing the same things.”
“You were bored.”
“Yes. Much as I love books, I wanted to do other things. Over the years, I grew less shy. Lilah’s letters about all the things she did...the parties, the dresses, the people, the opera—it all sounded so lively and fun. I wanted to go visit her. Indeed, I would have liked to return to Carmoor to live. But Mr. and Mrs. Dearborn discouraged that. Whenever I wanted to accept one of Lilah’s invitations, they would remind me how much I disliked crowds and meeting new people, how I’d never wanted to go to London before. Mr. Dearborn would say how much he feared I would regret it and would want to come back home right away. And I feared he was right, that I would hate it and I would look foolish to have insisted on going.”
“So you would give in and not go.”
She nodded. “Mrs. Dearborn would worry and fuss, and she has always been so very kind to me. She didn’t like London, but she insisted on accompanying me if I went. A young lady couldn’t make such a journey on her own, and, anyway, I wouldn’t know what to do or where to go. It would have meant burdening her, which I hated to do, when she had been so good to me. I believed they were concerned for me, wanted the best for me. Once or twice I resisted because I wanted so much to see Lilah, to do something different, and those times, he would agree, but then one thing or another happened—some crisis arose on my land and of course he had to go there, and it was unthinkable that I travel to London without his escort. Or it was too cold or hot, and we should wait for better weather. Or Mrs. Dearborn became ill, and we had to delay, until finally the idea just died. I can see now that they purposely made it difficult. That they wanted to keep me there.”
“Where Dearborn could control you. He kept you away from your friend, kept you from making new acquaintances, emphasized every fear or concern you had, painted dire consequences if you left there. Played on your kindness and your regard for Mrs. Dearborn.”
“I was such a fool,” Sabrina said bitterly. “I never questioned anything he did. I never asked to look at his accounting of the money my father left me. Never made a move on my own.”
“You weren’t a fool. You were young, and you’d lost both your parents. He was your guardian, your father’s friend—you’d known him all your life. Of course you trusted him and depended on him. And when you made any attempt to move away from that dependence, he thwarted it. My guess is his main concern was that you might meet someone in London, might fall in love and marry someone other than his son.”
“He was always hopeful that Peter and I would make a match of it. So was Mrs. Dearborn. She would talk about how wonderful it would be, how I was a daughter to her, and when Peter and I married, I would be her daughter in fact. She would tell me romantic tales of other couples who had known each other all their lives and gradually grew into loving one another or suddenly realized that they did. I didn’t say much to dissuade her, I’m afraid. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But I knew I would never marry Peter. He was—He was like a brother or a close cousin. Part of my family. I had no desire to marry him.”
“What about Peter? Did he pursue you?”
“He was attentive whenever he was home. We talked a great deal. Once or twice he seemed to be working around to a proposal, but I managed to wriggle out of it before any damage was done. He never...” She cast a sideways glance at Alex. “He never said the sort of things you have. Or did the things you have. But he could have just been gentlemanly.”
“I’m very glad he’s such a gentleman. Such a foolish gentleman.” He wanted quite badly to pull her up from her chair and kiss her, but he forced himself to stay focused on the issue at hand. “I’m sure Dearborn was getting worried as your birthday approached. You would come into your estate, and he would no longer have any legal hold on you.”
“Yes, he talked more and more about Peter and me marrying. He went from suggesting it or explaining how beneficial and easy it would be to trying to talk me into it. We quarreled a bit about it a time or two. That was another reason why I wanted so much to accept Lilah’s invitation to visit her. I needed to be away from them. It was so cloying, so suffocating there. I felt quite guilty about it, given all they’d done for me. But, deep down, I yearned to get away from them, to be on my own. Free and independent. I wanted to see things. Do things. Make decisions for myself. Buy the clothes I wanted.”
“Of course you did.”
“So that afternoon, I told Mr. Dearborn that Lilah had invited me, and I wanted to go. He brought up all the usual arguments, and when he wasn’t able to persuade me not to go, he suggested I postpone my visit. He wanted me to think about whether it was really what I wanted to do. I told him I didn’t want to wait. We quarreled more than we ever had before. And finally he said I couldn’t go. He wouldn’t let me. I was furious, and I told him he couldn’t stop me, I would go anyway. He said he was my guardian, so he could refuse permission. He knew what was best for me and he had a duty, a responsibility. Then, as if offering me a treat, I suppose, he said that I could go to London with Peter after we were married.”
“And you told him you were never going to marry Peter.”
“Yes. I had never been so blunt before, but I was terribly angry. I told him I was going to leave when I turned twenty-one and I would move to London if I chose to. We had a bitter quarrel, and at one point he grabbed the letter and it tore. That was why I had only that one torn sheet. He crumpled up the rest of it and threw it in the fireplace. Finally, it all ended with him telling me I was spoiled and silly, and I must go to my room and think about my behavior.”
“As if you were ten.”
“Yes. I was so incensed that I ran up to my room and slammed the door. I was going to just pack my bags and leave. And then...I heard him turn the key in the lock!”
“What did you do?”
“I was determined not to stay there. I packed my case. I knew I must wait until everyone went to bed before I sneaked out. I planned to climb down—there was a balcony off my room, and at the end of it was a trellis of roses. I’d always been pretty agile at climbing when I was young. I was going to put on my riding gloves to protect myself from the thorns and climb down the trellis, take my horse from the stable and ride away, catch a train to London. The maid brought me supper, and I ate it. I wrapped up the roll and put it in my case to have something to eat later. Then I sat down to wait for everyone else to retire. I began to feel very sleepy.”
“He put something in your food.”
“I think so.”
“Did he say anything about Andover? Or Winchester?”
“No, not that afternoon. I suppose he may have mentioned them in the past, but just in a general way. I don’t know why he would have taken me there. Why take me somewhere else at all?”
“Maybe he thought the local vicar would not participate in such a sham.”
“True. And I think Mrs. Dearborn might have balked at that. I do think she liked me and enjoyed my company. Besides, the servants would have talked about it. It would have been all over the village.”
“Do you remember anything about your journey?”
“I have a very vague memory of being in a coach.” She paused, thinking. “Not really a memory of the coach but of that motion, and I woke up a little once. The motion had stopped. I could hear voices outside and there were lights...” She shook her head. “That’s all I remember. It’s not very helpful, I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps you’ll remember more. You didn’t remember this at first. If you relax and don’t try to force yourself, just let your mind drift...”
She closed her eyes. After a moment, she said softly, “I fell.”
“From the window?”
“No. Not that kind of falling.” Eyes still closed, she went on, “Stumbling and falling. Someone grabbed my arm. I felt weak and dizzy, and everything sort of swirled around me. I think I remember someone shaking me, and I—I might have said something. That man who kept talking wore a white collar, and he’s—I can see his face, but it’s very vague. He’s rather young. He’s smiling at me, and I feel as if I’m about to be sick right there in front of him.” She opened her eyes and shrugged. “That’s all.”
“It’s all right.” Alex took her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ve remembered a good deal more. Would you recognize the man who wore the collar?”
“I’m not sure. Possibly. But I...was unable to focus. That’s what’s so frightening about those memories. I couldn’t make myself look at things. I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t wake up. Oh, Alex.” Sabrina jumped to her feet and began to pace, wrapping her arms around herself. “I think I must have married him. That was surely a wedding!”
“No, that wasn’t a real marriage. It was clearly without your consent. You were drugged, incapable of making any decision. That makes it a fraud. Coercion.” Alex took her arms and peered intently into her face. “Sabrina, listen to me. Do not worry. I swear to you on everything I hold dear, I will not let him have you. You will not be his wife—even if I have to make you a widow.”