Chapter 19
Sabrina’s soul was decidedly lighter when she awoke the next morning. Though she didn’t wake of her own accord; Mittens’s meowing did the trick, but Sabrina was not the least bit annoyed. Somehow, the last pieces of the protective wall she’d built around her heart were crumbling away.
Though vulnerable, it was also exhilarating. Her emotions, often confused of late, demonstrated clarity of purpose. Her self-confidence, battered most of her life, had been repairing itself the past few years, and since meeting Riordan repairs had accelerated and now she was fully healed. All was right with the world.
Mary was certainly shocked to find a kitten making itself at home, curled up on the small scatter rug before the fireplace in the parlor. “Mr. Black bought her for you? Oh, my,” Mary murmured. Oh, my indeed. She gathered the kitten into her arms and nuzzled its silky fur. Already she loved this sweet-tempered feline.
The marriage to Pepperdon had done its damage, but she refused to allow it to ruin what remained of her life. Nor would she cling to the belief that her heart was so battered she would never feel again. She had believed she was unworthy of love, considering no one had showed her any different. But that was a self-pitying path she no longer wished to travel—Riordan had showed her another way to journey. As did Mary.
Embracing life and what lay ahead would be her new focus. Damn Pepperdon, and her father. Damn every horrid memory those terrible men perpetrated.
“My lady?”
Mary’s voice brought her to the present. “Sorry, I was woolgathering.”
“Would you like another piece of raisin pie?”
Sabrina placed her teacup on the table. “No, thank you, but cut a slice and wrap it in brown paper. I’ll take it to Riordan. He still has thirty minutes of his luncheon break remaining. I will walk with you as far as the school.” She glanced at the sleeping Mittens. “Will she be all right alone for awhile?”
“I believe so, my lady. The kitten has settled in fine. Though my duties at the inn do not include the kitchen, I’ll see if I can collect a few scraps of meat and fish and bring them with me tonight.”
“Wonderful.”
Mary halted in clearing the table and gazed at Sabrina intently. “You seem different this morning, my lady.”
“Do I? In a good way, I hope.” Mary nodded and smiled. “I’ve had enough of allowing miserable excuses for men to rule my life.”
“Good for you, my lady. And Mr. Black?”
“Gaining my independence means I will make my own decisions. I trust Riordan. He has not lied to me, not once. I care for him; I will not deny it any longer.” Sabrina stood and gathered up the remaining luncheon dishes. “Will you show me how to make an apple pie tomorrow?”
“If you wish, my lady.”
“I do. And Mary, please call me Sabrina. I’m not married to an earl any longer, and I’m blessedly thankful for it. I want to dismiss Lady Pepperdon forever.”
Mary’s brows furrowed. “But as a widow you’re permitted to continue to use the title, even if you remarry, which you did, however temporarily.”
“I’m entitled, but I’ve decided to put the past behind me, and I will put the title there as well. Besides, we are friends, Mary. Well past time we acknowledged it.” She laid her hand on her maid’s shoulder. “Let us toss away the lady and servant roles we wear. If you wish, tell anyone who asks that you are my companion and friend, which is the complete truth.”
Mary remained silent, her face showing myriad emotions. “I would like us to think of each other as friends…Sabrina.”
Sabrina smiled. “Excellent. We move forward together, come what may. Now, we had better depart.”
Mary took the dishes from Sabrina’s hand. “I’ll wrap the pie and gather my cloak.”
“And I will fetch my own cloak. See? Independence,” Sabrina said. Mary laughed and hurried toward the kitchen.
Moments later, they headed toward the school. Mary waved goodbye as she continued toward town. Entering the school, Sabrina passed through the alcove into the main room. There sat Riordan at his desk, a pile of papers and slates before him. Her heart swelled at the sight of him, his thick, black-as-midnight hair falling across his forehead as he bent over his work. “Good afternoon, Riordan.”
He glanced up, and a broad, warm smile curved about his sensual lips. And they were sensual—the bottom lip a little plumper than the top. Ideal for kissing. “To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?” he asked.
She held up the wrapped bundle. “Pie. And I longed to see you.”
A look of genuine surprise flashed across his attractive features. He tossed aside his pen and stood. Sabrina was drawn closer to him, as if an invisible thread held them together. He took the pie and set it on his desk, then, without any warning, cupped her face and kissed her. Deeply. She opened and let him in and their tongues clashed. Sabrina grasped the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer.
For once, she held nothing back, kissing him in return with great relish. When a husky moan left the corner of his mouth, the glorious sound caused her to moan in return. This ignited the simmering passion between them. Riordan moved his hands down to her waist, cupped her buttocks, and brought her in against his erection.
She gasped in surprise, pausing to savor the feel of his hard body. Desire flared within as she continued with her thorough and complete exploration of every part of his hot mouth. He rotated his slim hips, and she could feel his hard shaft through the layers of clothes. Following his lead, she rubbed against him, causing another moan to slip from his throat. Her insides were on fire, her breasts heavy, and a distinct yearning throbbed in her feminine core.
Riordan broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. His breathing was as ragged and uneven as hers. “I am tempted to push everything off the desk, lay you upon it, and kiss and caress every part of your body.” He exhaled. “Forgive me.”
“No.”
He pulled away and caught her gaze. Arching an eyebrow, he said, “No?”
“I mean no, do not apologize. I want this. I want more. Tonight, we should talk. Can we?”
“Yes.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“I should go; your students will be returning shortly.”
Riordan chuckled. “Quite the condition you are leaving me in.”
Sabrina buttoned his frock coat. “There. No one will guess. If you come home for lunch tomorrow, perhaps you can steal another kiss.”
“With Mary there?” he laughed.
“I believe she will leave us alone. Riordan, this is all new to me. Can you bear with me?” She glanced up into those beautiful blue eyes—they glistened with deep emotion.
He stroked her cheek. “For you, I can wait an eternity.”
“Good answer, Mr. Black.” With a sigh of contentment, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him. She nibbled on his delicious full bottom lip before stepping away. “I’ll see you tonight. I hear roast chicken is on the menu for supper. Enjoy your pie.”
Sabrina turned, hurried out of the schoolroom, and, lifting her skirt, ran to the side of the building where she’d first discovered the passionate schoolmaster. She waited patiently. The window was open far enough to hear the happy voices of children as they filed into the room after their luncheon.
Riordan’s deep, melodious voice filled her hearing, causing shivers of awareness to cascade along her spine. “Children, let us pick up where we left off before the break: English folk music. Now, much of it originated during the medieval period. Anyone remember when it was? Yes, Becky?”
“Between the fifth and fifteenth centuries?”
“Yes, well done. We refer to it as The Middle Ages, as it is the middle period of three divisional eras of Western history. One popular melody that has stood the test of time is “Greensleeves.” Does anyone know of it?”
There were mixed answers, most saying no. A young lad called out, “Sing it for us, sir!”
Other voices joined in encouraging Riordan. “Very well,” he said. “I’m not sure I will do it justice.” He cleared his throat, then sang: “Alas my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously. And I have loved you oh so long, delighting in your company….”
Riordan’s voice was clear, pristine, and harmonious. His deep tone gave the tune vibrancy and, to her, a decided sensual cadence. Tears formed in her eyes. He could sing. In her mind, he was close to perfection. However, no one was perfect. If he harbored any dark secrets or serious flaws, she’d yet to discover them. There must be one, for that nagging sensation he was keeping secrets had never left her.
But any man who could stand before a room full of children and encourage them to learn and envision the world around them and inspire and shape their minds…she could not imagine a nobler calling, nor a more honorable man. How she admired and respected Riordan. And here, outside his classroom window, listening to his voice as it rose in song, she fell irrevocably in love with him.
* * * *
It was not ideal to teach a class of students when aroused. Thankfully, Riordan had managed to dismiss his desire before his students returned. The teasing minx, showing up in his schoolroom with pie and devastating kisses. What had come over her? Whatever it was, he liked it. And when he sang “Greensleeves,” the lyrics held a deeper meaning to him personally.
Riordan did not waste any time packing up his papers and hurrying home after ringing the dismissal bell. No lingering about the schoolroom to correct tests tonight—he wanted to know what Sabrina wished to talk about. Once he entered the cottage and ensured Mrs. Ingersoll was not lurking about the kitchen, he pulled Sabrina into his arms and kissed her fiercely, not only because he yearned for it, but to see if she would kiss him in return as passionately as she had earlier.
Riordan was not disappointed. They broke apart after several searing moments. “We should eat,” Sabrina said breathlessly.
Food? Who could think of food? “Yes. Roast chicken, you said?”
“Mrs. Ingersoll departed not ten minutes before you arrived. Allow me to serve you before the food cools off any further.” Sabrina scurried to the kitchen area.
Hell. He was hard again. Taking his seat, he winced and adjusted himself. Being in a perpetual state of arousal was damned uncomfortable, and embarrassing. So much for his self-control in most situations. It had certainly abandoned him here.
Sabrina reentered the parlor and set a hearty meal before him. Mittens meowed loudly, no doubt smelling the food. Riordan reached down and scratched the kitten on the head. “How is Mittens fitting into your routine?”
“We’re managing well. You were correct.”
“About?”
“Nothing like having a pet curled up beside you as you read. It is how we passed part of the afternoon.”
“Were you reading Wuthering Heights?” he asked.
“No. It’s a book Mary gave me, The Bold Seduction of Miss Featherstone. Perhaps we can read from it when we’ve finished our meal.”
Bold seduction? Sabrina was full of surprises.
“Excuse me, Mittens is insisting I serve her next.” Sabrina disappeared, and when she returned she carried her own plate, then lowered a smaller one to the floor, which the kitten immediately ran for.
Sabrina chuckled at the feline’s enthusiasm. Taking her seat, Riordan took in her flushed, happy face. He’d never seen her like this. Relaxed. Content. “I cut up a little chicken, mixed with potatoes I mashed with a fork, a little squash, and water. Look how she is devouring it.”
Riordan took a bite of his own food. “I agree with Mittens. Delicious.”
During most of the meal, they exchanged small talk. He told her of his afternoon as a little smile curled about her lips.
Pushing his empty plate away, he said, “You wished to talk? May I ask about what? Or would you rather we read first?”
Sabrina dabbed her mouth with a napkin and laid it on top of her plate. “Talk first. Last night, I mentioned that I used to find a man in an aroused state abhorrent. I’m ready to tell you why, because I want you to understand about my past, and perhaps then you will be willing to discuss yours.” He winced inwardly at the direct hit.
“The marriage to Pepperdon was arranged. I was eighteen, innocent beyond measure, with no mother or female relative to give me any instruction on what to expect on the wedding night.” Sabrina sighed. “Who could I turn to? Not my father, though he barked I must submit to my husband in all things. I was not given a season, and as a result, my experience with men was nonexistent. The marriage took place within ten days of my first meeting Pepperdon.”
“Good God,” Riordan said. He didn’t like the direction of this, for he had an inkling of what would come next.
“Imagine my disappointment at finding a gray-haired man of fifty-five years waiting to greet me. The earl had a pleasing enough face, along with a slight paunch and hair thinning on the top. My father wished me to marry this peer; how could I say no? If he was kind, we might tumble along well enough. Or so I thought.” Sabrina snorted, her expression darkened. “Charles Lakeside, Earl of Pepperdon, was the furthest thing from kind. After an elaborate church wedding and a brief breakfast reception, he dismissed the guests, dragged me to his bedroom, ripped my wedding gown from my trembling body and brutally raped me.”
Riordan banged the table with his fist, the fury building in him dangerous and potent. Blast her father and Pepperdon to hell!
“He left me crying hysterically and all alone. No one came to my aid. Mary was not yet my maid, not until a couple of days after. Pepperdon returned twice more. I’ll not go into details, as you can well imagine them. The first few months were horrible. He wanted an heir, and spent his free time, when he was able to perform, trying to accomplish it.”
“Jesus. Sabrina…”
She held up her hand. “No pity, please.”
“It’s not pity, but empathy. There is a difference.” His blood boiled. “The damned arrogance of men. The mistreatment women endure, with no legal rights to see its end, is a blight on society.” He banged his fist again, and his water glass tipped over. Sabrina flinched at the sudden movement. “I didn’t mean to startle you; I am furious you were treated in such a vile manner.”
“It took me several months to realize that my fighting and screaming as he pounded into me merely stoked his lust. Eventually I lay still and did not utter a peep. After the first year, it became obvious I would not become pregnant easily, and his trips to my bed gradually lessened. But not his frustration.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pepperdon decided humiliating me would be ample punishment for not allowing his ancient seed to take root. He subjected me to acts….” Sabrina crammed her fist in her mouth.
His heart ached for her. He started to reply, but Sabrina said, “Let me finish, while I have the courage. By the end of our fifth year of marriage, he stopped coming to me. My indifference with the sex act finally caused him to lose all interest in me, thank God. I was left in peace at last. Weeks would go by without seeing him, which was fine with me. But the damage was done.”
Sabrina clasped her hands in her lap and met his gaze. “The remaining six years of my marriage allowed me to…heal. Physically and emotionally. Mary assisted me. I crawled out of the abyss, rebuilt my confidence, but built a wall about my heart, for I vowed no man would ever hurt me again. In any way. For if any man does hurt me, it will be an unforgiveable act.”
A definite warning. Here was the opportunity to confess about the settlement. There was still a chance she would choose to leave and live her life free and clear of him—and because of that, the lie remained, in order for her to have money for the future. This was all for her future, her protection—yet an uneasy feeling settled deep inside him.
As far as her marriage, it explained why she had shrunk from his touch when they first met. If her foul excuse for a husband wasn’t already dead, he would have seen it done.
“For six years I held a death watch. Imagine my surprise when Pepperdon actually did die. I don’t know from what; I was never told. Regardless, I was relieved and happy—until the reading of the will. One last humiliation, to leave me with nothing. His toad of a nephew, his heir, could not show me the door quickly enough. I had no choice but to return to my father. You know the rest.”
“Sabrina, saying that I’m deeply sorry you were subjected to the worst instincts of man is hardly adequate. Most men do not act in such a vile way. Well, at least those in my acquaintance.” But he knew there were men like her father and late husband; he’d heard stories from his father and grandfather of their many dealings with such entitled, arrogant men in London.
“Thank you for saying sorry; it helps.” Sabrina exhaled. “I’d like to put this behind me, starting tonight. Shall we read?”
“Of course, if you wish.”
She hurried from the room, leaving him stunned. And humbled. She trusted him enough to reveal her past. Guilt also took hold, for he was not being honest with her about a number of subjects. Distracted, he placed the wooden chairs close to the fire.
Sabrina returned and handed him the book. “I have a piece of paper marking the page.” Taking her seat, she gazed at him expectantly.
Considering Miss Featherstone was plain of features, she fairly sparkled when she smiled. Her large, expressive eyes reflected her changing emotions. Never had Sebastian been drawn to a woman like this before. Perhaps it was her inner beauty, which attracted him most of all—though she did possess glorious curves and full breasts. Enough with stolen kisses; he wanted more. As he pulled her toward the darkened balcony, the sounds of the ball they’d just deserted faded to the background.
Riordan glanced at Sabrina. She hung on his every word. Should he continue? Why not?
“My dearest, I must touch you.” Riordan read, as he deepened his voice to a husky whisper, acting the part of the hero. Sebastian tunneled his hands under the layers of silk, groaning when the tips of his fingers brushed by the slit in her drawers. “You are passionate, ready for my touch.” Pushing two fingers deep inside her, Miss Featherstone gasped at the invasion, then sighed contentedly. Faster he thrust, his thumb stroking her arousal. “Come apart in my arms. Come for me, my dearest.” God, he was hard, his shaft throbbing with want. He wanted inside her, but surprisingly, he found he wanted her heart more.
Hell. He was aroused as well. He caught Sabrina’s gaze. Her breathing was shallow, clear proof of her own arousal. If he read any more, he’d explode.
“Reading this book has taught me much. The touch of a man does not have to be abhorrent,” she stated breathlessly.
“No. It does not.”
“I believed I would never enjoy the touch of a man. But I enjoy yours. And your kisses. There is something between us.”
Once more, those sparks ignited and burned with an intense heat. “Yes. There is. With patience and care, it could be quite wonderful,” he replied, his voice hoarse.
“Will you be patient with me? Understand if I shrink away that it is not because of you, but because horrible memories are intruding on the present?” Her hazel eyes held him in thrall, almost pleading. He could not refuse her anything. “You see, I wish for what I revealed to you to become a firm part of my past. I don’t want my late husband or father to have control over my life.”
Riordan’s heart beat fiercely against his chest. “Yes to both questions. Together we will banish those lingering memories. I yearn to show you what bliss can be found in lovemaking. I can teach you…how to love.”