Chapter 10
Once Riordan announced that he carried a note from the Marquess of Sutherhorne, who had ordered it be delivered personally into the baron’s hands, he was quickly bustled into the library. While waiting for the baron to arrive, he glanced about the room. Not well-stocked as libraries go, and the draperies were worn and frayed along the edges. The baron must be in financial straits. What other motive could he have to sell his daughter? It would take every ounce of his restraint not to pummel the oaf as soon as he made an appearance.
The door banged against the wall and Baron Durning strode in, his look arrogant and imperious. Early fifties, Riordan guessed, and in fine fettle. Close to six feet in height and broad of shoulder—could he take him in a fight? He was taller and younger than the baron, it could be accomplished.
But this wouldn’t come to an altercation. They were hardly drunk laborers arguing in a pub. They were gentlemen. However, that did not stop Riordan from using his brawny uncle to threaten the marquess. Desperate times call for…well, perhaps he could have handled this entire situation in a more civilized manner. But he was on this path, might as well see it through. His anger certainly fueled his actions. “I’m to wait for a reply, my lord.”
Durning snatched the note, tore it open, and scanned it, his face turning purple the more he read. “What is the meaning of this?”
“The marquess has departed the vicinity and returned to his home. There will be no wedding. However, I offer myself in his stead. I am Riordan Black, schoolmaster.”
“School…schoolmaster? Is this a joke?” Durning thundered.
Riordan took a step closer. “I am removing your daughter and her maid from these premises at once. You will not be able to sell her any longer, nor use her for your nefarious and selfish means.”
The baron’s eyes narrowed. “I can do with her as I please. However, you want the bitch? Take her. She comes without a farthing.”
“I am aware. The Marquess of Sutherhorne was most forthcoming with the information regarding your transaction, including your previous secret auction,” Riordan snapped. “I aim to offer my protection to Sabrina and because of it, you will never tell her there is no settlement or that you tried to sell her. In fact, you’re to have no further contact with her. Do I make myself clear?”
“Or you will do what, exactly? One word from me and you will be dismissed from your post and run out of this county.” A malicious smile spread across the baron’s face.
“No, you will not. I’m guessing you want to be rid of your daughter more than you wish to take revenge on a lowly schoolmaster. Besides, I have powerful allies: a viscount and an earl. Do not force my hand.”
“You. Lie.” The baron spat the words, and a spray of spittle hit Riordan’s cheek, stoking his fury to untested levels.
“Care to call my bluff? I will also ensure the authorities are made aware of the underhanded and illicit scheme to sell your daughter. There have been prosecutions in court for what you are doing. I’m guessing your finances are in a precarious position. May I suggest you find another way to procure income?” Riordan whispered dangerously. “Sell yourself in marriage instead.”
The baron snorted, his look turning from anger to pure abhorrence. “You have cost me more than money, and it’s not something I will soon forget.”
Riordan stepped away. “I seem to be collecting enemies today. Let me return the threat in kind: if you dare reveal any of this to your daughter, dare to speak of her or to her again, I will see you ruined. Arrested. Humiliated before Society.” Riordan leaned in close and whispered menacingly, “I will see you suffer in every way imaginable.”
“You arrogant puppy,” Durning cried.
Riordan collected himself. This heated situation was getting out of hand. But he was utterly furious at the way Sabrina had been treated. It made his hasty decision to assist her more urgent and equitable. But even more surprising was the desire to do anything to protect her. “Send for your daughter.”
* * * *
“Quickly, Mary. We must make a hasty escape.” Sabrina tore about her room like a whirling dervish, tossing various garments into her trunk.
Mary gently laid her hand on Sabrina’s arm. “My lady, remember Mr. Black instructed us to only bring what we cannot do without. We must travel light. Do you truly care for these clothes?”
Sabrina glanced at the pile of silk and velvet. No, she didn’t. All it did was remind her of her life with Pepperdon. Though her life with him was abhorrent, she had wanted for nothing. “I thought we could eventually sell them, but no, I don’t care for them. I will leave the trunk. Only what we are able to carry.” She marched to her dressing table and snatched up the sterling silver comb and brush set. “And what we are able to sell. The sun is setting; we will leave as soon as it grows dark.”
“Shouldn’t we wait until Mr. Black arrives?”
Sabrina shook her head sadly. “I doubt Mr. Black will be able to assist us. What was I thinking? A schoolmaster against a baron and a marquess?” She stuffed the vanity set in her large carpet bag. “The plan is doomed.”
“Well, I spent a couple of hours in his classroom today, and he had a commanding presence with complete control of his students. I don’t think he is a man who will be easily pushed around, not even by peers.” Mary smiled. “He had me mesmerized. I thought my education was solid and thorough, but even I learned a few things about the continents. I wonder what else he could teach a woman?”
“Mary!” Sabrina froze.
“Well, not me. I’m old enough to be his mother. But you, my lady? You’re attracted to him, you’re blushing even now. You will be alone with him in a small cottage and—”
Sabrina held up her hand. “No. I cannot. I have no heart left. I have nothing to give any man.”
Mary moved to her side. “How will you know unless you allow it? Be open to new experiences and emotions, my lady. I promise you will not regret it.” Mary shook her head. “I’m not suggesting that you seduce Mr. Black, good heavens. But as I said earlier, be open to friendship. And if it should lead to more…” She sighed, her expression wistful. “My lady, you have no idea how wonderful an intimate relationship with a man can be. It can enrich your life. I’m not merely speaking of physical intimacy, though that can be extraordinary. I mean friendship, sharing secrets, trusting that person with your life. Sharing a quiet evening when you are both in the room, each lost in their own pursuits but content in the companionable silence.”
“My heavens, Mary. How do you know of such things? Do not tell me it is from your romantic books.”
Her maid did something Sabrina had never seen before: she blushed. “No, not only from the books.”
A knock at the door made them both start. “Oh, no. We should have left an hour since,” Sabrina whispered.
“Who is it?” Mary called out.
“It’s George, my lady. Your presence is requested in the library.”
Mary marched to the door and flung it open. “Who is in the library with the baron?” she demanded.
The young footman jutted his chin in the air and did not answer.
“Oh, stop being contrary, George. It doesn’t suit you,” Mary snapped. “Who is it?”
“I recognize him, it’s the schoolmaster,” he muttered.
Sabrina let out the breath she’d held. Not the marquess. Thank God. Smoothing her skirt, she walked toward the door. “Continue packing, Mary.” She followed George downstairs, her legs shaking the entire way. Crossing the threshold of the library, the tension hanging in the air was palatable. Her father faced the window, his fists at his sides. By his stance, she could tell he was angry. Sabrina slid her gaze to Riordan. He also looked furious.
“We are leaving immediately. Mary as well. The bags should be brought down, I have a wagon outside,” Riordan said, his voice tight.
George looked toward the baron, who kept his back to everyone. “My lord?”
“Do it,” the baron barked.
George scurried away, looking relieved to be departing.
“Then we shall take our leave,” Riordan said in a clipped tone.
“Good luck with her,” the baron stated coldly. “The late earl said she is a contrary, frigid hag who couldn’t even manage to give him an heir. She is spoiled, taciturn, and thoroughly unpleasant. I’m glad to be rid of her.”
Sabrina gasped and covered her mouth in shock at her father’s hateful words.
Riordan’s expression turned dangerous, and with three large strides he spun her father around until he stood toe-to-toe with the baron. “You are not to speak of your daughter in such a way ever again.” Riordan grabbed a fistful of the baron’s cravat. “Remember what I said. I will follow through, have no doubt.”
The quick burst of violence from Riordan made her blood run cold with fear. Good heavens, he was no better than every other man in her life.
As if sensing her distress, Riordan released the baron and moved to her side, gently clasping her elbow. “Come, Sabrina. We are departing.” He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t look back. Do not ever look back.”
Biting her lip, she nodded. Strangely, tears clustered on her eyelashes. This part of her life was over. Her father would not even look at her or say goodbye. Fine, neither would she. With shoulders straight, she left the room, allowing Riordan to steer her toward the front door.
The sky had cleared and the sun all but set. Pink clouds hovered across the horizon, showing proof tomorrow would be a glorious, sunny one. A new beginning. Though many questions formed in her mind, she knew if she put voice to them, she would begin to weep. Liberation. Freedom. She was on the path to achieve it, and it made her heart soar.
He helped her up onto the bench seat, and she stiffened at his touch. “I will be escorting you and Mary to the inn, where you will stay until we can depart for London. The marquess has left town.”
Riordan did it. Everything he’d promised. How could she ever repay him? Perhaps she should raise his share of the settlement to twenty-five percent. He deserved it. But now was not the time to broach the subject. His expression was thunderous, and peppering him with questions could annoy him further or lead him to believe she did not trust him. How surprising to find she did. Yet fear lingered.
Shortly after Mary and George emerged, Riordan helped load the few pieces of luggage and assisted Mary into the rear of the wagon. With a quick, fluid movement, Riordan sat next to Sabrina on the bench. He snapped the reins and they were off. “I am sorry you witnessed my temper. You must never think I would turn it on you. I will never harm you. Believe it.”
Oh, she wanted to believe him. “It is not easy for me to trust any man, but I will endeavor to do so with you,” she said.
He gave her a quick glance and nodded. “Before I came here, I met with one of the board members and they granted me Friday afternoon. We will leave for London then,” Riordan said.
“You must keep an account of the costs you’ve been incurring, postage, the inn, the loss of salary. I will reimburse you immediately, from the settlement.”
Riordan did not reply. His expression was stony and hard to read.
“There is a settlement?” she asked worriedly.
He patted his pocket. “I have it all in hand.”
He’d said that earlier. Did he have the signed contract in his pocket? Was that the reason he patted his coat? “Thank you, Riordan.” Her voice quivered with emotion.
He clasped her gloved hand and kissed it. “It was my distinct honor.”
Her insides fluttered. Be open to new emotions, Mary had said. Dare she allow it? No. She could not open her heart to this attractive, principled man. It was far safer to feel nothing at all. No chance of getting hurt. As she pulled her hand from his she took a deep breath. Exhaling, she marveled at the fact of how easy it was to breathe. She gazed at the road ahead. Her future lay open for this first time in her life. Sabrina couldn’t wait.
* * * *
Riordan made it to his cottage close to eight o’clock. Garrett immediately jumped from his chair and crossed his arms. “Right. You had better tell me all, Nephew.”
Riordan removed his hat and wool muffler and hung them on the hook by the door. “May I eat first?”
Garrett pointed to the table. “Sit. I’ll serve you, I’ve already eaten.”
With a weary sigh, Riordan sank into the wooden chair. God. He had pulled it off. Reaching in his side coat pocket, he pulled out the form he’d made the baron sign before Sabrina came downstairs. It was an utterly useless endeavor and could not be enforced, for there was no payment at all. But if Sabrina asked for proof, he could show her the fake paper. Lying made his insides roll with nausea. But she had been through enough, why add to her misery?
After settling Sabrina and Mary at the inn, he decided on his way home he would instruct William to use ten thousand pounds of his inheritance and pass it off as the dowry settlement. In reality, he should come clean, tell her the truth, and give her the money outright with no marriage needed, temporary or not. But he knew enough about her to surmise she would not accept the money as a gift, or even a loan. She was as stubborn as he.
He wanted to protect her and give her the chance to start a new life. Most of all, he wanted to erase the look of fear that haunted her beautiful eyes—his rare flash of temper had not helped matters. Cursing inwardly, he admonished himself for allowing the baron to bait him.
Deep down he knew that he cared about her, about what would happen to her. The transitory marriage would give him time to convince her to accept the money. Or perhaps he wanted to know her better, see if the sparks of attraction crackling between them could lead to something more…permanent. Yes, he was seriously considering this option.
It would be challenging. Sabrina Durning Lakeside had tucked her heart away years ago in order to protect it. He may not be able to find her heart and breathe new life into it. Every touch of her skin inflamed his passion to greater heights. How deluded he had been to think progressive causes alone would stir him. Never did he realize an emotionally closed off widow would make him feel more alive than…anything.
Garrett set the bowl of stew in front of him, along with a small plate of bread, then sat opposite. “Well? Do I have to drag it out of you, Nephew?”
Slipping the folded paper into his coat pocket, he gave his uncle a sly smile. “I agreed to assist Sabrina in extricating herself from an unwanted marriage to an abhorrent marquess, and at the same time rescue her from the clutches of her greedy, detestable father.” He shrugged as he sprinkled pepper on the beef stew. “Mission accomplished.”
Garrett reclined in his chair, regarding him. “There is no money. The marquess was to pay the baron for his daughter. Completely repugnant and illegal, I agree. But what is the widow to use for money? How will she live? I assume she is penniless. How do you factor into this, besides being her knight?”
Riordan didn’t want to lie, as he would be doing enough of it in the next three months. “I am going to marry her.” He shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth.
Garrett jumped to his feet. “Have you gone mad?” he cried. His uncle started to pace.
“Temporary only. We will seek an annulment in three months. She will receive the money when the marriage is dissolved.”
Garrett stopped pacing. “What money?”
“The money I’m going to give her.” He explained the situation as his uncle slowly slumped into his chair, his expression incredulous. By the time Riordan finished the stew, he’d concluded his narrative.
To his surprise, Garrett laughed, but soon sobered. “You’re deluding yourself if you believe you can stay detached from a young, nubile widow in this tiny cottage. I assume she’s attractive?” Riordan nodded. “Have you heard nothing I have told you the past several years? Women are poison. They infect your heart and soul, then leave you all alone. The curse is real.”
Riordan scoffed. “Jesus, Garrett. Not the curse again. I cannot believe you take that fairy tale seriously.” Though he had to admit: he half believed in it himself.
His uncle’s expression turned dark. “Have you been to the graveyard? My mother, Julian’s mother, my half sister, and all the women who came before. The old earl, my grandfather and your great-grandfather, buried two wives. And his father before him buried three. Shall I continue? I can recite all the way to the beginning of the seventeenth century if you require proof. It is real.” Garrett exhaled and ran his hands through his long hair. “Never mind the legal ramifications of what you’re doing. It smacks of fraud, and it’s not worthy of you no matter how earnest your intentions. You must have feelings for her already or you would not be barging ahead.” Riordan looked away. “Damn it, Nephew, I thought you smarter than this.”
Reluctantly, Riordan met his uncle’s worried gaze. His annoyance grew; the last thing he wanted was to argue with Garrett. “This has nothing to do with love. Not that you know anything about it.”
Garrett crossed his arms. “And what makes you think I know nothing about it?” he replied, his voice soft. “I know more than I ever wished to. You may think you’re in charge of the situation, but it will spin out of control, mark my words.”
This was a surprising development, for what did his uncle mean about love and knowing about it? When had he ever been involved with a woman? One of the summers he’d visited his Scottish relatives?
Garrett shook his head. “I can hear the gears turning in your head. Do not even ask. This is about you, not me. What about your father and grandfather?”
“I will reveal all when I come for the meeting.”
Garrett scoffed. “By then it will be too late, the deed done. I should tell them of your insane plan. Have them talk sense into you.”
“Uncle, give me credit for having a functioning brain. I’m not a stupid schoolboy, but a grown man out earning my keep. I’ve discussed this in-depth with William Chambers, my friend and solicitor, and this is all aboveboard. I had no idea the baron was selling his daughter, or had in the past. I was led to believe he would pay a generous settlement to be rid of her.”
Garrett banged his fist on the table. “Exactly what makes you think this widow is not playing you for a fool? Eliciting your sympathies, trifling with your compassion for humankind? Your desire for progressive causes? All to gain money from you?”
Riordan bristled. “All she knows is that I am a penniless schoolmaster. She has no clue of my family connections. My God, you are cynical.”
“Bah.” Garrett shook his head. “There is no arguing with you.”
“Please, allow me to break the news to father and grandfather. Will you?”
“It’s against my better judgment, but fine. You’d better attend the meeting in two weeks time or I will tell them what’s going on.” Garrett raised an eyebrow. “For argument sake, let’s say the widow is innocent. How do you think she will react when she finds out the money did not come from her father, but from you? And the fact you lied to her…. Think on it, Nephew.” He spoke the last couple of sentences with slow, emphatic deliberation.
A throbbing ache formed in Riordan’s left temple. He didn’t want to think about it. At least, not tonight. All he was concerned with was getting her away from her father and the marquess. To protect her, see her safe, and ensure she would not be used and abused anymore. To keep Sabrina from harm he would prevaricate, cheat, even kill. The depth of his turbulent emotions had him worried about how he was going to survive the next three months.