Chapter 14
It had been a long day, with the ceremony, the shopping, and the return trip by mail coach. Luckily, Riordan had arranged for Farmer Walsh, his student Charlie’s father and the farmer who’d boarded his gelding, Grayson, to meet them at the coach stop and escort them home. During the journey the decision was made to escort Mary to the inn first, which meant Sabrina would see to her own preparations for the evening.
Once they arrived at the cottage and the luggage and shopping purchases were unloaded from the wagon, Riordan thanked Farmer Walsh profusely, then informed the man he’d just been married. Seeing that Walsh had raised his heavy brows at the prospect of Sabrina staying at his cottage, he’d had no choice but to explain. Though he’d asked for the farmer’s discretion, he had no doubt it would be all over the district before tomorrow afternoon.
Riordan watched the wagon disappear into the darkness, then turned and entered the cottage. Sabrina was nowhere to be found. Seeing the place was small and cramped, there weren’t many places she could hide. He poked his head in the bedroom and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands tightly clasped and resting in her lap.
“Tired?” he asked, giving her a smile.
“Yes…and no. I am rather wound up.”
He understood completely. “I’m about to make tea. Would you care for a cup? I see Mrs. Ingersoll delivered beefsteak sandwiches earlier today. Come and join me, Sabrina.”
“I thought to take a tray here, in this…room.”
And, in point of fact, hide. Riordan wasn’t going to have it. “First, I don’t own a tray. Second, Mary is not here to bring it in to you even if I did. I will not act the footman. Wouldn’t know how to go about it, at any rate.” He chuckled. “But I can make tea, and will do so…if you come and sit at the table with me.”
A sigh escaped her as she laid her hand flat on the quilt. “The bed is quite comfortable.” He would miss his feather mattress, only had it three weeks. “Perhaps I should sleep in the parlor.”
“Nonsense. What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed you to sleep on the chaise longue? This bedroom is yours…while you’re here. Make yourself at home.”
She gave him a brief but tremulous smile. “You are kind.”
Opening the door wider, he held out his hand. “Let us have a bite to eat. Together.”
Nodding, she stood and walked toward him, even slipped her hand in his. He was pleased that she’d done it without hesitating; he reveled in the warmth of her touch. He escorted her to the small wooden table and pulled out a chair for her to sit. Then he moved to the kitchen and busily prepared a light meal. After bringing the teacups and saucers to the table, along with the bowl of sugar, he laid the sandwiches on a small platter with pieces of cheese and pickle. Lastly, he brought out the teapot and a pitcher of milk. “Will you pour?” he asked.
Sabrina nodded, giving him one of her brief smiles. He sat opposite. “How wonderful that you can make tea.”
“It has been an exercise in failure and triumph. I’ve also learned to fry eggs and ham. Not much else, I’m afraid. It is why Mrs. Ingersoll has been employed by the board—to ensure I do not starve. Now she will cook for two. Mostly meat pies and stews, I hope you don’t mind.”
She nibbled on a wedge of sandwich. “Not at all. I know nothing of the kitchen.”
“I do not expect you to learn,” he teased. “I will show you how to use the pump so you can at least fetch water should you need it. Also, there is an outdoor privy, and a chamber pot under the bed. As far as bathing, there is a large copper tub. It’s stored outside in the lean-to. Simply tell me what day you wish to use it, and I will bring it inside before I depart for school.”
Sabrina sipped her tea. “Good heavens, such a personal conversation.”
Riordan laid two wedges, cheese, and pickle on his small plate. “Best to get it out of the way, as it is all part and parcel of sharing a living area.”
She peered at him over the rim of her cup. “And when will you be taking a bath?”
The air between them snapped with sensual energy. “Well, I would imagine it would be in the evenings. You will have to stay in your room. Unless…” He gave her as sultry a smile as he could muster. “You wish to assist me, scrub my back and the like.”
He waited for the look of horror. A rebuke for his bold forwardness. Sabrina placed her cup on the saucer. “I’m sure Mary would be thrilled to help you scrub all your bits, including your back.”
Riordan laughed. “Well done, my lady. Very amusing.” He placed a piece of cheese in his mouth and swallowed. “You recognized the teasing and replied in kind. A good sign.”
She nodded. “It is a good sign.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. I must ask; do you attend church services?” Riordan asked.
“Not as a rule. The earl did, at Christmas and Easter, and I accompanied him.”
“Ah. I’m not a steady churchgoer myself; however, I did make a compact with the vicar when I accepted the position of schoolmaster.”
“Oh? What kind?” She looked at him with genuine interest. How wonderful to have someone to converse with in his lonely cottage. It lessened the homesickness. Someone to tease. A lovely woman to gaze at and admire. And desire.
“The school’s curriculum caused a good deal of discussion in many quarters. As you can imagine, the vicar pushed for one based in religious studies. I proposed we extend Sunday school instead. The vicar—who, I found, is a shrewd negotiator—agreed, so long as I attend services twice a month, to show a good example for my students. Another of his demands was that school on Sunday must be three and one half hours in duration.”
Sabrina snickered. “How shrewd.”
“I must attend tomorrow, and I believe it best you accompany me.”
Her slight smile disappeared. “I think not. It’s best I stay cloistered away until we are able to obtain the annulment.”
Unbelievable. “Sabrina, I already told Farmer Walsh you’re my bride.”
Her eyes widened. “Why would you do such a thing?” Annoyance hovered at the surface of her voice.
“The farmer witnessed you carrying your luggage into my cabin. Imagine the scandal. Besides, this is a small town; you will be seen. You cannot hide in this place for three months, it is not feasible.”
Her full, lower lip thrust out in an attractive pout. “Well, I had hoped to attempt it, at least.”
Riordan took a sip of tea. “Best to appear together and show a brave front. Granted, the town will be abuzz, but they will settle down soon enough. We will be forgotten, and then we will quietly obtain the annulment.” Taking a bite of the sandwich, he chewed and swallowed. “I have to visit Grayson tomorrow. He needs a long run.”
“Who is Grayson?”
“My gelding. There is no proper place to keep him here at my cottage, so he boards with Farmer Walsh. When I can spare a moment, I take him out. Exercise for the both of us. Usually on Saturday and Sunday.”
“Do you have many horses at your family home?” Sabrina asked.
It annoyed him to have to hesitate and try to figure out how to answer her questions without blatantly lying or exposing his identity. “A few. Growing up there was always a dog and cat underfoot as well. Did you have any pets?” Best to steer the conversation toward her.
A look of sadness covered her pretty features. “I was never allowed to have a pet of any kind. My father was adamant. The earl would not allow it either.” She paused. “Once I asked for a kitten. One of my friends offered one, as her cat had given birth. My father replied that if I brought the mangy feline home, he would wring its neck and toss it outside for the wild animals to feast on.” She looked away. “I was ten years old.”
Anger tore through Riordan. “Have I told you how much I despise your miserable father?”
“He does not inspire warmth, to be sure,” she answered, her voice quiet.
Damn the man. Riordan now wished he had planted a facer directly on the baron. His grandfather often used the phrase, and it fit here. The baron deserved to be punched—and more. Sabrina’s childhood must have been as cold and lonely as her marriage—which made him all the more determined to draw her out of her protective shell. “Do you ride?”
“I have, but not since I returned to my father’s. He only has the two horses for his carriage and he refused to allow me to ride them.”
Yes, the man deserved a pummeling. Riordan reached across the table and took Sabrina’s hand. Again a jolt of sizzling heat tore through him. “Attend church with me, and after we’ll head to the farm. Farmer Walsh has a fine mare. We can go riding. Say you will.” He could see her hesitation, and gently squeezed her hand. “No hiding, Sabrina. Never again. Time to live your life. Starting now.”
Another brief, tremulous smile curved about her sensual lips. “You’re right. I will attend church with you, and go riding.”
“That’s my darling girl.” He smiled broadly as he slowly and incrementally released her hand, trailing his fingers along hers as he’d done before. She seemed to like it, and the blush staining her cheeks proved he was correct. The color was a welcome change from the stark paleness she’d exhibited most of the day. Pleased at her reaction, he snatched another piece of sandwich. “What do you plan to do in the afternoons when you’re alone?”
Giving a slight movement of her shoulder, she reached for a piece of cheese. “I imagine I’ll do the same thing I have done for the past several years: read. Thank you for assisting me in my selection at the bookshop. I’m looking forward to Wuthering Heights.”
“Why don’t we read it together, in the evenings? We can take turns reading passages.”
She nodded, giving him another of her brief smiles. “I would enjoy that.”
“The books you donated, were they yours?”
“I must confess, they were from my father’s library. He’ll never miss them.”
Riordan laughed. “Again, well done. Do you partake in any other ladylike pursuits?”
It dawned on him that he wanted to know all about her, but was he rehashing the unpleasantness of her past? The last thing he wanted was to churn up terrible memories.
“When my mother died, I was shipped off to the Blackwell School for Young Ladies. My education before that was sporadic at best; father’s choices for governesses left a lot to be desired. I learned more from reading than I ever did from those dour women.” Sabrina placed another wedge of beefsteak sandwich on her plate. “At the boarding school? They sprinkled a little academia throughout the endless, boring classes of needlework, French, and the pianoforte. I’m afraid I do not excel at any of it.”
“I admire you for wishing to expand your mind. It is a fallacy girls cannot be educated the same as boys. Yet those in power believe females should only learn enough to prepare for their roles as wives and mothers. I do not hold with the view. My curriculum is for all children, regardless of gender.”
“Your students are indeed fortunate that you’re forward-thinking. I admire it. I admire…you.”
Riordan sipped his tea; the compliment pleased him.
After a few moments, Sabrina stood. “I believe I will retire. All of a sudden, I’m fatigued.”
Riordan rose from his chair. “Allow me to escort you to your room.”
“It is barely a few steps away.”
“Nevertheless.” He took her arm and escorted her to the door. Turning her to face him, he cradled her face, gently stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Good night. Sleep well.” He kissed her forehead, then laid gentle kisses on each of her cheeks. Her eyelids lowered, and he placed kisses on them as well. The temptation proved hard to ignore. Taking a chance, he leaned in and tenderly kissed her on the lips. Brief, but scorching.
Stepping away from her, and about to turn and head to the parlor, Sabrina moved toward him, encircling her arms about his waist. Her ample breasts smashed against his chest, causing blood to rush to his shaft, hardening it. It was the same fierce embrace she’d given him the afternoon they shared a picnic lunch in his schoolroom. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “that I said you were trapping me like the earl and my father. Nothing could be further from the truth.”
Sabrina laid her head against his chest and hugged him tighter. Her enticing citrus scent filled his senses as she softened all around him. God, she felt glorious. A perfect fit. He was completely aroused. “You’re not like those poor excuses for men. No comparison at all. You’re the best man I have ever known.” He stroked her hair as her generous words made his heart swell.
As quickly as she hugged him, she let go and hurried into the room, closing the door behind her. Already he was bereft by her absence. Her scent lingered in the air, and the only sound was the ticking of the mantel clock. Or perhaps it was his heart, beating at a fast pace.
Damn. His entire body throbbed with need. He rested his forehead against the door and took a shuddering breath. How in hell would he be able to stay emotionally detached? The truth was he couldn’t, and he would not even try. This was moving beyond a surface attraction into a deeper bond. The challenge lay in making Sabrina admit that there was far more going on between them than friendship.
A challenge he gladly accepted.
* * * *
Sabrina had been awake since shortly after dawn. She lay in bed, not knowing what to do. Should she rise, or wait for Mary to arrive? The small cottage was silent, indicating Riordan must still be asleep, and she did not want to disturb him. Thankfully, she’d slept through the night, the stress of the day tiring her far more than she’d thought. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she glanced at the sun pouring in through the sheer draperies. It would be a fine autumn day for a ride.
I am married. Despite her second thoughts and last-minute apprehensions, Sabrina had come to the conclusion that she’d made the right choice. Besides condemning her and Mary to a life of poverty, there was no other option. Many revelations filled the day. The first, Riordan insisting that she keep the entire amount of the settlement. That she had not expected. The gesture, generous at its core, spoke of the honorable man she’d come to know—and wanted to know better.
But one of the biggest surprises? His suggestion that they make the marriage work. It had shocked her. Complete fright overtook her, hence the reason she lashed out and compared him to Pepperdon and her father. The earl, during the first months of their marriage, had tried to make an effort. But when it was clear that she abhorred his attentions, he turned cruel. Rough. The vindictiveness spilled over into their daily lives. As did the coldness.
During her first day married to Riordan, she experienced none of this, thank heavens. Sabrina closed her eyes, reliving his passionate kiss after the registrar declared them married. Then his tender kisses last night. After the ceremony, he was solicitous, engaged in every aspect of their shopping trip, assisting her in selecting books and giving his opinion when asked about the couple of dresses she’d purchased. He’d made her tea. Acted interested in what she had to say.
Sabrina was not used to any of this. Though overwhelming, she found she took great delight in not only his company, but his attention. All her talk of boundaries and still he kissed her. Regardless of the limitations she tried to place, she did not stop it, for she quite liked it. Her fingers brushed her lips, the memory of him still upon them. Gathering the sheets and blankets, she held them up to her nose and inhaled. His lime and bergamot scent. Masculine. Enticing.
The sound of Riordan moving about caught her attention. Was he dressing? Her cheeks flushed as she imagined it. There was no mistaking: he was a fine figure of a man. The strange sensations when they touched, when they kissed. She wanted more. As quietly as possible, she rose from the bed and crept to the door. Voices. Mary had arrived. Cracking open the door, she listened.
“I will attend church services with you both, Mr. Black. Then I will return here and ensure her ladyship is settled in. Regarding lunches, sir.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not much of a cook, but I can manage certain meals, as well as make scones and biscuits. I’ll handle Lady Sabrina’s lunch. Will you be coming here for your break, or staying at the school?”
Sabrina waited for his response with bated breath. See him every day for luncheon? Her heart swelled with anticipation. How odd. She never expected to have these feelings toward any man. What feelings, exactly, remained a mystery.
“Most days I will stay at the school. I manage to accomplish much during the break, planning, correcting, and the like, but there are days I will come here for the meal. I will give you plenty of notice,” Riordan answered.
“Very good, sir.”
“Make a list of what needs to be purchased. There is not much here, seeing as my meals have been supplied by Mrs. Ingersoll. I usually take what remains from supper for lunch the next day.”
“Leave it with me, sir. I’ll speak with Mrs. Ingersoll and we’ll work out the meals between us. I should see to her ladyship. She doesn’t rise much before nine.”
Sabrina scurried to the bed, climbing under the covers. Mary entered the room, closing the door behind her. “Good morning, my lady.”
“Good morning, Mary.”
“We best get you ready for church. You should have a bite before we depart, though there’s not much here. Sandwiches from yesterday will have to do.” Mary tossed aside the covers. “Sleep well?”
“I did.”
Mary leaned in and whispered, “I think I woke Mr. Black. He answered the door looking disheveled and appealing.”
“Mary!”
Her maid winked, then commenced bustling about the room, opening Sabrina’s luggage, laying out the newly purchased dark blue wool dress with pearl buttons. “This will do nicely. Understated, but elegant.” Mary lifted a cloth bag onto the bed. She removed a book and handed it to Sabrina. “Not what you’re used to reading, but I recommend it.”
“The Bold Seduction of Miss Featherstone?”
“Yes, my lady. It is erotic. More sensuous than salacious.” Mary tapped the cover of the book. “Time you knew what passion consists of, though by your expression when Mr. Black kissed you yesterday, I believe you’re beginning to understand what pleasure can be had with a man.”
“This is entirely improper….”
“Oh, bosh, my lady. Read it. It involves a rake, the son of a viscount and an ex-soldier.” Mary sighed. “What a delicious hero. Reminds me of Mr. Black, with the dark hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders.” Mary cleared her throat. “Well, best to get the day underway. I suppose you heard my conversation with Mr. Black.”
Sabrina chuckled. “You know me well.”
“We’ll get it all sorted, my lady, don’t you worry. The meals and the cleaning and whatnot. Three months will fly by.”
Sabrina trailed the tips of her fingers across the gold-embossed title of the book. Seduction? Passion? Mary was correct, as usual: she absolutely knew nothing about it. Did she wish to learn? Perhaps she was incapable of base emotions.
She had close to three months to discover if such were the case. But if her reaction to his kisses was any indication, and the fact that she’d impulsively embraced him twice already, Sabrina suspected she may have found the one man who held the key to her locked away and hidden emotions. What to do about it was another question entirely.