Chapter 24
Opening her eyes, Sabrina was met by hazy images. She blinked several times to try and focus. A room at an inn? It was not an expensive one, if the sparse furnishings were any indication. The bed was narrow and uncomfortable. She wrinkled her nose. This place reeked of horrible odors she did not want to guess at the origins of. With great difficulty she sat upright, the bedframe squeaking with her efforts.
“You’re awake.”
Her loathsome father. She remembered all of it. How he made her accompany him after taking the laudanum. Her mouth was dry and tasted bitter and her stomach churned. “Explain what you mean by Sutherhorne is willing to pay,” she said.
The baron crossed his legs. “A railway scheme I was involved in has collapsed. I’m close to ruin. There may be an investigation by parliament, as there have been many such schemes. I will not go to debtor’s prison.” He reached in his side coat pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “And this anonymous letter has destroyed my chances with Lady Irene and her substantial dowry. I’ve no choice but to sell you. Again.”
Her heart froze. “Sell?” The word came out as a croak. Again? No. She’d told Riordan her father had sold her to the highest bidder, but she’d used the exaggerated phrase to punctuate a point. Never did she believe she was literately sold. “What do you mean?”
“I held an auction when you turned eighteen. Quite a few peers attended, all for the chance of having a young virgin bride. Since there is a chance of being arrested for selling a woman for profit, they all signed confidentiality agreements before I allowed them to attend. The bidding became particularly intense between Sutherhorne and Pepperdon. The earl won, since Sutherhorne’s fortune was not as robust as it is now. Though I have to hand it to the stubborn marquess.” Her father chuckled cruelly. “When he wants something, he is determined. And he wants you.”
Auction. Her blood curdled. Sutherhorne’s cryptic statement now made sense. I have waited eleven years for this, Sabrina, and I have run out of patience. You see, your father chose Pepperdon over me. There was more than one suitor for your hand. Quite the…contest.
Oh. My. God.
“Imagine my surprise when Sutherhorne contacted me last week, claiming he wished to reopen negotiations.” Her father stood and walked about the room. “He met my exorbitant price. It will be enough to see me free and clear from my financial obligations and start again.”
“You’re the worst sort of man. Selling your only child…a thirty-year-old woman!” she cried.
The baron swung about to face her, his face thunderous. “You are nothing to me but property. I can do as I like, regardless of your age.” He stomped toward her, waving the paper in her face. “Well deserved, in light of this. You owe me. This letter came from you; do not deny it. I showed it to George and he recognized your bitch of a maid’s handwriting.”
“I don’t deny it. Someone had to warn the poor, innocent girl. You would have destroyed her life. As you have destroyed mine.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You are my father. You’re supposed to protect me. But you never have. You’re supposed to love me, but you never have. I still don’t understand why you act this way. Why treat me so miserably? What have I ever done to you?”
“You were born a female. I wanted a son to carry on my name. Not a sniveling, grasping daughter. What good are daughters but a millstone about a man’s neck? No, I never loved you. But don’t take it personally; I am incapable of the emotion.” His lips curled. “On top of that, you’re an interfering cow for ruining my chances with Lady Irene. For that alone, you deserve this fate.”
His words were spoken with cold indifference. Looking into his dead eyes, Sabrina saw the truth in his surprisingly honest statement of being unable to love. For years she thought there was something fundamentally wrong with her. Now it became clear: it was not her at all. She was not unworthy of love. Riordan had proved it. Especially last night. It had taken her this long to realize her father was soulless, with no heart, no morals. Evil to the core. The worst sort of man, out for his own selfish needs.
Purchased for Sutherhorne? Sabrina could not allow this to happen. She would do anything to return to her passionate schoolmaster. “I’ll give you the ten thousand pound settlement if you release me. I swear I will. No one need ever know what you’ve done. We will go our separate ways and forget this day.”
Her father laughed cruelly, then he sobered. “Here is the truth: there’s no money. Never was. Sutherhorne was going to pay for you again once you came out of mourning; it is why he came to Durning House a couple of months past, but that damned interfering schoolmaster ruined the plan. The man had me sign a paper claiming there is money…but there isn’t. He lied to you and married you under false pretenses. Why you stir such passions in men that they go to great lengths to claim you is beyond me.”
Sabrina did not think this situation could get any worse, but it had. Her heart shattered. Riordan would not lie. They sat in a solicitor’s office, signed official papers… Yet the solicitor was his friend. Was it all an elaborate plot? To what end? This made no sense whatsoever. She shook her head. “No. He would not lie to me.”
Her father shrugged. “Believe what you will, but think about it: if there was money, I would have used it to better my situation, not allow you to marry some upstart. I signed the paper because I wanted you gone. With Sutherhorne out of the picture, I knew I would be stuck with you. I let the schoolmaster have his way.” He stared at her. “You left a trunk full of gowns behind. I sold them for over two hundred pounds because I needed the money. Chew on that.”
Could all of this be true? She’d seen the proof on display at the dress shop. There had to be an explanation about the money. Riordan would not deceive her. “You’ve become a true villain. Kidnapping? Selling your daughter for profit?”
He tucked the letter back into his pocket. “Did you not hear me?” he sneered. “I have no choice.”
“We all have choices,” she snapped. “You will not take mine away ever again. My husband will come for me. I know it.”
The baron’s eyebrows shot up. “Why, because he’s the hero?”
“He is my hero. It’s all that counts,” she sniffed.
Her father snorted. “He won’t be for long, I’ll wager. Now cease your incessant chattering. I’ve sent word to Sutherhorne, he should be here presently.” He strode across the room and took a seat.
She felt sick to her core. There was no doubt Riordan would come after her, but how on earth would he find her? As far as her father’s statement about the money, she would not believe it. Not until she heard it from Riordan’s own lips. Oh, please find me, my love. Be my hero.
* * * *
They made it to London in record time, Garrett’s message arriving only thirty minutes before they did—but Edwin Seward had already sprung into action. Stopping at his small office on the outskirts of Whitechapel, one of his underlings informed them that Mr. Seward had placed men in Mayfair to keep the marquess’s townhouse under surveillance, and would they please make themselves comfortable as he would return directly.
“I will not sit around while Sabrina is in her father and Sutherhorne’s clutches,” Riordan shouted.
The earl laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Easy. We have to craft a plan. We cannot move forward until we know where she is.”
“I will tear London apart until I find her,” Riordan declared.
“Ah, the passion of youth,” the earl smiled.
A man strode into the small office. “Edwin.” Garrett took the man’s hand and shook it. This Edwin had the look of a former Bow Street Runner: tall, imposing, with shrewd eyes that studied his surroundings. A scar ran down the side of his face, from his left temple to the corner of his mouth. Danger exuded from him, but also an aura of confidence and competency.
“Allow me to introduce you. My father, Oliver Wollstonecraft, the Earl of Carnstone. Next to him, my brother Julian, Viscount Tensbridge. And this is my nephew, Riordan, Aidan’s twin. They’re not identical, but you can ascertain the similarities in features.” Garrett turned to face his family. “I gave Edwin the small painted portrait done on the twins’ twentieth birthday.”
Mr. Seward shook the men’s hands. When he came to Julian, he said, “We’re doing all we can to locate your son, my lord.”
“Excellent. Two days past, I instructed my steward to contact the bank and discontinue Aidan’s quarterly payments. If he resurfaces and tries to collect, they will inform me.”
Mr. Seward nodded. “A prudent plan, my lord. We will discuss it further soon.”
Riordan blew out a breath. Freezing the funds would anger Aidan. But if it helped locate him, all the better. His brother could hardly indulge in his vices with no coin. Riordan’s own quarterly payments had sat untouched since he’d accepted the teaching position.
“Now, why we’re all here,” Mr. Seward intoned. “It’s by sheer luck we caught Sutherhorne departing his townhouse. I followed him to a small inn on Cheapside. It’s not far from here, a few miles southwest. I’ve two of my men standing by. I would suggest we head there with all haste.”
Racing through the cobblestone streets, they reached the grubby little inn on Cheapside, nestled between a poultry market and a number of brick row houses. Riordan wrinkled his nose at the odor. Apparently the market had a number of live chickens, and the stench of poultry waste made his eyes water.
Riordan was off Grayson before the horse came to a full stop, with Mr. Seward right behind him. The investigator stopped and nodded toward a man standing by the door. “Top floor, Mr. Seward. Room fourteen. He’s not alone; I heard voices. Another man and a woman. The man arrived five minutes past.”
What luck they were able to locate the marquess. What if the baron hadn’t stopped at an inn, but delivered Sabrina directly and the marquess had left the city before they’d even arrived? Riordan vaulted the stairs two at time. The stairway was dark and narrow and creaked loudly under his boots; no doubt they could hear their approach.
Mr. Seward and Garrett were directly behind Riordan. Garrett had his gun drawn, a Colt Paterson revolver from America. With a swift kick, Riordan tore the flimsy wooden door from its hinges. He entered the room, his frantic gaze locking on Sabrina, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her expression was shuttered, but he could read the fear in her beautiful eyes.
Garrett raised his revolver and pulled back on the hammer. Mr. Seward stood on the other side of Riordan, holding a similar weapon.
“Ah. What perfect timing. Sabrina, meet Riordan Wollstonecraft,” Sutherhorne sneered. The look of shock on her face tore at Riordan’s heart. Damn it all, he should have told her everything before this. Last night especially. “You did not know of his true identity? How interesting. I only found out myself two days ago, when I opened an investigation into the men who’d bodily manhandled and threatened me at the Carrbury Inn.” The marquess’s eyes narrowed as he glared at both he and Garrett.
The viscount and the earl entered the room. Both of them held unsheathed swords from their Malacca walking sticks. “And here is the rest of the venerable clan,” Sutherhorne mocked. “On a rescue mission, I assume?”
“Riordan?” Sabrina whispered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Is this true? Black is not your name?”
“Sabrina, I can explain—”
Sutherhorne grabbed Sabrina’s arm and brought her none too gently to her feet. She struggled under his grip, her face stricken. “No explanations are necessary. I’ve made my acquisition, and you will allow us to leave. I was not going to bother with an annulment, merely keep her as my mistress. But I believe we’d best keep this above board. She was promised to me. Your so-called marriage is forfeit. I will ensure any court will rule in my favor.”
“Not bloody likely,” the earl hissed dangerously. “You don’t have a legal foot to stand on.”
“Legal? We will call for the Metropolitan Police and have you both arrested. Mistress? Your slave, is more like it. Women are not chattel to be bartered, sold, or held and used against their will,” Riordan yelled. “To hell with being civilized, I’m going to beat you senseless.” He vaulted forward, but Mr. Seward grasped his arm. Sutherhorne shrank back, no doubt reading the murderous intent in Riordan’s expression.
Julian pressed the tip of his sword against the baron’s heart. “Give the satchel to the marquess, Durning. The transaction has been cancelled.”
“No. I need this money. I’ll be ruined.” He clasped the satchel closer. “There is thirty thousand pounds in here.”
Sutherhorne dragged Sabrina toward the door, but she managed to wriggle out of his grip. “If you think I will submit to this, you are sadly mistaken. All of you.” She faced Sutherhorne, her look determined. “I’m not a green girl any longer. I will not cower in fear. I will fight every step of the way and make your life a misery. You will not own any part of me…ever.”
Is it any wonder he loved her? Seeing her standing there, defiant, he fell more in love. How could he not? She was magnificent.
Sabrina turned her resolute gaze to Riordan. “No man shall ever own me.”
Ominous words. And directed at him. Perhaps she would feel differently once he explained his logical reasoning for lying. But he could hardly explain himself here. Because of his male arrogance, believing he could protect her from all harm and hurt, he hadn’t protected her at all.
Riordan stepped forward. “This repulsive episode is at an end. Baron, give up the satchel or blood will be shed this day.”
Durning let the satchel fall to the floor. The container fell open, and numerous notes and gold guineas spread across the dusty wood floor. Garrett whistled at the sight.
“Sutherhorne, retrieve your money. Relinquish all claims on Sabrina. Say it,” Riordan barked. His grandfather placed the point of his blade against Sutherhorne’s chest.
“I relinquish all claims on Lady Pepperdon.”
“Her name is Sabrina Black. Say her name,” Riordan growled.
“Sabrina Black, then. Let her be your problem.” The marquess’s cold, gray eyes held murderous intent. “I shall not forget the humiliation I have borne. Nor shall I forget those behind it.” His thunderous look slid from Riordan and landed on Garrett. In a deadly tone so low Riordan could hardly hear it, Sutherhorne said, “This is far from over.” Did he threaten Garrett? The entire family?
Edwin Seward gently grasped Sabrina’s arm. “I suggest, gentlemen, we take our leave.”
Durning scrambled to gather the wayward money and scoop it into the satchel.
“Hand it over to me, Durning,” Sutherhorne commanded.
“I cannot go to debtor’s prison,” the baron sniveled.
“You shall,” Riordan yelled. “Or this entire incident will be made public. And you will be going to Newgate Prison instead.”
The men backed out of the room and quickly made their way downstairs. Sabrina was trembling. “But…what about Sutherhorne?” she asked.
The earl shook his head. “He is a marquess, above us all, and he has Prince Albert’s ear. He is untouchable, and he knows it. Peers are rarely arrested and prosecuted for crimes. It’s far from fair, but unfortunately it’s how Society functions. The rich and powerful rule, profit, and escape justice.”
Riordan motioned toward Grayson. “Come, Sabrina. We will head to Wollstonecraft Hall.”
She pointed to Garrett. “I will ride with him.”
Riordan took a step toward her, but his father held his arm. “Leave her be, Son. This is not the time.” His father was right, but damn it, her expression of disgust, anger, and fear made his heart crack in two. He was responsible for this mess. It was all on him.
After they shook Edwin Seward’s hand and the man departed, Garrett helped Sabrina onto his large horse and slid into the saddle behind her. Riordan could not tear his eyes from her; she would not even look at him.
“Lady Pepperdon, my nephew did not mean to deceive you, he—” Garrett began.
“Please, Mr. Wollstonecraft. I would prefer we not speak on the journey, for I shall cry or rage, or both.”
Garrett gathered the reins. “As you wish, my lady.”
Riordan swung his leg up and over the saddle and mounted Grayson. His heart was heavy, his stomach roiling. He may have destroyed the love and trust they’d built between them. Idiot. He should’ve told her. Everything. All his blather about wanting a partner in life and he had not been honest with her. Life would not be worth living if he lost her.
Following behind Garrett, his father and grandfather mounted their horses, and soon they were all heading out of London toward Kent and Wollstonecraft Hall.
Loving Sabrina was all he wanted. All that remained was to convince her he was worth loving in return.