Chapter 6
Surprisingly, Sabrina slept well after her nocturnal visit to Mr. Black. Correct that—Riordan. She couldn’t bring herself to address him as such, at least not to his face, even though he’d called her Sabrina. She never should have suggested they use first names. What had possessed her?
However, her inner thoughts used his given name. It was Irish in origin, and certainly fit with his black-as-midnight hair and startling light blue eyes. His pale skin was creamy and flawless—Celtic, to be sure. His speech was elegant, but she assumed it had come more from his training than his actual background.
The schoolmaster had told her nothing of his life. Perhaps he came from the middle class? What did it matter; she would not be bound to him for life. Sabrina didn’t like the idea of him contacting a solicitor, but it was one way to be sure of the options. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, closed her eyes, and started drifting to sleep.
Mary entered the room and bustled to the window, tearing open the silver drapes, allowing sun to pour into the room. “It is nigh on eleven o’clock, my lady. You never sleep this late. I’ll bring you toast and tea immediately. Are you well?”
Mary hurried to her bedside and plumped the pillows as Sabrina yawned and sat upright, blinking at the bright autumn sun. “I must have needed the sleep. Toast and tea sound lovely. I suppose my father did not miss me at breakfast?”
“I doubt it, my lady. He left around eight this morning. I hear he’s off to London for two days, paying a visit to a certain young lady. Would you like me to find out the name?”
A good thing Mary kept her apprised of the comings and goings and other activities of the house, or Sabrina would have no idea what was going on. Her father told her nothing. “Yes, be subtle about it.” A maid from downstairs entered the room carrying a tray and Mary took it from her. The girl gave an awkward curtsy and left the room.
“Here we are,” Mary murmured, laying the tray on Sabrina’s lap. “Toast, tea, and fresh blackberry jam, just how you like it.”
Her devoted lady’s maid was about fifty-five years of age, the daughter of a sailor. When Mary’s father was lost at sea in her early twenties, she’d no choice but to enter service to keep a roof over her head and look after her widowed mother.
By the time Sabrina had arrived at the Pepperdon estate, Mary was already there as a parlor maid, and since she’d served as a lady’s maid to the former Lady Pepperdon, Sabrina chose Mary to do the same for her. With her no-nonsense manner, twinkling brown eyes, and kind nature, Mary was precisely what Sabrina needed. Though her chestnut-brown hair had threads of gray at her temples, her pleasant face remained remarkably unlined.
Mary spoiled her terribly, but Sabrina reveled in it. It was the first time in her life anyone had paid attention to her in a positive way. How many nights did her kind maid offer soothing solace after a horrific episode with Pepperdon? At the lowest points of her life, it comforted Sabrina to think of Mary as a kindly aunt. Servants were not supposed to be thought of in such a way, but Sabrina couldn’t help it. Mary was all she had.
Swallowing down the ball of emotion lodged in her throat, she gave Mary a warm smile. “I do not tell you enough how much I appreciate you. You mean a great deal to me. Have a seat, Mary. I must tell you about our status in this house. It is rather precarious.”
Mary sat in the chair next to the bed. “I’ve an idea what you’re about to say. The servants do gossip, I’m afraid. Your father wishes to marry you off to another elderly peer.”
Sabrina arched an eyebrow as she sipped her tea.
“George is worse than an old washer woman for gossiping. He needs a talking to. Mentioned you met the schoolmaster for luncheon. Alone. Although he did believe your tale about it being a business-type meeting, contributions for the school and the like. But it wasn’t, was it, my lady?”
Spreading jam on her toast, she shook her head. “No, Mary. It was not about the school.”
“I heard from the twittering maids that the new schoolmaster is a virile young man, with black hair and sparkling blue eyes to rival the summer sky above. I’m quoting the foolish young things, mind you.”
What an apt description. “He is as you describe. When I tell you why I went to see him, you will be shocked.”
In between eating her toast and sipping her tea, she told Mary everything—even of her clandestine visit of last night.
Mary sat back in her chair, her mouth slightly agape. “You astound me, my lady.”
“I astound myself. Never believed I had it in me to be audacious. But if I can enter this sham of a marriage, obtain a quick and quiet annulment, and collect the settlement agreed upon, then you and I will move far from here. I’ll be able to purchase a small cottage by the sea, large enough for the two of us.” Sabrina frowned into her half empty cup. “Perhaps at last I will find a modicum of peace.” The last words ended on a whisper.
Mary patted her hand. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you, my lady. But how can you trust this schoolmaster? He’s a stranger, only been in the area barely a month.”
Sabrina recalled listening to his lesson outside the window. She’d been enthralled by the mere resonance of his deep, hypnotizing voice. In the rich tones she’d heard consideration, civility, and intelligence. At that point, she did not care a bit what he looked like, he sounded…honest. Sincere. Then, when she had seen him…Lord, what a vision. She nearly sighed aloud thinking of him standing there, the wind ruffling his thick, black hair. The afternoon sun framing him in a golden halo.
Enough daydreaming. “He is a complete stranger, but I believe he is a proper one. I heard something in his voice, the way he spoke to the children, treated them with respect. He may not even agree to any of this. Perhaps I’m mad.”
“Let me see what I can find out about him. Mr. Riordan Black, you say his name is?” Sabrina nodded. “I’ll venture to town this afternoon, for your embroidery thread, and make subtle inquiries.”
“I don’t like to embroider, as you well know.” Sabrina smiled sardonically.
“True, but the baron doesn’t know it.” Mary stood. “Now, we should get you dressed and ready for the day.” Opening the nearby wardrobe, Mary held up the black bombazine dress.
“Discard the mourning garments, Mary. I am done with them. The black bonnets as well.” Mary tossed the dress to the bed and instead held up a green and yellow walking dress. Two years out of date, but who would notice?
Confusing feelings swirled about in her mind. This was to be a business arrangement, nothing more. However, she found Riordan attractive. Sabrina would never act on it. Her course of abstinence was set. Never again would a man lay a hand on her for any purpose.
* * * *
With the harvest break upon him, Riordan headed to Wollstonecraft Hall. Since his family estate was located near Sevenoaks in Kent and a mere twenty-one miles from London, he was sorely tempted to head to town and locate Sutherhorne. A visit to Barley, Kenworth, and Davis, Barristers and Solicitors, should be at the top of his list. Sitting at the dining room table, he pulled William Chambers’s letter from the side pocket of his coat and snapped it open.
Dear Riordan,
Smashing to hear from you! It has been too long. You, a schoolmaster? Knowing your progressive thoughts and beliefs, I suppose I am not surprised. Well done.
To address your inquires: Scotland is not a viable option. It is too far away and with many complicated rules, such as a permanent residency. There are other options for an annulment besides the ones you mentioned in your letter. One of you could claim the other insane and state that you did not know what you were doing when you entered into the marriage. There is also the underage option, or claiming force was used to ensure the marriage took place.
Or, one of you could claim fraudulent reasons. That one deceived the other into a marriage by using a false name, for example.
I can do nothing to assist with an annulment, as the cases are heard before the ecclesiastical court of the Church of England, and only proctors or advocates from the Doctors Common can oversee the proceedings. It is a drawn-out process, and the length of time before the annulment is granted varies case by case. Though most annulments are approved, there are a number that are refused. A person would be stuck with the other for the rest of their lives. It is a hell of a gamble.
I am almost afraid to inquire as to why you are asking these questions. While I sympathize with the unknown lady in question and her “hypothetical” dilemma, I beseech you to come see me here, at the office in London, or at my residence before you do anything rash.
Rescuing a damsel in distress, while an honorable cause, could have life-changing consequences.
Your concerned friend,
William
The passage about fraudulent reasons stood out like a lighthouse beacon. If he married her at a registrar’s office using the name Riordan Black, would it be considered fraud on his part? Grounds for an annulment? He scanned the rest of the letter. What honorable man did not desire to rescue a damsel in distress? Though he doubted Sabrina would wish to be thought of as such. As if he knew her at all.
Garrett strode into the room, heading straight for the sideboard. When most of the family was away, meals were informal. “Martin told me you arrived about thirty minutes past. Homesick already?”
Considering there were only six years’ difference in their ages, he thought of Garrett more as an older brother than an uncle. He slipped the letter into his pocket, then sipped his tea.
Garrett had hit the nail on the head: he was homesick, but he would never admit it. “Hardly. There is a short break for the autumn harvest. The children are expected to help out, free labor and the like.”
Garrett set his overloaded plate of sliced roast pork and assorted vegetables on the table, then sat across from Riordan. “Ah yes, the exploitation of children in the labor market. It is only right they assist with the running of a farm, it keeps them housed and fed.”
“I should have expected as such from you, seeing you have hay on your shirt and smell of horse,” Riordan teased.
Garrett laughed good-naturedly. “Come now, I do agree education is important. But so is the running of a family farm. At the least, the labor is honest and for the greater good of the family, unlike those poor youngsters who toil twelve hours a day in factories in wretched conditions, receiving no education whatsoever.”
Riordan gave his uncle a nod. “You’ve got me there. Speaking of farms and such, how is Starlight faring?”
His uncle’s face lit up at the mention of his prize mare. “Swimmingly. She came through the birth in fine fettle. The foal? He’s an excellent specimen, will be a welcome addition to the stable. And Grayson?”
Grayson was Riordan’s horse, a six-year-old gelding he’d ridden exclusively for the past several years. “Stabled at a nearby farm. I ride him when I can, usually on Saturday and Sunday. He’s being well looked after. You can see for yourself; he’s being fed in the stable as we speak.”
“I will check on him later.”
“I had hoped to borrow a wagon and take pieces of furniture with me to Carrbury. We do have older pieces in storage, do we not? Is there a mattress?”
Garrett shrugged in between bites. “There are some choice bits in the attic of the barn. As for a mattress, we will have to ask Mrs. Barnes. She could no doubt scrounge up proper bedding as well.”
“Where is Aidan? Not coming down for dinner?”
Garrett grunted. “Since the blow with Julian, he scampered off to Bath, to lick his wounds and indulge in his various vices.”
Bath was a favorite haunt of his brother’s, a place of escape when his father and grandfather were in London. In Bath Aidan could attend as many brothels as he chose, or have a scandalous fling with an actress from one of the city’s many theaters without fear of censure. How could twin brothers be as different as they were? Since they were paternal twins they did not look exactly alike, and from their cribs they could not have been more dissimilar.
From his early youth, Aidan was always involved in mischief, leading the governess and nurse on a merry chase. Only Mrs. Barnes, the housekeeper, could put Aidan in his place with a stern look and a wag of her finger. Riordan decided not to follow his brother down such a mischievous path, and instead became a sober and studious young lad. The praise he earned managed to inflame his brother’s disobedient behavior and increase it a hundredfold.
Finally, Julian had had enough and sent Aidan away to school at age ten, two years before Riordan joined him. Perhaps that is when the resentment took root between father and son. The more their father reprimanded Aidan, the worse he acted. No amount of admonishment from the earl or the kindly Mrs. Barnes had any effect.
There was a serious clash coming, Riordan could sense it: irreparable harm causing a permanent rupture between Aidan and the rest of the family. Harsh words would be spoken, never to be taken back, Aidan sinking to even lower depths, losing himself in debauchery. If only there was a way he could broker peace between his father and brother. If only…
“Thinking of Aidan?” Garrett asked.
“How can you tell?”
Garrett pointed his fork in Riordan’s direction. “You always get a particular worried look, like your eyebrows are knotted. Leave Aidan to his devices. He will tire of them soon enough.” Riordan wasn’t as sure. “I’ll come with you to Carrbury. That way I can assist you with the furniture and shortly thereafter return home. I believe I will use Juno for the trip; he’s strong enough to pull a wagon full of furniture. Besides, I want to see your setup. Are you enjoying teaching?”
Riordan reached for a fresh piece of bread and buttered it generously. “More than I ever imagined. To be able to mold and shape young minds, open them to worlds they never knew existed. To see the awe on their faces as they learn something new or accomplish a goal. To know you are making a difference in their lives, expanding their imaginations, to show them life holds many and all possibilities.”
“A noble calling,” Garrett murmured. “You make me feel guilty for not doing more regarding the family’s varied causes.”
“Nonsense. You do plenty for the tenants and surrounding farms. Did you not assist Mr. Jacobi in repairing his roof last month, not only with your labor, but by buying many of the supplies needed as well?”
“Bah. The man had a hard year, it was the least I could do. I’m hiring a few men to help repair Sir Walter Keenan’s fences. I attended the funeral on behalf of the family, and met the niece who is to take possession of the place. The property is in worse condition than I originally thought. Alberta Eaton, the benefactor of the will, is a widow living with a young man I first thought to be her son, but is in fact her brother-in-law.” Garrett tapped his temple. “The lad is simple, and I assume not able to oversee any renovations.”
Riordan gave Garrett a teasing wink. “A widow, you say?”
Garrett scoffed. “Though attractive enough, she is too old for me. Around Julian’s age, I would guess. Besides, you’re well aware I have no interest in romantic entanglements, especially with a neighbor. Blasted awkward.” Garrett shoved another forkful of pork and vegetables in his mouth.
Speaking of entanglements. Riordan was tempted to inform Garrett about what had happened since he’d arrived at Carrbury, but caution stilled his tongue. First, he must meet with William and ascertain the lay of the land before deciding what to do about Lady Sabrina.