Page 61 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

Sliding off the chaise carefully, so as not to disturb Mittens, she smoothed her skirt and headed toward the door. Opening it, she gasped in shock.

Her wretched father.

She tried to close the door, but the baron stuck his booted foot across the doorjamb. “I have need of you once more.” He pushed his way into the cottage and slammed the door behind him.

“We have nothing to say to each other,” Sabrina sniffed.

“I beg to differ. Remember that I said there would be consequences.” He pulled a small bottle out of his coat pocket. “Drink it.”

She raised her chin in the air. “I will not.”

Her father glanced around the room, and his cruel gaze settled on the sleeping kitten. “Yours?” He stepped toward the chaise.

“Do not touch her!” Sabrina cried, remembering the threat he had made toward the kitten she’d wanted years past.

“Drink what is in the bottle or I will wring the mangy creature’s throat,” her father snapped.

Panic began to set in. Why was he here? Oh, why hadn’t she told Riordan about her father’s threats? Why hadn’t she taken them seriously? All she wanted was to place all memory of her father in the past, and because of that she’d placed herself in danger. “What is it?”

“Enough laudanum to keep you quiet on the journey. Sutherhorne has made an offer I cannot and will not refuse. He wants you still, and for what he has offered, I will deliver you to him. This very day.”

Sabrina’s heart chilled. “No. Do not do this.”

He slammed his fist on the table, knocking the teacup to the floor. It smashed into pieces. “I. Have. No. Choice.”

“We all have choices.” Sabrina vaulted toward the bedroom. There she could lock the door, perhaps escape through the window. But her father moved too quickly. He grabbed her arm, wrenching it and causing her to cry out in pain. She bumped against the table and the saucer joined the cup on the floor, shattering on impact.

“The sooner you drink this, the sooner this will be over with. My carriage awaits.”

“But I’m married—”

“I don’t think Sutherhorne much cares. When the marquess has his mind set, he is determined to have his way. Now, drink the contents of the bottle or I will snap the cat’s neck.”

She gave her father a deadly look; she knew him well enough to know he would do it. “This could poison me.”

“I measured the correct amount. I would not damage the goods.”

Goods. Chattel. Property. That is all she ever was to her father. Snatching the bottle from the table, she pulled out the stopper and drank. The bitter taste made her shudder.

He pulled her toward the door. “Then let us depart.”

“You’re a hateful man.” Already her words were slurred.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Next she knew she was bundled into the carriage. Her surroundings spun at a rapid pace as the horses lurched forward. All turned to darkness.

* * * *

Riordan was having an incredible day. To wake with Sabrina in his arms was heaven on earth. Because she slept contentedly, he did not disturb her when he rose from the bed. Leaving the naughty note would give her a smile, he was sure of it.

The children were working diligently on their geography assignments when a frantic knock interrupted the quiet. His students all raised their heads questioningly. “I will see to the door, continue on with your work.”

He opened it and Mary stood there, a worried look on her face. She clutched his arm and pulled him outside, away from the children’s hearing. “Mrs. Ingersoll came to fetch me. She arrived at the cottage at two o’clock to do the housekeeping, but Sabrina was not there. She thought at first she’d gone for a walk, but when she discovered the smashed teacup and saucer, she became worried.”

Mary took a deep breath and exhaled. “She also found the teapot. The contents had boiled away. The kitten was in an agitated state. Sabrina would not go out and leave the teapot boiling on the stove. Besides, her cloak is still on the hook. It is too chilly to go walking without it. Something has happened. There are carriage tracks and hoofprints by the door. More than one set of footprints in the mud. A man’s boot, to be sure.”

Damn. Alarm bells pealed inside him. Her father? The marquess? Who else could it be? “Can you stay here until dismissal? Or better yet, when they finish their assignment, have them pass it in and allow them to go home. Once the last student is gone, make haste to the cottage and wait for me.” Jesus, he’d have to run to Walsh’s farm for his horse. “I’m heading to Durning’s.”