Page 66 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

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.

Chapter 25

“One of the maids will come and prepare a bath for you. Then she will bring you a tray of food.” Julian Wollstonecraft pointed to the bed. “The maid, Helen, has volunteered a nightgown and dressing gown.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Never had she been in the presence of such formidable, handsome men. Gazing at the viscount, she could hardly credit this was Riordan’s father; though there were many threads of gray at his temples, he looked more like an older brother. The viscount was a sinfully striking man with a near perfect profile. It was plain to see where Riordan got his dark good looks and athletic build.

Though she did not move about in society much when married to Pepperdon, snippets of gossip did reach her—especially the salacious tale about Julian Wollstonecraft and a disreputable actress caught having sexual relations in an opera box. Even tales of Riordan’s grandfather, the earl, and a young baronet’s widow reached her.

“No one will disturb you for the rest of the night. You have my word. In the morning, my father and brother will be heading to Carrbury to collect your maid, Miss Tuttle. We’ve already sent word that you have been recovered and are safe.”

“She is not my maid any longer, but my dear friend. I also want my kitten and my belongings, if you please.”

“I do beg your pardon. Your friend, then. Should you not speak to Riordan first before making such a decision?” His tone was kind, but she bristled nonetheless at his suggestion.

“You may inform Riordan that I will speak to him tomorrow afternoon. Three o’clock, here in this room. Until then, I would like to be left alone, thank you.” Her voice sounded cold to her own ears. As the viscount turned to leave, she said in a warmer tone, “I do thank your entire family for coming to…well, to my rescue.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “I’m relieved you were able to locate me.”

“It is due to providence and the superior investigation skills of Mr. Seward. And Riordan’s dogged insistence. Anything you need, please, let the maid know.”

She nodded. “I will.”

He closed the door, and the handle no sooner clicked in place when the tears came. For hours she had held them in reserve by sheer force. Male voices drifted in from the hallway.

“Father, let me pass. I need to see her. I need to…hold her.” Riordan. His passionately spoken words made her heart ache with longing, enough that she nearly opened the door and threw herself into his warm embrace. But if she did, she would shatter into jagged shards.

“She’s asked to be alone tonight. Honor her wishes. She will see you tomorrow. Come, we’ll have a brandy and I will tell you all….” The voices drifted away.

Sabrina threw herself onto the large bed, gathered the pillow in her arms, and cried into it, hoping it would smother her ragged sobs. Her heart was breaking. Perhaps already broken beyond all repairing. Not only from her hateful father selling her—more than once—but to Riordan’s betrayal. Her mind swirled, why he would lie about the settlement? And his name? What else had he lied about?

Was all that had passed between them a lie? Her emotions were raged; this was not the time to try and sort through her confused feelings. She couldn’t make sense of anything. Oh, how she wished Mary was here. She could always put things in their proper perspective.

Her sobs quieted. She took great gulps of air and exhaled to calm her frayed nerves. If there was no settlement, how would she and Mary survive? Another problem to work through. A knock disturbed her thoughts. Sabrina sat upright and dashed the tears from her cheeks. “Yes?”

“It’s Helen, the maid, my lady.”

For a moment she’d thought it might be Riordan again, which simultaneously annoyed and thrilled her. Despite all this, she still loved him. Drat the man. When he kicked in the door at the inn, her heart leapt with relief and anticipation. He’d come for her. As she knew he would. Oh, why did he lie and ruin it?

“Come in.”

An older woman of middling years entered with footmen carrying the tub and a phalanx of maids carrying buckets of water. The tub was filled quickly and slight wisps of steam curled into the air. The maid placed rose petals in the water. How inviting. When had she last received such care?