Page 55 of His Sinful Touch

“What are you saying? He’s waiting for someone in the family?” Lilah looked at her, her eyes opening wider. “You think he’s watching the house, don’t you? Spying on the Morelands.”

“I think at the least he’s watching to see who comes and goes so he can tell Mr. Dearborn.”

“The Dearborns hired him?”

“They wouldn’t want to loiter on the streets themselves. And I don’t think they believed Alex when he said I was no longer in the house.”

“They intend to snatch you if you walk out of the house? But that’s kidnapping! Surely it’s illegal.”

“Is it? He is my guardian. I fear the law would agree with him.”

“How awful. And unfair.” Lilah frowned. “But he wouldn’t have had time to have gone and hired someone since he left here. It’s only been a few minutes.”

“I think... I think maybe he brought the man with him. He might have thought that if he showed up, I’d escape out another door, and the man could grab me. Since that didn’t happen, maybe he told him to wait and watch, in case I left.”

“I don’t understand,” Lilah said. “Why is Mr. Dearborn so intent on your returning? Why is he pretending you married Peter?”

“Maybe he’s not pretending.” Sabrina sat down on the window seat, tugging her friend down to sit with her. “What if I really am married to Peter?” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring she had brought with her, holding it out on her palm. “I meant to ask you about this earlier, but in all the uproar, I forgot. Do you recognize it? Is this something you’ve seen me wear before?”

Lilah plucked it from Sabrina’s palm, holding it closer to the light coming through the window. “No...” She frowned, turning it over in her fingers. “I don’t recall ever seeing this. But that’s no proof of anything, really.”

“It looks very like a wedding ring, and it must be important to me. It’s one of the few things I brought with me.”

“Yes, it does look like a wedding ring, but it doesn’t have to be one. Or perhaps it’s a keepsake, like your mother’s wedding ring.”

“Do you remember my mother wearing it?”

“No, but, really, Sabrina, I can’t remember your mother’s jewelry. I only visited on occasion, and it’s been years. Besides, it could have been your grandmother’s.”

“Or it could be the obvious—it’s a wedding ring, and I have it because I was wearing it when I escaped.”

“Still, it’s not proof you are married.”

“But it’s such a bold lie for Dearborn to tell. What if I had suddenly recalled everything? I’d know it wasn’t true.”

“Saying you had run mad was a bold thing, too. Any number of people know that you don’t have episodes of insanity.”

“The Morelands wouldn’t. Mr. Dearborn didn’t know that you were here or that you had told us about my past. All he needed was for them to believe it long enough to get me out of their grasp and whisk me home, where they could keep me locked up. Besides, being married to Peter is a necessary part of their plan. I don’t think he would have left that undone.”

“What’s their plan?”

“I don’t know, but clearly it requires Mr. Dearborn having control over me. I presume he must want control of my money, and that will end in only two more weeks. The only way to ensure that he would keep that power is if I’m married to one of them. No one would question my husband and his father handling my estate.”

“But that doesn’t necessarily mean you have already had the ceremony. Maybe he just wants to get you alone and convince you to do it. Force you, if he has to.”

“Yes, but...” Sabrina drew a breath. “I had a dream last night. It was very hazy. Not just that the dream is now hazy to me—everything was vague and unclear in the nightmare, as well. That was part of the reason it was so frightening. I felt lost and so confused. I was groggy and hot and nauseous. And I was standing with Peter, beside him, even leaning against him.”

“It would only be natural to dream about him when you’d just seen him.”

“Yes, that’s what I told myself. But it nagged at me, and a while ago, as I was looking through that screen at Peter, I felt it all over again. I saw it. I felt those sensations—the heat and dizziness. It was as if I was remembering, not the dream, but the scene itself. I remembered things that I don’t think were in my dream.”

“Like what?” Lilah’s forehead creased with worry.

“There was another man there.”

“Mr. Dearborn?”

“No, I—I don’t think so. I can’t picture him clearly. I know I must really sound mad now! Everything in the scene is very hazy, and I feel...the way I do when I’m sick. Running a fever. Everything is remote and distorted and...wrong somehow. I’m not explaining this well.”