Marriage with a Proper Stranger. Karyn GerrardЧитать онлайн книгу.
to be gone from his house. Even ten thousand would set me up in a small cottage far from here; the income from the settlement would be enough for me to live on for many years, surely.” She gave him a shaky smile. “See? Independence. Life on my terms.”
Riordan crossed his arms. “You wouldn’t be able to afford a place much bigger than this. Look about. My cottage is probably not as large as your bedchambers. If we agree to move forward with this, you will have to live here with me in these close quarters. We’d have to make at least some effort to show we’re married.”
The look of horrified surprise on her lovely face amused him. “Here? With you? But I thought to take rooms at the inn in town until we can apply for an annulment.”
“It’s not feasible, Sabrina. Can you afford such an expense? I cannot. Besides, if we’re living apart from the beginning, it will state to the court that we made no attempt to make the marriage work. It could go against us. Speaking of annulments, I’ve explained what would have to be done to dissolve the marriage. None of those options are ideal for either of us. I’ve written a solicitor friend of mine in London.”
Sabrina gasped.
“Easy, I did not mention any names, merely asked hypothetical questions regarding possible options. I expect a reply any day. In the meantime, refresh my memory: when are you supposed to meet with Sutherhorne?”
“Tuesday next. Why?” Her eyebrow arched in question.
“Does the marquess live nearby or in London?” Riordan asked.
“I believe he is in London at the moment. I assume he attends parliament.”
Riordan stood and held out his hand. Hesitating, she finally slipped her gloved hand in his. He assisted her to her feet and took a step closer. She blinked rapidly and her entire body tensed. As he lifted her hand to his mouth, he kept his gaze firm on her. The enticing scent of citrus invaded his nostrils. Her nearness made him aware of her as a woman. An astonishing development.
Brushing his lips across her knuckles, he moved his thumb under the glove and found her pulse. The touch of her bare skin caused his heart to stutter and blood to rush to his nether regions. In response to him caressing her wrist, her pulse quickened. She was affected by his touch. Gratifying, yet alarm bells sounded in his fevered mind. If they steamed ahead with this harebrained scheme, they would be under the same roof. Temptation incarnate.
The overwhelming need to pull her close and kiss her senseless brought him up quick. His fingertips leisurely skimmed across her upturned palm. She didn’t pull her hand away. In response, he caressed the tips of her fingers with his, and the heat between them seared, even through her glove.
Riordan stepped away. “Go home, Sabrina.” His voice was hoarse. “Meet me at the school Monday during luncheon break. I’ll have more information. And my answer. Until then, act as though you’re meeting Sutherhorne.”
“I do not understand….”
“Go now,” he rasped. Before I pull you into my embrace. Before I touch you all over.
She must have read the raw desire on his face, for she pulled up her hood and fled through the front door without looking back.
Slowly, he walked toward the door and closed it, sliding the bolt. He rested his hand flat against the door and waited until his racing heart and rampant arousal calmed. What in hell was happening here? Obviously he’d taken leave of his senses if he was even considering this madness.
Her courageous words stirred him. The tragic look in her eyes moved him. Mix in the fact that he found her appealing and this could be a recipe for disaster. With a sigh, he headed toward the kitchen and his burnt meat pie. Could he keep his heart from getting singed?
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