Marriage with a Proper Stranger. Karyn GerrardЧитать онлайн книгу.
but none would have you,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that his words landed across her heart like slices from a blade. “It is the doddering old fools, or you make your own way in the world.”
My own way? Sabrina didn’t have a blessed clue how to go about it. Regardless of her unhappiness growing up and during her marriage, she wanted for nothing. Why, she never had to do anything for herself, especially when married to the earl since he was rich beyond measure. There were maids and footmen aplenty to do her bidding. In truth, she liked being well-off, and reveled in the comfort and luxury. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away and swallowed hard. Be damned if she would show the baron any reaction.
“Why not allow me to meet men close to my own age? At least give me the chance before shuffling me off to another aged stranger. We will both be coming out of mourning. We can attend social functions together and assess the market—”
Her father held up his hand. “No, Daughter. I want you gone from this house before I narrow in on my selection.”
Sabrina clenched her teeth. “I am of age, a widow. I don’t have to obey you in this.”
The baron shrugged. “Quite true. Then pack what you came with and leave by the end of the week.”
“You would turn out your own daughter?” Her voice quivered on the last couple of words. There was no hiding her distress now.
He leaned forward, his expression hardened. “If you had been a boy, as you should have been, there would be no need for this discussion at all. Daughters are completely useless, except to give other men a son.”
Sabrina stood as a potent roll of anger moved through her. She slammed the knife on the table. “Yes, a calamity for both of us.”
“I will have your answer at breakfast the day after tomorrow.” Picking up the paper, he sat up straight and continued to read, effectively ignoring her.
She indulged in a bout of self-pity for a brief moment. The baron had never loved her. No one had ever loved her. Sabrina stared at her father. Why was he apathetic and unfeeling? Because she wasn’t a son? Or was he merely born this way? Or both? From what she’d observed, he treated everyone with cold disdain, from the lowest of servants to his fellow peers. Hateful man. She swept from the room and made her way upstairs, determined with every step to thwart her father’s miserable plan.
She would find a husband. A man with all his teeth, who did not have one foot in the grave. Surely there must be an unmarried male person in the vicinity willing to take her on.
A plan began to form in her mind. Her father was anxious to be rid of her. For that fact alone, he would be willing to make a monetary settlement to her husband-to-be. All Sabrina had to do was locate an honest man with a modicum of honor to agree to her scheme.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. She must make haste. Seven days was hardly enough time to find such a man. She’d not been to town in months, had not lived in this area for eleven years. She had no earthly idea what type of man she would find.
The middle class swelled in numbers with each passing year. There were always those in trade or public service. A professional of some sort. A solicitor. A doctor. Besides, this arrangement would not be for a lifetime.
“Mary,” she called out to her maid as she entered her bedchamber. “Lay out my dark green walking dress. I am heading to town.”
* * * *
Lord, how Sabrina wished she’d used the carriage. The mile walk proved how soft and lazy she’d become the past several years. She could send Mary back to the estate and have her bring the carriage for her return trip. The hot late summer sun caused beads of perspiration to trail along the valley of her spine. Tendrils of hair came loose from her upswept style, sticking to her flushed cheeks.
Emerging through a cluster of junipers, Sabrina spotted a fair-sized structure that appeared to be in a state of renovation. A wooden bench along the wall caught her eye. Thank God she could rest for a moment and catch her breath. Funny, she didn’t remember this building being here before.
“Mary, let us sit.” She motioned to the bench.
“Are you well, my lady? You’re red in the face and short of breath,” her maid asked, worry etched into her brow.
“I believe once we rest, I will send you for the carriage in order for us to continue our journey. I’m more fatigued than I thought I would be.” Sabrina sat and exhaled in relief, resting her head against the wall. Voices drifted out from the building and caught her attention. The window was open, and one voice stood out from the rest. Male, deep, melodic—and mesmerizing.
“It does not matter what you plan to do with your life. Do you wish to be a farmer like your father? Read books. Learn all you can about agriculture, animal husbandry, and excel at your chosen profession. But never stop reading; learn all you can about everyone and everything, if not to learn, then to allow your imagination to fly. How many remember what the imagination is?” Multiple overlapping and enthusiastic replies drifted from the window, drawing her attention even further.
“Good. With the imagination you can see ancient Egypt, the building of the Sphinx, construction of the pyramids, and adorn yourself with pharaoh’s gold. Or you may visit what Shakespeare called—”
“Was his name William?” a child’s voice called out.
“Yes. Correct. William Shakespeare called the imagination the ‘undiscovered country.’ What did he mean by it? Immerse yourself in another world. Escape. For what is imagination? The ability to form a picture in your mind of that which you have never experienced.”
Sabrina was completely enthralled, not only by the man’s enthusiasm, but by his gentle tone.
“Mr. Black, my da can’t afford to buy books,” a young lad said.
“Ah. That is why we will be starting a library right here in our schoolroom. Does anyone know what a library is?”
“A place you borrow books?” a girl answered.
“Exactly, Becky. Well done. I have brought five books to start us off, and hopefully once we get the word out, we will garner donations to permit the library to grow and flourish. It will be a school library. See the empty bookcase against the far wall? We’ll start there. You will sign out a book with the promise to return it in two weeks.”
A harmony of happy young voices all talked at once. Curious, Sabrina stood and turned toward the window, but the top of her head barely reached the sill. Standing on the bench would be too obvious. Instead, she stood on the tips of her toes. Quite a few children of various ages were sitting at tables, their bright faces all riveted to the front of the room. Unfortunately, from her angle, she could not see the honey-voiced schoolmaster who held her spellbound.
She imagined him middle-aged, wearing spectacles, with a receding hairline and a prominent nose. A kindly gentleman, educated, decent. One who might listen to her scheme?
“The first book is Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Who shall be the first to borrow it?”
The children all called out, save one boy sitting near the window. He looked down at his hands. “James? Would you not like to read this book?” the schoolmaster asked in a gracious tone. Blast, she still couldn’t see the man.
“I don’t read good, sir,” the boy replied in a quiet voice.
“Come here.”
The boy disappeared from her line of sight. Sabrina was wholly captivated by the doings in the room. The schoolmaster had complete control of the children, not with strict discipline and the threat of a caning, but with compassion, respect, and eagerness.
“Improving your reading skills is accomplished with plenty of practice. I am here to assist you. We will all help you, will we not, class?” the schoolmaster asked.
The children all nodded and answered yes.
“Shall we allow James to