Page 12 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

Damn it. He sprinted to the kitchen and, using a tea towel, reached into the oven for his meat pie. The edges of the crust had started to burn, but the rest was salvageable. Caught up in her narrative, he’d forgotten about his meal. Placing the dish on the counter, he rolled down his sleeves and buttoned the cuffs. He should put on a jacket, but to hell with it.

Riordan returned to the small parlor. “Merely my dinner. I caught it before serious damage was done.”

She stood. “I should leave and allow you to eat….”

“It will keep. Please, sit and continue.” As she did, he clasped the chair from the dining table and set it near her, but not close enough to crowd her.

“I spoke with my father; he will meet with you to discuss a possible marriage. That is, if you have decided to participate in my mad scheme.” She frowned. “You were correct at the first; I’m committing fraud, but I do not care. My father owes me for my miserable childhood and miserable marriage. And if it sounds like a rationalization for the underhanded plan I’m about to embark on, I can live with the consequences. What I cannot live with any longer is not being in control of my life. I am taking the reins.”

Sabrina spoke with courage and determination. On the whole, she was perpetrating a fraudulent plot. But her reasons smacked of truth, with a smattering of revenge. Did he wish to be part of it? “Let us say I meet with the baron. He could still insist that you marry the marquess regardless.”

Her lower lip thrust out. “Yes. He could. My father said, ‘You can march every eligible male before me from a hundred mile radius; the fact remains, I would have to approve of the match and the man would have to meet the terms.’ I have no idea what he means. He would not tell me the amount of the settlement.”

“How much did he pay the earl?” Riordan asked.

“I’m not sure, as Pepperdon would never speak of his negotiations with my father. He did mention a sum of fifteen thousand pounds once, saying I was not worth the amount. It was meant as an insult; he often claimed I was useless and worth nothing.”

He frowned. The earl had been a miserable cur. And hell, was her father that well-off? “Do you believe he would offer as much again?”

“Perhaps. He is eager for me 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?