Page 19 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

“Withdraw? How? Let me guess: I am better off not knowing.” Huffing in frustration, she pulled off her gloves and laid them on her lap. Oh, bother, it was unconscionably hot in here. It was either the woodstove or Riordan’s compelling presence. Sabrina would lay bets on the latter.

“For the moment, you are better off,” he replied. “I promise I will fill you in on the particulars later. I have a question for you: what will you do with your maid?”

Sabrina’s brows furrowed and her heart dropped clear to her toes. “What do you mean?” she rasped.

Riordan arched an eyebrow. “You have seen the cottage. There is no room for a maid. I brought furniture from my visit home, so there is even less room. There is a chaise longue in the parlor I will sleep on.”

“Well, Mary can stay in the main bedroom with me,” she said firmly. Sabrina could not believe he was proposing this.

He chuckled softly. “There is only one bedroom and the bed is not large enough.”

Her first instinct was to rail and cry, throw a tantrum only a baron’s daughter and widow to an earl could possibly conjure up. She had been quite adept at them until her father beat the impulse out of her. “Mr. Black—Riordan—I cannot be parted from her. I rely on her.” Her voice trembled on the last word. In a firmer, cooler voice, she said, “I will not be without my maid.”

Riordan arched an eyebrow. “Of course. Silly of me. However will you survive?”

Was he mocking her? The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, but his expression was not cruel. She had no idea how to respond to this man, and it flummoxed her.

“She was with me throughout the entirety of my horrific marriage to Pepperdon. Mary was there for me, comforting me, especially when he…never mind.” Blast it, she would not cry. “I know I’m not supposed to use her first name, but she is more than a lady’s maid. She is my friend. Indeed, my only friend. Mary is…all I have.” Now she’d revealed too much, and sounded pathetic to boot.

Riordan reached across the desk and gently clasped her hand, causing her to gasp in surprise. A slight touch as this should not be sending such strange sensations through her body. But it did. Could this be arousal? She had no idea. “Sabrina, I was teasing you, do not distress. I would not separate you from your friend.”

Her life had become emotionally barren, and because of that she could not even recognize an innocent, teasing remark. His thumb brushed the top of her hand and a sigh escaped her lips even though she’d tried to stem it. The pad of his thumb was calloused, no doubt from gripping a pen for hours on end. The feel of it made her skin prickle with heated awareness.

“Call Mary into the room. We will find a solution.” His smile was warm, encouraging.

As she called for her maid, he slowly released her hand, his fingers trailing hers. Oh, he was adept at that. Making an innocent touch into…more. Her senses had never been this heightened, nor had she been so aware of a man’s masculinity.

“Ah, Miss Tuttle. Can I ask you what the baron has been paying you under his employ this past year?” Riordan asked.

Mary looked to Sabrina, biting her lower lip. “Well, sir, he paid me five pounds when we first arrived and said it was my wages for the year. If I dared complain or mention it to her ladyship, he claimed he would turn me out without a reference.”

“What a miserable skinflint!” Sabrina cried. “Pepperdon may have been a lot of things, but at least he paid you a decent wage of twenty-five pounds per annum.” Sabrina took a calming breath. “You should have told me.”

Mary shook her head. “You had enough to deal with, my lady. I didn’t want to be the cause of a row with the baron. Not with his vile temper.”

“Here is the conundrum, Miss Tuttle: not only is the cottage I live in barely room enough for two, I cannot afford to pay you twenty-five pounds per annum. Not even for three months. I assume you know of what I speak? The arranged and temporary marriage?” Riordan asked.

Mary nodded. “I do, sir. May I say I find you extremely kind and generous for doing this for my lady?”

“Thank you. Now, with regards to your employment…” Sabrina began to sputter, trying to form words, but Riordan kept on speaking, not paying her any mind at all. “I may be able to arrange something. You may have to stay in town, but it is less than a mile walk from the cottage. You can manage it, I’m sure?”

Mary smiled. “I can, sir.”

“Excellent. Now, Lady Pepperdon, I assume you will pay Miss Tuttle out of your settlement?”

Sabrina calmed, admiring the way Riordan took charge. He exuded such confidence, which she sadly lacked in her past but now worked toward regaining. “Yes, of course.”

“Excellent. Miss Tuttle, how I envision this is you may work part of the time with her ladyship, and part of your day you may be required to help out at the inn to pay for the room. Do you have any objections?”

Mary shook her head. “Not at all, sir. After the first Lady Pepperdon passed away, I became a parlor maid. Cleaning and the like will be no hardship. I will earn my keep.”

“Good. I will make the arrangements when school dismisses later this afternoon. I would suggest you both pack only the essentials, and do it immediately. This will all fall into place rather quickly, and a hasty departure may be imminent.”

Mary gave a brisk nod. “Leave it with me, sir. We’ll be ready.”

Riordan nodded, then swung his gaze to Sabrina. “Once this plan goes into motion, we will make our way to London. Miss Tuttle will accompany us. We will have to go by mail coach, as the nearby train route is still under construction. William is making the arrangements; I only need give him a firm date.”

Sabrina stood. “Thank you, again.” She held out her hand. With no glove. Riordan stood and took it, then bowed briefly. He only touched her for mere seconds, but her body responded once again. Such fluttering over a mere brush of the fingers. She would have to learn to tame her response and ignore the emotions she had long buried—or so she kept telling herself.