Page 35 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

“It has been an exercise in failure and triumph. I’ve also learned to fry eggs and ham. Not much else, I’m afraid. It is why Mrs. Ingersoll has been employed by the board—to ensure I do not starve. Now she will cook for two. Mostly meat pies and stews, I hope you don’t mind.”

She nibbled on a wedge of sandwich. “Not at all. I know nothing of the kitchen.”

“I do not expect you to learn,” he teased. “I will show you how to use the pump so you can at least fetch water should you need it. Also, there is an outdoor privy, and a chamber pot under the bed. As far as bathing, there is a large copper tub. It’s stored outside in the lean-to. Simply tell me what day you wish to use it, and I will bring it inside before I depart for school.”

Sabrina sipped her tea. “Good heavens, such a personal conversation.”

Riordan laid two wedges, cheese, and pickle on his small plate. “Best to get it out of the way, as it is all part and parcel of sharing a living area.”

She peered at him over the rim of her cup. “And when will you be taking a bath?”

The air between them snapped with sensual energy. “Well, I would imagine it would be in the evenings. You will have to stay in your room. Unless…” He gave her as sultry a smile as he could muster. “You wish to assist me, scrub my back and the like.”

He waited for the look of horror. A rebuke for his bold forwardness. Sabrina placed her cup on the saucer. “I’m sure Mary would be thrilled to help you scrub all your bits, including your back.”

Riordan laughed. “Well done, my lady. Very amusing.” He placed a piece of cheese in his mouth and swallowed. “You recognized the teasing and replied in kind. A good sign.”

She nodded. “It is a good sign.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I must ask; do you attend church services?” Riordan asked.

“Not as a rule. The earl did, at Christmas and Easter, and I accompanied him.”

“Ah. I’m not a steady churchgoer myself; however, I did make a compact with the vicar when I accepted the position of schoolmaster.”

“Oh? What kind?” She looked at him with genuine interest. How wonderful to have someone to converse with in his lonely cottage. It lessened the homesickness. Someone to tease. A lovely woman to gaze at and admire. And desire.

“The school’s curriculum caused a good deal of discussion in many quarters. As you can imagine, the vicar pushed for one based in religious studies. I proposed we extend Sunday school instead. The vicar—who, I found, is a shrewd negotiator—agreed, so long as I attend services twice a month, to show a good example for my students. Another of his demands was that school on Sunday must be three and one half hours in duration.”

Sabrina snickered. “How shrewd.”

“I must attend tomorrow, and I believe it best you accompany me.”

Her slight smile disappeared. “I think not. It’s best I stay cloistered away until we are able to obtain the annulment.”

Unbelievable. “Sabrina, I already told Farmer Walsh you’re my bride.”

Her eyes widened. “Why would you do such a thing?” Annoyance hovered at the surface of her voice.

“The farmer witnessed you carrying your luggage into my cabin. Imagine the scandal. Besides, this is a small town; you will be seen. You cannot hide in this place for three months, it is not feasible.”

Her full, lower lip thrust out in an attractive pout. “Well, I had hoped to attempt it, at least.”

Riordan took a sip of tea. “Best to appear together and show a brave front. Granted, the town will be abuzz, but they will settle down soon enough. We will be forgotten, and then we will quietly obtain the annulment.” Taking a bite of the sandwich, he chewed and swallowed. “I have to visit Grayson tomorrow. He needs a long run.”

“Who is Grayson?”

“My gelding. There is no proper place to keep him here at my cottage, so he boards with Farmer Walsh. When I can spare a moment, I take him out. Exercise for the both of us. Usually on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Do you have many horses at your family home?” Sabrina asked.

It annoyed him to have to hesitate and try to figure out how to answer her questions without blatantly lying or exposing his identity. “A few. Growing up there was always a dog and cat underfoot as well. Did you have any pets?” Best to steer the conversation toward her.

A look of sadness covered her pretty features. “I was never allowed to have a pet of any kind. My father was adamant. The earl would not allow it either.” She paused. “Once I asked for a kitten. One of my friends offered one, as her cat had given birth. My father replied that if I brought the mangy feline home, he would wring its neck and toss it outside for the wild animals to feast on.” She looked away. “I was ten years old.”

Anger tore through Riordan. “Have I told you how much I despise your miserable father?”

“He does not inspire warmth, to be sure,” she answered, her voice quiet.