Page 34 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

“Are you well, my lady? You look pale,” Mary whispered.

Sabrina glanced at Riordan, who stood close to Mr. Chambers. They were deep in conversation and examining the papers. Riordan picked up the pen as Sabrina turned to face Mary. “I’ll be fine. Last minute doubts. Let us get this over with.”

Within minutes they were strolling down the street to the registrar’s office. Riordan escorted Sabrina; Mr. Chambers walked beside Mary. Once they entered the office and introductions were done, the registrar wasted no time. The words were brief, spoken officiously. They exchanged vows they had no intention of keeping. “Solemnly declare…no lawful impediment…take as your wedded husband…”

It passed in a blur. Before she knew it, Riordan had taken her hand. “I promise to care for you above all others, to give you my love and friendship, support and comfort, and to respect and cherish you throughout our lives together.” The words brought her up sharp, startling her out of the haze she’d been in. Were these words part of the civil ceremony? Why did they make her heart ache with longing?

She blinked, more than once, not knowing what to do or say. Everyone looked at her, waiting for a response. “I…promise to care for you above…” Her voice died. She couldn’t remember the rest. Her mind drew a complete blank.

“All others,” Riordan gently encouraged.

Sabrina made the mistake of gazing into his striking face. Oh. No man had ever looked at her with such affection before. It was as if he meant the words—no, he acted the part of the eager groom, nothing else. “All others…to give you my…my…”

“Love and friendship,” he replied, his voice soft and husky.

This was far more intense than she’d imagined it would be. The air was thick with emotion. With a determined effort, she quickly recited the rest of the words without hesitating. The registrar declared them married.

Then Riordan cupped her face, his thumbs caressed her cheeks. My heavens, was he going to kiss her? He leaned in close. “I thought a kiss was not part of the civil ceremony?” she whispered.

He angled his head, a small smile curved about his mouth. “It’s part of this one.” He captured her lips with a bracing, wild kiss she did not expect. Not possessive, but bold and confident, passionate, and she gasped from the pleasurable shock of it. As she gasped, Riordan deftly slipped his tongue into her mouth and swept it about, tasting her, causing her legs to tremble.

It was over. The registrar offered his congratulations. “My best wishes, Mr. Black. My lady.” The voices grew fainter as the room began to spin. No, she would not swoon. She reached out, looking to grab something to steady herself. Riordan slipped his arm about her waist and pulled her close. His enticing scent of lime and bergamot allowed her to focus.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured close to her ear. His warm breath fanned her neck, causing the hairs at her nape to stand upright.

That’s what worried her. Had she stupidly placed herself in the possession of yet another man? A lump formed in her throat. Only this could be the one man she did not want to escape, and the prospect frightened as much as it excited her.

She was married. To a handsome man who stood as the ideal hero of her youthful dreams. How on earth would she be able to protect her heart?

Chapter 14

It had been a long day, with the ceremony, the shopping, and the return trip by mail coach. Luckily, Riordan had arranged for Farmer Walsh, his student Charlie’s father and the farmer who’d boarded his gelding, Grayson, to meet them at the coach stop and escort them home. During the journey the decision was made to escort Mary to the inn first, which meant Sabrina would see to her own preparations for the evening.

Once they arrived at the cottage and the luggage and shopping purchases were unloaded from the wagon, Riordan thanked Farmer Walsh profusely, then informed the man he’d just been married. Seeing that Walsh had raised his heavy brows at the prospect of Sabrina staying at his cottage, he’d had no choice but to explain. Though he’d asked for the farmer’s discretion, he had no doubt it would be all over the district before tomorrow afternoon.

Riordan watched the wagon disappear into the darkness, then turned and entered the cottage. Sabrina was nowhere to be found. Seeing the place was small and cramped, there weren’t many places she could hide. He poked his head in the bedroom and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands tightly clasped and resting in her lap.

“Tired?” he asked, giving her a smile.

“Yes…and no. I am rather wound up.”

He understood completely. “I’m about to make tea. Would you care for a cup? I see Mrs. Ingersoll delivered beefsteak sandwiches earlier today. Come and join me, Sabrina.”

“I thought to take a tray here, in this…room.”

And, in point of fact, hide. Riordan wasn’t going to have it. “First, I don’t own a tray. Second, Mary is not here to bring it in to you even if I did. I will not act the footman. Wouldn’t know how to go about it, at any rate.” He chuckled. “But I can make tea, and will do so…if you come and sit at the table with me.”

A sigh escaped her as she laid her hand flat on the quilt. “The bed is quite comfortable.” He would miss his feather mattress, only had it three weeks. “Perhaps I should sleep in the parlor.”

“Nonsense. What kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed you to sleep on the chaise longue? This bedroom is yours…while you’re here. Make yourself at home.”

She gave him a brief but tremulous smile. “You are kind.”

Opening the door wider, he held out his hand. “Let us have a bite to eat. Together.”

Nodding, she stood and walked toward him, even slipped her hand in his. He was pleased that she’d done it without hesitating; he reveled in the warmth of her touch. He escorted her to the small wooden table and pulled out a chair for her to sit. Then he moved to the kitchen and busily prepared a light meal. After bringing the teacups and saucers to the table, along with the bowl of sugar, he laid the sandwiches on a small platter with pieces of cheese and pickle. Lastly, he brought out the teapot and a pitcher of milk. “Will you pour?” he asked.

Sabrina nodded, giving him one of her brief smiles. He sat opposite. “How wonderful that you can make tea.”