Page 65 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

Riordan was off Grayson before the horse came to a full stop, with Mr. Seward right behind him. The investigator stopped and nodded toward a man standing by the door. “Top floor, Mr. Seward. Room fourteen. He’s not alone; I heard voices. Another man and a woman. The man arrived five minutes past.”

What luck they were able to locate the marquess. What if the baron hadn’t stopped at an inn, but delivered Sabrina directly and the marquess had left the city before they’d even arrived? Riordan vaulted the stairs two at time. The stairway was dark and narrow and creaked loudly under his boots; no doubt they could hear their approach.

Mr. Seward and Garrett were directly behind Riordan. Garrett had his gun drawn, a Colt Paterson revolver from America. With a swift kick, Riordan tore the flimsy wooden door from its hinges. He entered the room, his frantic gaze locking on Sabrina, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her expression was shuttered, but he could read the fear in her beautiful eyes.

Garrett raised his revolver and pulled back on the hammer. Mr. Seward stood on the other side of Riordan, holding a similar weapon.

“Ah. What perfect timing. Sabrina, meet Riordan Wollstonecraft,” Sutherhorne sneered. The look of shock on her face tore at Riordan’s heart. Damn it all, he should have told her everything before this. Last night especially. “You did not know of his true identity? How interesting. I only found out myself two days ago, when I opened an investigation into the men who’d bodily manhandled and threatened me at the Carrbury Inn.” The marquess’s eyes narrowed as he glared at both he and Garrett.

The viscount and the earl entered the room. Both of them held unsheathed swords from their Malacca walking sticks. “And here is the rest of the venerable clan,” Sutherhorne mocked. “On a rescue mission, I assume?”

“Riordan?” Sabrina whispered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Is this true? Black is not your name?”

“Sabrina, I can explain—”

Sutherhorne grabbed Sabrina’s arm and brought her none too gently to her feet. She struggled under his grip, her face stricken. “No explanations are necessary. I’ve made my acquisition, and you will allow us to leave. I was not going to bother with an annulment, merely keep her as my mistress. But I believe we’d best keep this above board. She was promised to me. Your so-called marriage is forfeit. I will ensure any court will rule in my favor.”

“Not bloody likely,” the earl hissed dangerously. “You don’t have a legal foot to stand on.”

“Legal? We will call for the Metropolitan Police and have you both arrested. Mistress? Your slave, is more like it. Women are not chattel to be bartered, sold, or held and used against their will,” Riordan yelled. “To hell with being civilized, I’m going to beat you senseless.” He vaulted forward, but Mr. Seward grasped his arm. Sutherhorne shrank back, no doubt reading the murderous intent in Riordan’s expression.

Julian pressed the tip of his sword against the baron’s heart. “Give the satchel to the marquess, Durning. The transaction has been cancelled.”

“No. I need this money. I’ll be ruined.” He clasped the satchel closer. “There is thirty thousand pounds in here.”

Sutherhorne dragged Sabrina toward the door, but she managed to wriggle out of his grip. “If you think I will submit to this, you are sadly mistaken. All of you.” She faced Sutherhorne, her look determined. “I’m not a green girl any longer. I will not cower in fear. I will fight every step of the way and make your life a misery. You will not own any part of me…ever.”

Is it any wonder he loved her? Seeing her standing there, defiant, he fell more in love. How could he not? She was magnificent.

Sabrina turned her resolute gaze to Riordan. “No man shall ever own me.”

Ominous words. And directed at him. Perhaps she would feel differently once he explained his logical reasoning for lying. But he could hardly explain himself here. Because of his male arrogance, believing he could protect her from all harm and hurt, he hadn’t protected her at all.

Riordan stepped forward. “This repulsive episode is at an end. Baron, give up the satchel or blood will be shed this day.”

Durning let the satchel fall to the floor. The container fell open, and numerous notes and gold guineas spread across the dusty wood floor. Garrett whistled at the sight.

“Sutherhorne, retrieve your money. Relinquish all claims on Sabrina. Say it,” Riordan barked. His grandfather placed the point of his blade against Sutherhorne’s chest.

“I relinquish all claims on Lady Pepperdon.”

“Her name is Sabrina Black. Say her name,” Riordan growled.

“Sabrina Black, then. Let her be your problem.” The marquess’s cold, gray eyes held murderous intent. “I shall not forget the humiliation I have borne. Nor shall I forget those behind it.” His thunderous look slid from Riordan and landed on Garrett. In a deadly tone so low Riordan could hardly hear it, Sutherhorne said, “This is far from over.” Did he threaten Garrett? The entire family?

Edwin Seward gently grasped Sabrina’s arm. “I suggest, gentlemen, we take our leave.”

Durning scrambled to gather the wayward money and scoop it into the satchel.

“Hand it over to me, Durning,” Sutherhorne commanded.

“I cannot go to debtor’s prison,” the baron sniveled.

“You shall,” Riordan yelled. “Or this entire incident will be made public. And you will be going to Newgate Prison instead.”

The men backed out of the room and quickly made their way downstairs. Sabrina was trembling. “But…what about Sutherhorne?” she asked.

The earl shook his head. “He is a marquess, above us all, and he has Prince Albert’s ear. He is untouchable, and he knows it. Peers are rarely arrested and prosecuted for crimes. It’s far from fair, but unfortunately it’s how Society functions. The rich and powerful rule, profit, and escape justice.”