Page 72 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

Nodding, Mary nibbled thoughtfully on her biscuit. “Another ceremony will be needed.”

A long, frustrating sigh left her. “I acted like such a ninny earlier today. Riordan walked into the room and I became overwhelmed by his words, his very presence. Even being under the same roof as him drives me to distraction.”

Mary laughed. “Any of those men would drive a woman to distraction. You’ve met his grandfather? Good Lord, what a fine specimen of a mature man. How old is he?”

For the first time in the past forty-eight hours, Sabrina smiled. “Why, Mary! Does the earl interest you?”

Mary cleared her throat. “He’s fascinating to be sure, and handsome, with all that white hair and those large, expressive blue eyes.”

“Helen, the maid who attended me, said that the earl is sixty-four, the viscount forty-five, and Garrett thirty-two. Riordan and his paternal twin, Aidan, are twenty-six.”

“Twin? And where is he during all this?” Mary asked.

“He is away, apparently.” Sabrina stared out the large window in front of her. “I do love Riordan most desperately, but I want to be sure of my decision.”

“You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. No one will force you to decide anything until you are good and ready. I’ll stand guard and keep everyone away until you are.”

Sabrina impulsively hugged Mary tight. It had been a terrible ordeal. Honestly, she would be a stubborn, arrogant fool to turn from love. From passion. From a friend turned lover. From a man who was honorable. Decent. Sensual and alluring.

They could have it all. Now to find the courage to grab life with both hands.

Make a choice.

* * * *

Three days had passed since he and Sabrina met in the guest room. Riordan had stayed well clear, as she’d requested. It had been utter agony. But now he’d been summoned, and the final verdict would be rendered. Whatever she decided, he would honor her wishes.

But first, she would have to hear him out. Even the lowliest criminal was given a chance to speak at trial. As he strode toward the Eaton residence, the cold November wind chilled him to his bones. He held firmly to the brim of his hat, lest it be carried away. The sky was overcast, which matched his mood, not only due to this situation with his wife, but upon hearing he’d been dismissed. It gave him little comfort to learn the blacksmith had acted on his own, and that the rest of the board had overridden him once the earl brought it to their attention.

He was reoffered the position, but his grandfather stated they would have to find another educator until the first week in January, as Riordan was dealing with a family emergency. If Riordan even wished to return to the post. Though initially angry for the curt dismissal, he did miss his students. It was not in him to quit, he should at least finish out the school year.

How Sabrina felt about it—or anything—was a complete mystery. When he first met her, she’d been aloof, self-contained, sad, and lonely. Slowly, he’d peeled away the layers of her protective shell to find a woman of deep feeling and passion. But trust did not come easily to her. He should have known this and told her the truth regardless. A major misstep. Because of it, she’d retreated behind her wall once again.

The incident with her evil father did not help matters. Damn it, it never crossed his mind Sutherhorne and Durning would perpetrate such a malevolent crime. The baron was in dire straits financially, but to sell Sabrina again? All Riordan wanted was to protect her, and he’d failed miserably.

Arriving at the Eaton home, he exhaled as he used the brass knocker. An attractive blonde woman answered the door.

“There is no mistaking you’re Tensbridge’s son.” She smiled warmly and held out her hand. “I’m Mrs. Alberta Eaton.”

Ah, the widow. He could see why his father’s interest had been sparked. Taking her hand, he bowed over it. “Riordan Wollstonecraft. A pleasure, Mrs. Eaton.”

“Do come in. I will take your coat and hat. Sabrina is through to the parlor. Help yourself to whiskey from the decanter. There is tea as well.”

He entered the room, where Sabrina stood by the window once again. No doubt she’d watched him all the way to the door. She turned, her expression impassive, her manner guarded and cool. He would need that whiskey. Glancing about the sparse room, he located it. Without hesitating, he strode to the sideboard, picked up the decanter, and motioned it toward her.

“No, thank you,” she replied tonelessly.

There was only a threadbare armchair and a sofa in the room, and Riordan would bet a sack full of gold guineas that she would sit in the chair, which was farthest away from him. Sure enough, she stepped toward the chair.

“Will you join me on the sofa?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle, as if approaching a skittish horse.

“Yes.” She sat on the edge, primly clasping her hands on her lap.

Riordan took a long swig before he joined her. “I regret that I failed to protect you from your father and Sutherhorne.”

She met his gaze. “You were not to know. How could you?”

“I found out from Durning there was no dowry. He took great delight in informing me of Sutherhorne and his pact with him. Garrett and I headed directly for the inn and made certain threats, demanding Sutherhorne leave town immediately. I fear we angered and humiliated him, hence it became the motivation for his plan of abduction.” He took another long drink, the burn sizzling down his throat. “I’m heartily sorry we set this in motion. Were you harmed in any way?”