Chapter Six

Sabrina swallowed. Heavens, when he looked at her like that, with his sensuous mouth curving upwards into that wicked smile and the laughter lines deepening around his blue eyes, all she wanted to do was to throw herself back into his arms and call the world well lost. Her insides were dissolving at the very idea of it. She tried to pull her wayward thoughts together. She needed to be sensible. The danger had not lessened; she was still standing on the edge of an abyss.

She reminded herself that she had been in far more dangerous situations than this. All those parties at Massyngham. Many men had propositioned her, and with the full blessing of her husband. Then she had had nothing but her wits to aid her. Here, once she was in the ballroom, there would be plenty of people to protect her from Lord John Callater.

But they cannot protect me from myself.

Sabrina pushed that thought aside. It was not helpful. She steadied her breathing, fought down her panic and summoned a smile.

‘In the ballroom.’ It was difficult, but she managed a creditably steady voice. ‘One last dance.’

‘One last dance,’ he agreed, holding out his arm. ‘Shall we?’

Jack escorted Sabrina back to the great hall, where they took their places on the dance floor. He felt physically battered and bruised by what had just happened. Or rather, by what had not just happened. The woman standing beside him was as confusing as the devil. One minute she was in his arms, soft and sighing, the next she was running away from him. And he had no idea if it was all a pretence.

He glanced down at her as they stood waiting for the music to begin. She looked calm enough. She even managed a friendly smile at the young lady watching from the edge of the dance floor. There was no sign of her earlier turmoil, whereas he was still feeling shaken and confused. Enough was enough, he decided. After this one final dance he would waste no more time thinking about the Wicked Widow.

Sabrina stood beside Jack, holding his hands and waiting for the music to start. She wished with all her heart that it could have been anything but a waltz. She saw the Duchess smiling at them from across the room, and she fought down the feelings of panic. Her head was spinning, her heart beating so hard she feared it would send her off balance. She must not allow that. She had waltzed hundreds of times before, and very successfully, so why should this be any different?

‘I can do this,’ she muttered to herself. ‘I only have to get through this dance and then I can leave. I shall tell Mama I am not feeling well and go home. The carriage can come back for them later, but I will not stay a moment longer.’

She thought it would be easier once they started dancing, and at first it was. They clasped hands, separated, turned, twirled and promenaded in perfect time. Gradually the music and familiar patterns began to soothe her ragged nerves. It was not long before she did not need to concentrate so much on the steps, but that left her wayward mind free to follow its own path, which was to her partner.

Her world narrowed until it was only Jack. The touch of his hand, his arm around her back, his eyes holding her gaze and sending messages she was afraid to believe. But oh, how she wanted to believe them! He was beguiling her with every look, every move, and she was responding, feeling the energy flowing between them. There was no future, no past, only the dance. The music filling her senses. She had never felt so alive. So in love.

As the final notes died away, they stared at one another. Sabrina was dimly aware of the people moving around them, dancers looking for partners, couples making their way to the supper room on the far side of the screens passage. It meant nothing. Jack held her whole attention. When he pulled her hand onto his arm and led her out of the ballroom, she did not resist. They passed through another arched opening, this time one that led to the inner hall, where the highly polished oak staircase wound its way up into the relative darkness of the upper floors.

Fewer candles burned here, and after the brilliance and bustle of the great hall, it was quiet and empty. Jack drew Sabrina into a shadowy corner, and without the slightest hesitation, she moved into his arms. He lowered his head and she felt his lips on hers, gentle, seductive. Arousing.

Jack’s pulse leapt as Sabrina responded to his kiss. He knew this was madness. Desire heated his blood and he felt dizzy, light-headed. As if he had been waiting for this moment these past six years. He breathed in the fresh, alluring scent of her as she clung to him, exulted as the luscious curves of her body pressed against him, turning his desire into a fever. He trailed kisses down her throat, felt the quickened pulse beneath his lips. She breathed his name softly, and he raised his head to look at her. She leaned back against his shoulder, her green eyes glowing with an inner fire as she gazed up at him.

‘What now?’ he whispered, his breathing hard, ragged.

‘Take me to bed, Jack.’

He hesitated, thinking he had misheard her. She smiled and cupped his cheek with one hand.

‘Take me to bed, my love.’

Jack closed his eyes, and something half groan, half growl escaped him.

He swept her up into his arms and Sabrina slipped her hands about his neck. She clung to him, her face resting against his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs and through the dim passages to his bedchamber. His heart was singing, he felt giddy with elation. It took precious moments to open the door to his room, but once inside he kicked it shut behind them. There was just enough light in the glowing embers of the fire for Jack to see his way to the bed.

He carefully laid his precious burden on the covers, but she clung on, dragging him down with her. Her kiss was eager, passionate, and Jack responded, tongues tangling, hands exploring. They began to undress one another, kissing and caressing the newly exposed flesh. It was as much as Jack could do not to tear at the fastenings, but at last they were almost naked.

Sabrina’s stockings were still in place, but much as he wanted to slow down, she was pulling him closer, and he gave in to the urgent desire coursing through his body. It was a swift, wondrous, joyous coupling that left them both exhausted. With a sigh, Jack gathered her to him.

This was not what he had intended. It had all been too quick. Too rushed. He had wanted to take it slowly, to kiss and caress every inch of her until she was crying with the sheer joy of it. He was not an inexperienced lover, but having her in his bed, her silky skin pressed against his body, he had been overwhelmed, unable to hold himself back and pleasure her as she deserved. Confound it, she would think him a damned novice in the bedroom!

Sabrina sighed and snuggled into him, already asleep. His arms tightened. No matter, he thought, kissing her hair. It was the first time, but it wouldn’t be the last. They would do this again. And again and again. There was no knowing the heights they could achieve. Together. He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

I have come home!

Sabrina felt a warm glow spreading through her. When she had woken and found herself in Jack’s arms, in his bed, she had a sense of the most profound happiness. There was also regret for the wasted years, but now, at last, she thought it would be possible to forget the past with all its pain and sadness.

A clock somewhere chimed the hour and beside her, Jack stirred.

‘It grows late,’ he murmured. ‘We should return to the ballroom, sweetheart, before we are missed.’

‘Yes.’ She sighed, dragging her thoughts back to the present. ‘I wish I could stay here with you until the sun comes up, but it will be time to leave soon.’ Her new-found happiness bubbled up in a laugh. ‘What a pity I am not a house guest. These things are always so much easier if one is staying.’

The words reminded Jack that she must be experienced in these things. Not that it mattered.

‘I suppose they must be.’ He kissed her before rolling away. ‘I will help you dress.’

He moved off to light the candles on the mantelshelf while Sabrina slipped off the bed. The fire had died to a sullen glow, and the room would soon be growing chill. He pulled on his pantaloons and picked up his shirt before going back to Sabrina. She was already wearing her chemise and was busy sorting the rest of her clothes into some sort of order.

‘Shall I help you with your stays?’ he asked, throwing his shirt over his head.

Before it could fall, she put her hands against his skin, her fingers tracing the contours of his chest, her touch arousing him as quickly as before. By heaven, she knew just how to please a man!

Sabrina had never explored a healthy, strong body in this way before. Her husband had been an old man and in failing health even when he had married her, and his was the only other male body she had ever seen naked. She wanted to tell Jack how new all this was to her, but she was afraid he would laugh at her inexperience. Instead, she slid her arms around him.

‘Let me enjoy you a little longer,’ she murmured, pressing her cheek against the soft linen of his shirt where it had fallen between them. It smelled of soap and sandalwood, and she breathed in deeply, storing up the memory.

A laugh rumbled in Jack’s chest.

‘Unless you want me to drag you back into bed this minute, you had best put on some clothes!’

She chuckled. ‘Tempting.’

He caught her face between his hands and kissed her before gently releasing himself from her embrace. ‘Away with you, baggage! Now, let us get you dressed.’

She held the stays in place and turned away from him, relishing the intimacy of this moment. Her skin tingled as she felt his fingers at her back, tightening the laces. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but now she felt shy, tongue-tied.

‘Thank you for tonight,’ she said at last. ‘For what you—we—did. It was...wonderful.’

She smiled to herself at the inadequacy of her words and barely noticed the slight hesitation before he responded.

‘Was it now?’

‘Yes, truly.’ She winced a little as he tugged hard at the laces. ‘I have never known such happiness in a man’s bed before.’

With her stays secure, she looked around to give him a quick, shy smile before pulling on her gown. Was this what it was like to be in love? To feel such joy, such pleasure in a man’s caresses? She was about to ask Jack but he spoke before she could frame the words.

‘You will need help with the buttons, I suppose.’

‘Yes, if you please.’ She turned away again, still glowing from the wondrous union they had shared. She could feel his fingers between her shoulder blades, brushing the skin close to the top of her gown. She said, ‘Now that we are friends again, I hope we can—’

‘Friends? I think not.’ He laughed. ‘Do not imagine a quick tumble on the covers makes any difference to us, madam.’

Sabrina frowned, confused by his cold tone. He went on.

‘In fact, it only proves to me that you are as wanton as your sobriquet. There.’ His fingers fastened the last button and he gave her a little push away from him. ‘I believe that is all you will require from me. You will find a comb and a looking glass on the washstand. I will leave you to tidy your hair before you come downstairs.’

And with that, he walked out of the room.

It was all Jack could do not to slam the bedchamber door behind him. How could he have been so crass as to fall for her wiles on the dance floor? He should have known better. And Sabrina—did the jade think him so naïve that he would fall for her lies about his performance in the bedroom? It had been pitifully rushed. He had taken her with all the speed and finesse of a callow youth, and she expected him to believe her when she said it was wonderful? Bah! She must have bedded a dozen lovers who performed better than that.

He ran quickly down the stairs, the music from the ballroom growing louder as he descended. He glanced into the dark corner where he had pulled her into his arms. By heaven, he had been so close to declaring himself tonight. When she had lain with him between the sheets, so eager for his kisses, he had been within an inch of admitting that he had never stopped loving her.

That was not his only intended folly. He had made up his mind that before they returned to the ballroom he would ask Sabrina to marry him. What better place to announce his betrothal than here, in the house of his best friends? A chill ran through him and he shuddered. Thank heavens he had come to his senses in time!

The musicians were playing another lively tune, and from the ballroom came the sounds of laughter and merriment. Jack stopped under the arch, allowing his eyes to adjust to the glare of the light from the chandeliers. She had broken his heart once; he was damned if he was going to let it happen again. He straightened his shoulders, summoned up a smile and stepped back into the crowded room.

Sabrina stood, immobile and alone in the silent bedchamber. This was not what she had envisioned. This was not what she had understood from Jack’s glowing looks, the tender way he had put her down on the bed. True, their lovemaking had been swift, but it had also been passionate, and for her it was the culmination of a dream she had kept locked deep in her heart for so many years.

A quick tumble on the covers, Jack had called it. She crossed her arms, feeling a sudden chill. Perhaps that was all it had been for him; she was too inexperienced to know. She had hoped to regain his regard, but all she had done was to earn his contempt.

Tears stung her eyes and she quickly blinked them back. She had been carried away with the passion of the moment and thought he had felt it, too. She had believed that even after all this time, there was a chance he might still love her, but she was wrong. Perhaps she had always been wrong, and he had never loved her. That was far more likely, was it not? Her memories were those of a young and very innocent debutante. Six years ago, Lord John Callater had already been a man of the town. In all probability he had only been amusing himself at her expense. It did not explain his anger, but then, men never liked to lose. She had been the one to end their courtship, such as it was. She had wounded his pride.

Sabrina went over to the washstand and looked in the mirror. The countenance staring back at her was pale, even in the warm glow of candlelight, and her hair, that had been so modestly drawn back in a simple knot, had come loose from its pins. Wispy tendrils framed her face and ragged curls hung about her shoulders.

You are as wanton as your sobriquet.

Jack’s words stung, but she refused to cry. She had survived far worse than this, even though it did not feel like that just now. She picked up the comb and set to work tidying her hair. One could not rekindle a cold fire and she had been foolish to try.

No one observing Lady Massyngham when she re-entered the great hall some half an hour later would have thought anything amiss. Indeed, the lady appeared to be in the best of spirits. She danced tirelessly for the remainder of the evening, chattering and laughing until the final notes of the very last dance faded away, when she flirted gently with her partner as he escorted her across to join Sir Anthony and Lady Kydd at the side of the room.

Jack saw it all. Despite his best efforts, he could not ignore the lady. His eyes were drawn to her time and again. He knew any attempt to retire before the very end of the ball would draw questions from his hosts, so he stayed and did his duty on the dance floor with any number of matrons. His fabled charm was so ingrained that it was little effort for him, although he would have preferred to be anywhere but in the same room as Sabrina, even, occasionally, in the same set on the dance floor.

He survived it tolerably well, but by the time the last of the guests had left or retired and he was alone in the drawing room with his hosts, his nerves were wound so tight that a chance remark from the duchess caused him to give a bark of hollow laughter.

‘You were pleased to see Lady Massyngham at Hartland, Pru?’

‘Why yes, of course.’

‘Even though she is the subject of so much scandal?’

‘Is she so very bad?’ countered the Duchess. ‘We see little of her in town, but I have met Sabrina several times when she is in Devon, and although she has a lively wit, I have never observed anything flirtatious in her nature.’

‘Because you are too good, too kind, to look for it!’ he retorted.

‘I, on the other hand, am neither too good nor too kind, but I have to agree with Pru,’ replied the Duke, handing Jack a glass of wine before sitting down next to his wife. ‘I have never seen any sign of flirtatious or untoward behaviour when she is in Devon.’

‘But you cannot deny her reputation.’

‘No, Jack, I don’t deny it.’ Garrick shrugged. ‘Mayhap she was corrupted by her late husband. Massyngham was notorious for his debauchery, and it caused a great scandal when he married a girl less than half his age.’

‘And how do you know that, my love?’ the Duchess enquired. ‘You were out of the country at that time.’

‘Anyone might know of it,’ said Jack, bitterly. ‘Their marriage was the talk of the town. As are all the widow’s exploits.’

‘That does not mean it is all true,’ argued the Duchess.

‘But she has never denied any of it. And it is well known that she was happy enough playing hostess at her husband’s parties,’ said Jack, his lip curling. ‘If only half the rumours are to be believed, she took as many lovers as her husband!’

‘Pru pays little heed to rumours, thank heaven,’ said the Duke, taking his wife’s hand and raising it to his lips.

She smiled up at him, then said, seriously, ‘Even if the gossip about her marriage is true, it is possible the lady has changed now that she is a widow. Oh, I know she spends her time on frivolous pursuits like dancing, and everyone in town agrees she is very entertaining, but I have always thought Sabrina—’ her brow furrowed ‘—un peu triste.’

‘It is ennui rather than tristesse, Duchess,’ drawled Jack. ‘Her life has been one long round of balls and parties. And lovers!’

She gave him a considering look and he laughed quickly. Not for the world would he have anyone guess his own association with the Wicked Widow.

‘I know, Pru, you are about to say I am not so very different.’

‘It does seem a little hard to criticise the lady for behaving very much as you do,’ she remarked.

Jack was tempted to say it was different for men, but he did not really believe that, and he knew Pru would not allow it. He waved a hand, trying to justify himself.

‘I enjoy London Society, I admit, and I have had my share of lovers, but I draw the line at such wanton dissipation. Why, Massyngham was not dead six months before she left off her widow’s weeds and returned to town!’

‘You do not like her,’ observed the Duchess.

‘It is not a case of liking or otherwise,’ he replied, prevaricating as much as he dared. ‘We move in very different circles.’ Then the outright lie: ‘I hardly know her.’

‘Well, I understand Sabrina is staying with the Kydds until Christmas, and as they are our neighbours, you are sure to meet her on several occasions,’ Pru replied comfortably. ‘I think you might be pleasantly surprised in the lady once you become better acquainted.’

Garrick came over to refill Jack’s glass.

‘I do not know them well, but the Kydds seem a very agreeable couple,’ he remarked. ‘No one really knows why they chose to settle here. They do not appear to have any friends or family in the area.’

‘I believe that gave rise to no little speculation at the time,’ put in Pru, adding judiciously, ‘But we know nothing of what happened, save that they left London quite suddenly and retired to Hartland.’

‘Then let me enlighten you,’ said Jack drily. ‘Sir Anthony had a minor role in the government until his daughter’s brilliant marriage. The marriage settlement provided him with the funds to retire and take up the life of a country gentleman.’

‘Can that be true?’ Pru looked at him, amazed. ‘The Kydds live so quietly. They never flaunt their wealth. He is always such a quiet, mild-mannered man. In fact, tonight’s discussions about the hardship in the country was the most animated I have seen him.’

Jack frowned a little. ‘I remember thinking he might be a radical when I met him in town.’ He added hastily, ‘Not that I knew him at all well.’

‘Perhaps his rich and powerful son-in-law put paid to his radical tendencies,’ suggested Garrick.

‘Or his fortune-hunting daughter did not wish to see her chances of a good match ruined just because of her father’s conscience!’

The Duchess shook her head at him. ‘You are very hard on Lady Massyngham, Jack.’

‘With good cause. She is a heartless woman, intent only upon her own pleasure.’

‘Do you think so?’ Pru frowned. ‘I have always felt a little sorry for her.’

‘That is doubtless what she wishes you to be!’

The Duchess was looking concerned, and Jack decided not to say any more on the subject. He drank the last of his wine and rose.

‘It grows late and I should retire. Goodnight Pru, my dear.’

He bent to kiss her cheek, nodded to the Duke and went up to bed, praying that Sabrina’s scent on the sheets would not ruin his slumbers.