Chapter Ten

Jack stood in the empty kitchen and stared at the closed door, Sabrina’s final words echoing in the silence that pressed upon him. Could he believe her? What man would not want to think she was telling the truth? But all the evidence was against her, all the stories, the rumours, the gossip. Even her own actions in rejecting him for a richer prize with never a word, or a hint of remorse. Perhaps she regretted that now, just as he regretted his cruel words to her at Hartland, but it was too late. He had to face up to that.

However strong the attraction, those deeds would stand between them forever, a weapon to be thrown up every time they were at odds.

‘Confound it, man,’ he muttered to the empty room. ‘Stay civil to the widow until you can be free of this place, then forget her.’

Jack knew it would take an effort to meet with Sabrina again and act as if nothing had occurred, but it would not do to let the others think there was anything amiss. He changed into his evening coat and pantaloons for dinner and made his way to the drawing room at the appointed hour as if being snowbound with a beautiful temptress was an everyday occurrence.

He walked in to find the room warm and glowing with candlelight. Mary and Sabrina were sitting on a sofa, a branched candlestick beside them on the table. Determined to remain polite, Jack gave a little bow and even managed to greet them with a smile.

‘Mrs Nidd told me I should find you both in here.’

Sabrina looked up. ‘Good evening, Lord John.’

She spoke calmly enough, but Jack noticed that her eyes were wary. She waved a hand towards the tambour frame on the girl’s lap.

‘As you see, I am helping Mary with her embroidery.’

The little girl held up her work, and he made a show of raising his quizzing glass to inspect it.

‘That is very neat. Well done, Mary.’

The girl looked inordinately pleased, and he asked her if she would be joining them at dinner. Immediately the smile disappeared and she glanced uncertainly at Sabrina.

‘Mary would prefer to dine in the kitchen with Jane,’ she told him. ‘That is, if you have no objection, my lord?’

Yes, he objected. Jack wanted to say that he would like to have her to join them for dinner, but this mess was not of Mary’s making. The poor girl had enough worries without giving her any more. So he smiled.

‘Of course I have no objection.’ He added cheerfully, ‘This is Miss Steadmarsh’s house, and she must do whatever makes her most comfortable.’

Mary gave him a grateful smile as she packed up her work, then she slipped off the sofa, and with a whispered “excuse me,” she hurried away.

‘I did nothing to discourage her from dining with us,’ Sabrina told him, as soon as they were alone. ‘Believe me, I should have very much preferred her to keep us company!’

‘Pray lower those hackles and stop glaring at me, Sabrina. I am not here to pick a quarrel with you. I did not for a moment think you had tried to influence the girl. We agreed we would do nothing to discompose her, did we not? She is still a little shy of me and will be far more comfortable eating with Mrs Nidd.’

An uneasy silence fell. After a while, Sabrina rose and moved towards the side table.

‘Mr Weald has already brought in some wine, if you would like a glass, my lord.’

‘Not the champagne then?’

He saw her cheeks flame and cursed himself. Why had he mentioned that? It had conjured up thoughts of what had happened in the wine cellar for both of them. All at once the memory of it hovered around them in the air. Once again his body was thrumming with desire.

‘We agreed,’ she muttered, keeping her back to him. ‘We have to forget all about this morning.’

‘I know.’ He took a hasty turn about the room before coming to a stand in front of her. ‘Have you forgotten it? Can you?’

He looked down at her bowed head, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and taking her in his arms. He continued in a gentler voice.

‘I do not want to forget it.’ He thrust a hand through his hair. ‘There is something between us, Sabrina. Some...connection that is quite out of the ordinary. I have never felt like this before. Perhaps if we could talk about it, we could get beyond quarrelling every time we meet.’

‘But that is not possible,’ she told him. ‘Do you not see? I wounded you badly when I married Sir Roderick, and since then you have hurt me. The pain goes too deep, and it will always haunt us. It will always stand in the way of our happiness.’

He wanted to argue, to believe there was a way through this.

‘Must it?’ he countered. ‘Can we not forgive one another?’

She looked up at him, her green eyes dark and stormy. ‘I thought so once, Jack. When I danced with you at Hartland, I thought we might be able to put the past behind us, but you proved to me it was not possible. You cannot forgive me, and in truth, I cannot forgive myself for letting you down so badly.’

‘If only you could tell me why you did it,’ he said. ‘Why you rejected me in favour of that, that roué.’

‘If only you could accept that I had my reasons.’ Her smile was so sad it tore at his heart. ‘I am not nearly as wicked as society makes out, Jack, but we have hurt each other too much. If we were to grow closer, do you think either of us could ever forget that? Whenever we had an argument, it would be there, ready to inflict more pain. You know that as well as I.’

He did. Had he not told himself very much the same thing earlier? But the idea of them both being under the same roof for days, possibly weeks more was sheer torment. Not just for himself, he knew Sabrina felt it too. They would have to get through the days as best they could. As for the nights...best not even to think about that!

He said now, ‘Then let us not argue again tonight.’ She eyed him doubtfully and he smiled at her. ‘Surely it cannot be that hard for us to spend a few hours together without fighting. Let me start by asking if I may pour you a glass of whatever it is Tom had brought up for us...’ He stepped across to inspect the decanter. ‘Madeira?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘As you wish.’

Was it possible to be together without arguing? Sabrina wondered about that as Jack poured a glass of wine for himself. She wanted it to be so, desperately, but there was too much pain and resentment between them. It lurked just below the surface and however wonderful she found his kisses, however much they might both enjoy the pleasures of the bedroom, it would always be there. It they were both mild-tempered saints it would be difficult enough, but they were not. One wrong word, one tiny disagreement and it would spring up again.

The awkward silence returned. She watched Jack walk over to the hearth. There was power in every line of him, the broad shoulders and tapering waist, the muscular thighs encased in the tight-fitting pantaloons. He dropped another log on the fire, sending up a shower of sparks, then stepped back, dusting his hands. She looked at the long, tapering fingers, remembering the feel of them on her skin, the memory of his sure, gentle touch was even now turning her insides to water. Thank heaven, he was looking into the fire and not at her, or he would see how much she wanted him!

‘This room looks far better than it did yesterday,’ he remarked, looking around him. ‘Mrs Nidd must have worked hard to fit this in with all her kitchen duties.’

Sabrina hesitated. ‘Actually, I cleaned it.’

‘You did this?’

‘Yes. And I took it upon myself to tidy Mary’s and my bedchambers. I would not leave it all to my maid.’ She put up her chin. ‘I do know how to keep house, even though you think me fit for nothing but dancing and gaiety!’

Sabrina wished she could take the words back. In other circumstances they might have been construed as mere teasing, but Jack could not be blamed if he saw them as provocative.

‘I do not think that at all, but let us not fall out over it. We agreed it will not do for us to quarrel, did we not?’

His calm words soothed her temper. She said, ‘Very true, my lord. Tell me instead what you have been doing since...this morning.’

Sabrina trailed off, flushing, and he quickly stepped into the breach.

‘I took a walk to the farm. I wanted to discover something more about Steadmarsh, but it appears the man did not mix much with his neighbours. At least, not those this side of South Molton. Farmer Jessop told me they all heard that Mrs Steadmarsh had died, but he doubts any one of the neighbours knew of the family’s present circumstances. It seems the Jessops only have dealings with them because they supply Hare Hall with milk and meat.’

‘So we are no nearer discovering what has happened to Mary’s father.’

‘Sadly no. I explained the situation to Mrs Jessop, and she said she had heard nothing save that some of the servants had quit Hare Hall. The housekeeper’s going was news to her, but with the weather turning so bad, people had not been out and about quite so much. She and her husband appear to be respectable folk, and she was very much shocked to think of Mary being left on her own here. She has offered to take the girl in, once the roads are clear and we can travel again.’

‘How kind of her. However there is no question of our leaving yet, so we do not need to think too much about that.’

She looked up as the door opened and Weald appeared.

‘Mrs Nidd says dinner is ready to be served, ma’am, my lord. If you would care to go through?’

Jack nodded. ‘Yes, thank you, Tom.’

She thought Jack was about to offer her his arm, but he thought better of it and instead merely walked beside her to the dining room.

‘That was very good,’ said Jack, pushing away his plate and wiping his mouth on the napkin. ‘Your maid is an excellent cook.’

‘And your valet makes a very good butler,’ Sabrina replied.

The formal rituals they had observed while dining together had done much to ease the tension between her and Jack. As well as serving the food, Weald had provided them with wine throughout the meal, and the evening had passed far more pleasantly than Sabrina had thought possible.

Jack said, ‘We are fortunate to have two such accomplished people with us.’

‘I would never travel anywhere without Jane,’ she told him, smiling a little. ‘She has been with me since I was in the nursery and is far more of a friend than a servant.’

‘Weald is the same, although I never realised he was so knowledgeable about wine.’

‘A man of many talents, then.’

‘A treasure!’ he agreed.

Their eyes met for one unguarded moment, and Sabrina felt a familiar prickle of attraction. Jack was right. There was a connection between them. It was so real she could almost touch it. She looked away, suddenly uncomfortable, and felt a sense of relief when Weald came in to take away the dishes. She wondered if Jack was aware of it, too, but he was busy folding up his napkin.

Weald bustled around, removing the covers before placing a decanter of cognac and glass on the table for his master. At the sight of it Sabrina’s thoughts turned again to what had happened in the wine cellar. How she had kissed him, making it quite clear what she wanted of him. The pity of it was, that encounter had not lessened her desire for Jack one jot. On the contrary, she wanted him more than ever!

‘Now the meal is over, do you wish to withdraw and leave me to my brandy?’ asked Jack. ‘I promise you I shall not tarry over it.’

He spoke lightly. She knew he was trying to make the question sound like a jest and relieve the tension between them, but Sabrina strove to find a smile in response.

‘You need not hurry on my account. It has been a long day and I am going to retire.’

She rose from her chair. Quite illogically, now they had managed successfully to spend most of the evening together in civil conversation, she wanted him to suggest he should come to her room. Or perhaps he would rise now and take her in his arms, making it impossible for her to leave him.

He did neither. He merely nodded and she turned away.

‘Goodnight, my lord.’

She walked to the door. One word from Jack and she would stay. She did not want to leave. Her spine tingled as she silently begged him to call her back, but he did not. She went out, closing the door behind her, and stood for a moment, listening. Hoping. At length the chill of the passage began to bite, and she made her way up to her bedchamber.

As the door closed behind Sabrina, Jack breathed out a long sigh. At last he was alone and could relax. He reached for the brandy and poured himself a large measure. He did not doubt Sabrina was exhausted. After all, she had set the drawing room to rights, had she not? Her notion of keeping house would consist of issuing orders to her servants. Cleaning and tidying Hare Hall would be a dashed sight more tiring for her than dancing around a ballroom!

Jack’s hand clenched around the glass. He was being unfair and he knew it, but he did not want to think of Sabrina as anything other than a spoiled, wilful jade. The memory of their quarrel that morning haunted him. The look of horror on her face when he had mocked her and her quiet denial that she had lied. He could make no sense of it, other than to tell himself again that it was all part of her plans to heighten his desire.

He scowled into his glass.

‘Well, she won’t succeed,’ he muttered.

Admit it, man, she already has.

His scowl deepened and he finished off the rest of his brandy.

Confound it, he should have taken dinner in his room, but that would have entailed a great deal of extra work for everyone. And more than that, what excuse could he have given, after they had agreed they would not expose their quarrel to the household? He could not, would not admit to a soul how much she bewitched him!

‘I will fight this,’ he muttered, reaching for the decanter. ‘I will beat this. I must, or I am doomed.’

Another day of overcast skies and snow showers dawned. With no servants in the house, there was plenty to do to keep everyone occupied. After breakfast Sabrina carried Mary off to read with her, and Jack went outside to help the men. When there was a break in the weather, they cleared the yard of snow and threw down ash and clinker from the fires on the icy paths.

He managed to avoid Sabrina until dinner time, where they both made efforts to maintain a façade of polite civility. Conversation was desultory, all contentious subjects were avoided and, as soon as the meal was finished, Sabrina retired, pleading fatigue.

Jack closed his eyes and let out a long breath of frustration. This was even worse than last night’s dinner. They had spent the evening circling around one another like a couple of wary animals, and he had never felt so exhausted.

Finishing his wine, he gathered up the empty glasses and made his way to the kitchen,where he was surprised to find Sabrina helping Tom Weald and Mrs Nidd to clean and tidy the room. She started when she saw him, as if he had caught her out in some guilty act.

‘Ah.’ He hesitated in the doorway, and Jane came bustling up.

‘So you have brought your glasses, Lord John. Thank you,’ she said, taking them from him.

‘Yes. I have also put out the candles. I thought that might save you and Tom a little work.’

‘Aye, it does indeed,’ she replied, her shrewd dark eyes twinkling at him. ‘Very thoughtful of you, my lord.’

She walked off and Jack glanced again at Sabrina, but she quickly looked away.

‘Very well.’ He nodded. ‘I will bid you all goodnight then.’

He went out, closing the door behind him. He picked up his chamberstick and made his way up the stairs. So, she preferred the company of servants to his own. Not that he blamed her. He had been doing precisely the same thing all day. What cursed bad luck to be snowbound like this, and for heaven knew how long!

It was on their fourth morning at Hare Hall that Jack awoke to find the weather had changed. It was calm and dry, and by the time he went to fetch in more logs, the sun had risen. Outside was dazzlingly bright. A clear sky overnight had left the lying snow glittering in the morning sunshine, and he breathed in the icy air as his feet scrunched across the yard to the wood store.

Abel and Sam had spent much of the previous day filling the wood baskets, chopping more logs and piling them up for use, but Jack fetched the axe to cut more. He needed to work off some of his frustration after another disturbed night. He could avoid Sabrina for most of the day, but at night she invaded his dreams. Not the starched-up ice maiden he dined with each evening, but Sabrina dancing, light as air and with her green eyes shining like stars. Sabrina teasing him, or Sabrina laughing, her face alight with merriment.

Sabrina naked, lying on the bed, her silky skin sliding against his, hair loose and flowing like honey over the white pillows...

With a growl he swung the axe. The sun glinted on the blade as it fell and sliced the first log cleanly in two. He swung it again, and again with unerring accuracy, watching in satisfaction as the logs split and fell. But all the time his mind was on Sabrina.

Six years. Six years, and still she had the power to distract him. That one swift coupling at Hartland should have been enough to convince him he was well rid of her, the way she tried to compliment him, to pretend she had never enjoyed herself so much!

She said it was the truth.

Jack savagely thrust the thought aside and brought the axe down again, this time so viciously it cleaved through the log and buried itself in the chopping block. How many lovers had she had? He wrenched the axe free. Too many to count, damn her! The blade flashed down again. And again. He grew warm with the exercise, but as the pile of logs began to mount, his anger abated.

The lady’s conduct since they had been at Hare Hall was decorum personified, apart from that one, sweet moment of abandon in the wine cellar. She was more than willing to help Jane with the household chores, as well as spending a great deal of time with Mary, reading with her, dressing her hair and helping her with her sewing. Hardly the behaviour of a dissolute woman.

‘It was true, what I told you at Hartland. I had never enjoyed a man’s caresses.’

Jack paused, letting the axe hang by his side while he thought about that. Perhaps her wickedness was exaggerated. He had never actually heard any man declare openly that he was her lover. There were hints, of course. Sly winks and oblique comments. And there was no denying she had thrown herself into his arms. Twice. There had been no hesitation; she had been as eager as he for it to happen.

He set another log on the chopping block and lifted the axe again. He could make no sense of it. But then, who could make sense of a woman?

Jack spent the whole morning chopping and stacking the wood. The exercise settled him. It solved nothing but it soothed his mind. At last he straightened and pushed his hands into his back, easing the slight ache caused by his exertions before picking up the wood basket and carrying it to the kitchen.

Jane was pottering around, and she stopped in surprise when he came in.

‘Why, my lord, what have you been up to?’ She stood looking at him, her hands on her hips. ‘You know there’s no call for you to go bringing in the wood now, I only have to send word to the stables and the lads would do it, and very happily.’

‘I know they would, Jane, but Sam and Abel are busy enough. Besides, I like to help. I need some occupation too, you know.’

‘Well ’tis a pity you weren’t here earlier or you could have accompanied my lady and little Mary. They have gone out for a walk, it being such a lovely day.’

‘Yes, what a pity,’ he replied, all the while thinking that it was a lucky escape.

Sabrina took up enough of his thoughts; he did not wish to spend any more time with her. The maid was watching him, smiling as if she could read his thoughts, and he felt a dull flush mounting his cheeks.

‘Is there anything else I can do to help you, Mrs Nidd?’

‘Well, perhaps, if you don’t mind,’ she went on, ‘could you take that bucket of coals into the drawing room? It has been sitting here in my way since Abel brought it in last night.’

‘Of course,’ he responded with a smile. ‘And I will light the fire in there, too, if you wish. The ladies will need somewhere warm to sit when they come back indoors.’

Half an hour later the drawing room fire was blazing merrily. Jack stood up and dusted his hands as he surveyed his handiwork with some satisfaction.

‘Not a bad job,’ he muttered to himself. ‘For such a frippery fellow!’

As he turned to leave the room, a movement outside caught his eye and he went over to the bay window. Sabrina was on the lawn with Mary and he stopped to watch them for a moment. They made a pleasing picture, Mary in her red woollen cloak and Sabrina dressed in her dark green pelisse with its fur collar. Instead of her bonnet, she was wearing a jaunty little cap atop her amber curls, and there was a healthy glow to her cheeks. They were piling up the snow with their gloved hands, and although they were making little progress, they were both laughing, both clearly enjoying themselves.

Jack stood at the window, contemplating the scene, smiling a little. Then with a shrug, he turned and walked away.