Chapter Three

Sabrina’s smile never faltered. She was accustomed to men flirting with her, but very few were quite so blunt. He might court other ladies charmingly, but he had clearly decided she required no such finesse. Deep inside, her emotions were in turmoil. Anger swirled around like a boiling cauldron, rage at him for his effrontery, even more at herself for caring.

She ignored his outstretched hand and rose, taking a moment to shake out her skirts as she blinked back the angry tears that stung her eyes. She had only herself to blame; she played this game too well.

When she was sure she was in command of herself, Sabrina shook her head.

‘It will be neither, sir. It is time for me to leave. Alone,’ she added quickly, lest he should suggest he go with her.

‘So soon? The night is yet young. Stay and dance with me.’

Another little shake of her head. To be held in his arms and look up into those eyes that had once gazed at her so warmly was more than she could bear.

‘Goodnight, Lord John.’

She gave him what she hoped was an enigmatic smile and moved towards the door. He followed, falling into step beside her as they emerged into the pillared hall.

‘You have an assignation, perhaps,’ he suggested.

‘Perhaps.’ Peeping up at him, she saw his jaw tighten. Good, she thought. Let him suffer a little! Then she relented and added, ‘Or mayhap I am merely fatigued.’

He caught her arm. ‘Which is it, my lady?’

She panicked at his touch and shook him off angrily.

‘That is none of your business!’

She turned away to speak to a lackey, who went off to summon her carriage. Then she sent a maid running for her cloak. She was done with this pretence. She no longer wanted to play games with Jack; it was far too dangerous.

At that moment several ladies and gentlemen swept down the stairs like a flock of noisy and colourful birds. As the group made their way towards the main door, Sabrina recognised several acquaintances amongst them and she stepped back into the shadowy space between the pillars and the wall. She was too overwrought to be drawn into their conversation, nor did she want to be seen with Lord John Callater. Since her marriage she had never shied away from scandal, some would say she relished the gossip, but for some inexplicable reason she was reluctant to have Jack’s name linked with the widow of the debauched, lecherous Sir Roderick Massyngham.

When Sabrina moved back, Jack followed, unwilling to let her go so easily. The maid returned and he took the velvet wrap from her and placed it around Sabrina’s shoulders. He could feel the delicate bones beneath his fingers, and when he breathed in her familiar perfume he was swamped by a rush of bittersweet memories. And raw, overpowering jealousy.

‘Are you going to meet your lover, madam?’ he whispered in her ear. When she did not answer, his hands tightened. ‘Tell me!’

‘A lady does not divulge her secrets.’

‘A lady!’ Angrily he turned her around to face him. ‘You stopped being a lady the day you sold yourself in marriage to that ageing roué!’

She gasped in outrage. Her head snapped back and she tried to slap him, but he caught her wrist. She raised her other hand and he grasped that too, twisting her arms behind her back so that she was held against him, breast to breast.

‘They say the Wicked Widow’s bed is never empty,’ he muttered, his lip curling in disdain.

‘Then it must be true.’ She flung the words at him, her eyes darting fire through the slits of her mask. ‘You would do well to stay away from her!’

‘Oh, I will,’ he muttered. Her breasts were pushing against him with each deep, angry breath, and the last shreds of his restraint snapped. ‘After this!’

He tore off her mask even as his head came down, and he captured her mouth with his own in a hard, demanding kiss. She froze, but only for a moment, then she was responding, leaning into him, returning his kiss with a hungry passion that left him reeling.

His arms tightened. She was everything he had dreamed of and more. The half-forgotten scent of her, a mix of soap and summer flowers that inflamed his senses far more than any heavy perfume. Her tongue tangled with his in an erotic dance that had his body hardening.

He wanted to cover her face with kisses, to trail them down her neck and run his hands over the silky skin beneath the flimsy gown. He wanted to hear her cry out in pleasure...

‘Lady Massyngham’s carriage!’

The doorman’s sonorous call echoed around the hall, recalling Jack to his surroundings. He raised his head, gasping for breath as Sabrina tore herself out of his grasp. She gave him one final, savage glare before turning on her heel and hurrying towards the door, throwing up her hood as she went.

More people were coming down the stairs and Jack recognised the Duke and Duchess of Hartland. Confound it, the last people he wanted to see were such good friends! He remained in the shadows, hoping they would not notice him, but they turned back towards the supper room, and he knew he had been spotted.

‘Jack!’ Garrick hailed him cheerfully. ‘I am just taking Pru into supper. The dancing has not yet recommenced. Come and join us!’

‘No. Thank you. I have just come from there.’ Jack ripped off his mask and stretched his mouth into a smile. It was a struggle to concentrate with his thoughts still on that kiss and the blood pounding through his body.

‘We are a little late coming down,’ said Garrick, adding with a laugh, ‘I hope you haven’t eaten everything—’

The Duchess interrupted him, her voice full of concern.

‘Is something wrong, Jack?’ She stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. ‘Are you unwell?’

Trust Pru to notice, he thought, giving himself a mental shake. Kind, generous Prudence who was alive to everyone’s troubles. Not for the world could he explain what had occurred. Not when he didn’t quite understand it himself.

‘No, nothing like that,’ he said, trying to speak lightly. ‘Too much wine, I fear. And these pirate’s robes are damned uncomfortable. I shall go home.’

‘So early?’ Garrick’s brows went up. ‘That will surprise your man, to see you back before dawn!’

‘Aye, won’t it just?’

Jack managed what he hoped was a creditable grin and a cheery wave as he took leave of his friends. Outside, the chilly October darkness wrapped about him and he set off in the direction of Piccadilly. A walk was just what he needed to clear his head.

Meeting Sabrina again had brought back all the hurt and anger he had felt six years ago. Within a few short months of meeting the lively, pretty Miss Kydd, he had fallen headlong into love with her. Jack had behaved impeccably. He had done nothing more than kiss her hand, but it had made no difference. He knew it was love. He had never felt such a deep and ardent passion for anyone. And he had been convinced Sabrina felt the same. Every look, every gesture confirmed it. And yet she had rejected him for Rogue Massyngham, a man old enough to be her father.

‘But as rich as Croesus, damn him!’

He had not realised he had spoken aloud until a gentleman walking in the opposite direction stopped and demanded angrily what he meant by it. Jack quickly begged pardon and walked on, raging inwardly. A chance meeting with the Wicked Widow had brought it all back to him but he could not, would not, allow Sabrina to destroy his happiness again.

The short carriage journey from Tarleton House to Brook Street was not long enough to calm Sabrina. She was still trembling when she reached the privacy of the bedchamber, where her maid was waiting. Jane took one look at her mistress and threw up her hands.

‘Heavens, ma’am, you look chilled to the bone!’

She put one arm about Sabrina and led her to a chair beside the fire before slipping away to fetch a cup of hot chocolate. Sabrina barely noticed. She sat hunched in the chair, staring into the fire and rocking herself back and forth until her maid returned.

‘Oh, bless us and save us, you are as white as a sheet,’ muttered Jane, setting down the cup and hurrying across the room. She bent and put her arms about Sabrina, rocking her gently back and forth as she crooned. ‘There, there, my poor lamb.’

The kindness of the older woman was too much to bear. Sabrina burst into tears.

‘That’s right, dearie, you have a good cry. Jane will look after you. You are safe now, my sweeting.’

The maid continued to murmur softly as hard sobs wracked Sabrina. The tears continued to fall and it was a good ten minutes before she could control her weeping. She gently pushed herself free from Jane and sat up, hunting for her handkerchief.

‘I beg your pardon, Jane,’ she sniffed, wiping her cheeks. ‘I am not normally such a watering pot.’

‘I know, dearie, which is why I want to know just what has upset you.’ She drew up a chair and sat down facing her mistress. ‘Come along now, Miss Sabrina. I knows you inside out, so you tell me all about it. When you came in, you looked as if you’d seen a ghost.’

‘Oh, Jane, I think I did.’

Sabrina wiped her eyes. Jane Nidd had looked after her in the nursery before progressing to become her maid when she left the schoolroom and accompanying Sabrina as lady’s maid when she wed Sir Roderick Massyngham. There was very little about her mistress that she did not know. She had been her only confidante during those long, unhappy years of marriage, and now the temptation to unburden herself was too strong to resist.

‘Not a ghost exactly,’ she said now. ‘Someone I knew once. Before I was married.’

‘Ah.’ Jane sat back, her shrewd eyes on Sabrina’s face. ‘A gentleman you were sweet on, was it?’

‘Yes.’ Sabrina dragged her handkerchief back and forth between her fingers. ‘I did not tell you—I did not tell anyone—but I think, I believe he was about to propose to me when Papa received the...the offer from Sir Roderick. I had encouraged him, you see. I had made it clear that I would w-welcome his addresses.’

‘That’s as may be, Miss Sabrina, but you were not then one-and-twenty. It could not have gone ahead without your parents’ approval,’ argued Jane. ‘And after...’ She stopped and drew a breath, then she closed her lips for a moment, as if to prevent herself saying something she should not. Then, ‘You would have had to refuse him.’

‘Yes.’ More tears fell and Sabrina was obliged to wipe them away. ‘But I didn’t even tell him. I pretended I was not at home instead of speaking to him. I should have explained, told him why I c-could not marry him.’

‘How could you, ma’am? The whole thing had to be hushed up.’ The maid sniffed. ‘Your father would have turned me off, too, only he was afraid I would blab what I knew.’

‘And I would not let you go. I needed you to come with me when I married,’ added Sabrina, giving her a watery smile. ‘You were my only comfort, Jane. You still are.’

‘Thank you, my lady.’ They sat in silence for a few moments, then Jane took Sabrina’s hands and peered up into her face. ‘Now, is there anything more you want to tell me, my lady?’

‘No.’ Sabrina shook her head. ‘I had not been expecting to see him. It was the shock of it that upset me, but I am well now, I promise you. And I will not allow it to happen again.’

‘Very well, ma’am. Let’s get you into your bed, and then I will take away your chocolate and warm it up again.’

‘No need, Jane. Thank you, but I do not want it.’

‘It will help you to sleep.’

But Sabrina was adamant. She assured Jane she did not need anything to help her sleep. What she did not say was that, despite all her tears and unhappiness, she wanted to stay awake. Once her maid had gone, she slipped from her bed and drew back the curtains so that she could look out at the stars while she thought about what had happened tonight at Tarleton House. She wanted to go back over every shocking, frightening, precious moment that she had spent with Lord John Callater.

When Sabrina awoke, the distress of the previous night had melted away and the October sun creeping over the horizon and into her room promised a fine day. It had been unnerving to meet Jack Callater again and to discover he was every bit as attractive as she remembered. More so, because six years ago he had been charmingly correct and had done no more than salute her hand. That had been enough to win her heart, and yet, innocent as she was, she had known there was so much more to come. Sabrina no longer considered herself innocent, and yet she had not expected to be so moved by last night’s encounter. The searing kiss they shared had rocked her to her very core.

She had been quite unprepared for the way her body had responded, the powerful instinct that made her press her body to him and kiss him back in a way she had never kissed anyone before. Even here, alone in the security of her own room, her body tingled with the memory of the feelings that kiss had evoked. She felt so very alive, as if she had suddenly been wakened from a deep slumber. What shocked her most was that she wanted to do it again, to throw herself into Jack’s arms and give herself up to him completely.

Could she do it? Sabrina stared out at the lightening sky. Six years ago she had been quite inexperienced in the ways of the world, but she had loved Jack Callater with every fibre of her being. It had broken her heart to accept Sir Roderick Massyngham’s proposal. Afterwards she had deliberately kept away from Jack, because it was impossible to reveal to him the true reason she was marrying Sir Roderick, but she could not bring herself to lie. Nor could she bear to witness the pain she would cause him. Since then, she had often wondered just how much he had suffered from her actions. Lord John Callater’s name was always appearing in the society pages, and one could not ignore the gossip about his numerous affairs.

He had been very angry with her last night, and of course he had every right to be since she had as good as jilted him. And yet, although that final kiss had begun in anger, Sabrina was very sure that it had stirred old passions for them both. She had stayed awake for hours, going over every word, every look, and with the morning sun came the first tiny rays of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps it might be possible to win back his affection.

By the time Sabrina had finished her solitary breakfast, she had come to a decision. She went into the morning room and opened the drawer of her little writing desk, where she kept her correspondence. Her parents had moved from London very shortly after Sabrina had married and now lived in Devonshire, in the parish of Hartland and close to the residence of the Duke and Duchess of Hartland. It was only after they were settled there that Sabrina discovered Jack was a good friend of the Duke. Once she learned that he was a regular guest there, Sabrina was very careful to arrange her own visits to her parents for occasions when she could be sure Jack would not be in Devon.

She pulled out the most recent letter from her mother and quickly read it until she reached the lines she was looking for:

We have now received our invitation to the November Ball at Hartland Hall. It includes you, Sabrina, and the Duchess has written expressly to say how welcome you would be. She considers you to be friends now.

Friends! Sabrina smiled a little at that. There was no doubt that in Devonshire she and the Duchess enjoyed each other’s company, but here in town Sabrina was careful to keep her distance. It would not do for the Duke’s new bride to be seen in the company of the Wicked Widow.

Sabrina refolded the letter slowly. She had replied already, giving her apologies, but now things had changed. She drew a fresh sheet of paper towards her and picked up her pen.