Page 13 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

However, her inner thoughts used his given name. It was Irish in origin, and certainly fit with his black-as-midnight hair and startling light blue eyes. His pale skin was creamy and flawless—Celtic, to be sure. His speech was elegant, but she assumed it had come more from his training than his actual background.

The schoolmaster had told her nothing of his life. Perhaps he came from the middle class? What did it matter; she would not be bound to him for life. Sabrina didn’t like the idea of him contacting a solicitor, but it was one way to be sure of the options. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, closed her eyes, and started drifting to sleep.

Mary entered the room and bustled to the window, tearing open the silver drapes, allowing sun to pour into the room. “It is nigh on eleven o’clock, my lady. You never sleep this late. I’ll bring you toast and tea immediately. Are you well?”

Mary hurried to her bedside and plumped the pillows as Sabrina yawned and sat upright, blinking at the bright autumn sun. “I must have needed the sleep. Toast and tea sound lovely. I suppose my father did not miss me at breakfast?”

“I doubt it, my lady. He left around eight this morning. I hear he’s off to London for two days, paying a visit to a certain young lady. Would you like me to find out the name?”

A good thing Mary kept her apprised of the comings and goings and other activities of the house, or Sabrina would have no idea what was going on. Her father told her nothing. “Yes, be subtle about it.” A maid from downstairs entered the room carrying a tray and Mary took it from her. The girl gave an awkward curtsy and left the room.

“Here we are,” Mary murmured, laying the tray on Sabrina’s lap. “Toast, tea, and fresh blackberry jam, just how you like it.”

Her devoted lady’s maid was about fifty-five years of age, the daughter of a sailor. When Mary’s father was lost at sea in her early twenties, she’d no choice but to enter service to keep a roof over her head and look after her widowed mother.

By the time Sabrina had arrived at the Pepperdon estate, Mary was already there as a parlor maid, and since she’d served as a lady’s maid to the former Lady Pepperdon, Sabrina chose Mary to do the same for her. With her no-nonsense manner, twinkling brown eyes, and kind nature, Mary was precisely what Sabrina needed. Though her chestnut-brown hair had threads of gray at her temples, her pleasant face remained remarkably unlined.

Mary spoiled her terribly, but Sabrina reveled in it. It was the first time in her life anyone had paid attention to her in a positive way. How many nights did her kind maid offer soothing solace after a horrific episode with Pepperdon? At the lowest points of her life, it comforted Sabrina to think of Mary as a kindly aunt. Servants were not supposed to be thought of in such a way, but Sabrina couldn’t help it. Mary was all she had.

Swallowing down the ball of emotion lodged in her throat, she gave Mary a warm smile. “I do not tell you enough how much I appreciate you. You mean a great deal to me. Have a seat, Mary. I must tell you about our status in this house. It is rather precarious.”

Mary sat in the chair next to the bed. “I’ve an idea what you’re about to say. The servants do gossip, I’m afraid. Your father wishes to marry you off to another elderly peer.”

Sabrina arched an eyebrow as she sipped her tea.

“George is worse than an old washer woman for gossiping. He needs a talking to. Mentioned you met the schoolmaster for luncheon. Alone. Although he did believe your tale about it being a business-type meeting, contributions for the school and the like. But it wasn’t, was it, my lady?”

Spreading jam on her toast, she shook her head. “No, Mary. It was not about the school.”

“I heard from the twittering maids that the new schoolmaster is a virile young man, with black hair and sparkling blue eyes to rival the summer sky above. I’m quoting the foolish young things, mind you.”

What an apt description. “He is as you describe. When I tell you why I went to see him, you will be shocked.”

In between eating her toast and sipping her tea, she told Mary everything—even of her clandestine visit of last night.

Mary sat back in her chair, her mouth slightly agape. “You astound me, my lady.”

“I astound myself. Never believed I had it in me to be audacious. But if I can enter this sham of a marriage, obtain a quick and quiet annulment, and collect the settlement agreed upon, then you and I will move far from here. I’ll be able to purchase a small cottage by the sea, large enough for the two of us.” Sabrina frowned into her half empty cup. “Perhaps at last I will find a modicum of peace.” The last words ended on a whisper.

Mary patted her hand. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you, my lady. But how can you trust this schoolmaster? He’s a stranger, only been in the area barely a month.”

Sabrina recalled listening to his lesson outside the window. She’d been enthralled by the mere resonance of his deep, hypnotizing voice. In the rich tones she’d heard consideration, civility, and intelligence. At that point, she did not care a bit what he looked like, he sounded…honest. Sincere. Then, when she had seen him…Lord, what a vision. She nearly sighed aloud thinking of him standing there, the wind ruffling his thick, black hair. The afternoon sun framing him in a golden halo.

Enough daydreaming. “He is a complete stranger, but I believe he is a proper one. I heard something in his voice, the way he spoke to the children, treated them with respect. He may not even agree to any of this. Perhaps I’m mad.”

“Let me see what I can find out about him. Mr. Riordan Black, you say his name is?” Sabrina nodded. “I’ll venture to town this afternoon, for your embroidery thread, and make subtle inquiries.”

“I don’t like to embroider, as you well know.” Sabrina smiled sardonically.

“True, but the baron doesn’t know it.” Mary stood. “Now, we should get you dressed and ready for the day.” Opening the nearby wardrobe, Mary held up the black bombazine dress.

“Discard the mourning garments, Mary. I am done with them. The black bonnets as well.” Mary tossed the dress to the bed and instead held up a green and yellow walking dress. Two years out of date, but who would notice?

Confusing feelings swirled about in her mind. This was to be a business arrangement, nothing more. However, she found Riordan attractive. Sabrina would never act on it. Her course of abstinence was set. Never again would a man lay a hand on her for any purpose.

* * * *

With the harvest break upon him, Riordan headed to Wollstonecraft Hall. Since his family estate was located near Sevenoaks in Kent and a mere twenty-one miles from London, he was sorely tempted to head to town and locate Sutherhorne. A visit to Barley, Kenworth, and Davis, Barristers and Solicitors, should be at the top of his list. Sitting at the dining room table, he pulled William Chambers’s letter from the side pocket of his coat and snapped it open.