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“We’d be delighted to accompany you, of course,” said her mother with enthusiasm.
Sabrina held back a scream of pure frustration.
It was long after he’d gone before she worked up the courage to speak with her mother and beg her to leave off any further matchmaking.
“Oh, there you are! Giulio Cesare—isn’t it wonderful?” asked her mother the moment she saw her standing in the doorway. “Henry was always a dear boy. It is such a joy to see what a fine young man he’s become.”
Sabrina hadn’t seen her so cheery in years. Her determination wavered. Mama had suffered enough disappointment in life. For her sake, she would bear Montgomery’s odious company a bit longer. It might slow her plans to conquer Fairford, but it would certainly not stop her.
“I must say, you were not yourself this afternoon, young lady,” her mother continued. “You are not feeling ill, I hope?”
“I’m perfectly fine, Mama. Just tired.”
“Did you not sleep well?”
Why is everyone so concerned with the quality of my sleep?
“Well, I suppose there was a lot of excitement last night,” her mother answered herself lightly.
Sabrina’s patience finally frayed. “It was only a kiss, Mama!”
“I was not speaking of your indiscretion,” replied her mother without missing a beat. “The world does not revolve solely around you, my dear.”
Her cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she muttered.
“Quite all right. I suspect your attention was taken up by…other things.” She smiled wickedly, and Sabrina’s face heated a bit more. “Colonel Blake offered for Cassandra Mayfield’s hand. The boy dropped knee right there in the ballroom. But you would know that, had you been where you were supposed to be.”
She ignored the barb. “They only met but a fortnight ago—she’s mad if she accepts!”
“Why? Many marriages begin with the bride and groom meeting for the first time on their wedding day. I’ve spoken with her mother, and she feels they’re very well suited. Cassandra is overjoyed.”
“Cassandra is bereft of all good sense!” Sabrina said, scoffing, unwilling to give over. “How can anyone possibly be certain of their feelings for someone after only a fortnight?”
Her mother shot her a knowing glance. “I agree with Lady Mayfield and believe it to be a fine match. I saw them dancing last night, and I feel they will be very happy together. They are announcing the engagement next week.”
Sabrina crossed her arms and set her jaw. “Well, I certainly shan’t accept the first fellow to claim a tender sentiment for me. In fact, I should prefer it if the man I marry never speaks to me of love at all.”
“Pish tosh, girl! You’ll be grateful if your husband harbors warm feelings for you, I assure you.”
“Of all people, how can you possibly say such a—” Sabrina stopped, aghast. “I’m sorry, Mama, I didn’t mean—it’s just that I remember…” She looked down. “I know how things were between you. How they really were.”
“This has been coming for a long time,” said her mother calmly. “I thought that perhaps you might have grown to understand without my having to explain. I see now that I was wrong.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come and sit, my dear.”
Numbly, Sabrina did as requested.
“Your father had mistresses out of necessity, Sabrina. I nearly died giving birth to you, and the doctor told us it would be too dangerous for me to go through it again.” She bowed her head, her voice growing soft and sad. “Your father was still young, still full of vigor. He did the best he could under the circumstances. Out of respect for me, he kept a proper mistress rather than shaming me with the household servants like so many men do. And he never kept the same one for more than a year, to prevent any undue attachments from forming.”
Her mother blushed to the tips of her ears. “I can’t believe I’m telling you these things, but it’s time you know the truth.”
“Mama, I really don’t think this is—”
“It is absolutely necessary!” snapped her mother. “You need not fear your husband’s affections.”
“I’m not afraid of—”
“Shh! Let me finish.” Her mother clasped her hand. “There are ways to prevent conceiving, Sabrina. Ways I didn’t know about until it was too late. Your father was already quite ill by the time I learned of the herbs and the”—her voice sank to a whisper—“the French sheath.”
Sabrina squirmed. Augusta and she had talked about such things in whispers a few times. Never had she expected to hear of it from Mama!
