Sabrina tossed and turned, eventually rolling over onto her back and kicking off the covers. She was restless, unable to sleep. Earlier while on their tour she had asked Douglas which room was his. He had pointed to a set of double doors at the end of the hall indicating the master suite. Knowing that he was just down the hall while she lay in bed alone was making sleep impossible.
Wide awake she stared up at the ceiling wondering what to do. Bloody hell, she thought and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her toes curled against the cold floors but she didn't bother to stop for slippers or a robe. If she did she would likely stop to think about what she was doing and lose her nerve.
Slipping out of her room, she padded lightly down the hall and into the master suite. It was dark, the candles doused and the drapes drawn but she could still make out the large bed in the center of the room. Quietly, hoping not to wake him, she circled around to the left side of the bed and crawled under the covers.
For several minutes she held herself still, afraid to move for fear of waking Douglas. She'd slept alone since the night she'd left him, never getting a good night sleep and his deep, even breathing was an immediate comfort. Back in his bed, his large frame solid beside her and Sabrina felt exhaustion settle over her limbs, dragging her down into sleep.
Douglas waited until Sabrina's breath came deep and even beside him before slowly sliding across the bed. Wrapping one arm around her waist he tucked himself around her spoon-style and closed his eyes.
Marcus woke up alone.
Even before he opened his eyes he knew that the room was vacant except for him. He rose slowly, refusing to acknowledge the pain Sabrina's leaving had caused and dressed carefully. His body felt old - as if he'd aged twenty years during the night. Quietly, he let himself out of the room.
Purgatory was quiet, most of the staff and members having only recently gone to bed. Crossing the dungeon, he considered making arrangements to return later that night but by the time he reached the foyer Marcus knew he'd never be back. "Cancel my membership," he ordered as he passed Lady Jade.
Marcus walked through the front door, out into the late morning light and into a waiting hackney. A short time later he let himself into his townhouse. Most of the staff were still gone enjoying their time off. He had planned to be sharing the night and this morning with Sabrina. Instead he found himself in his study. Not bothering with a glass, Marcus brought the bottle to his lips, took a long swallow and then sent it flying across the room.
"Douglas, go!" Sabrina said watching as he paced back and forth. They stood outside waiting for the loading of the carriage. The horses had been harnessed and ready to go when a broken strap required they be unharnessed and repairs done. The delay was costing them hours. "Go and I'll catch up with you once the carriage is ready."
"I'll wait," Douglas insisted, reluctant to leave his wife.
"Douglas, you're being ridiculous, there is no reason to wait." Sabrina understood his urgency.
"You'll never catch up," Douglas said. "Between the weather and the rode conditions the carriage will likely remain at least a day behind."
Sabrina tilted her head; considering the stubborn set of Douglas' shoulders she knew that he wouldn't be leaving without her. "Jared."
"Yes, ma'am?" Jared had been overseeing the repairs and reharnessing of the horses.
"Have my horse saddled and brought around."
"Yes, ma'am." Jared gave a nod and headed off towards the stables.
"Martin, please see to the carriage and send it on after us," Sabrina said. Leaning into the carriage she dug through her bag and pulled out her traveling cloak.
"Sabrina, what are you doing?" Douglas asked.
"Well, you said it yourself, the carriage will never catch up." Sabrina waited until Jared came back with her horse and then tied her cloak to the back of her saddle. "So there is no reason to wait for it. We'll ride together and Martin can see the carriage to Arlington Park."
Hands on hips, Douglas stood watching his wife. "It's a two-day hard ride and at this time of year bound to be unpleasant." The weather was predictable only in that it was guaranteed to be cold and wet, the roads muddy from days of rain.
"Then we better get started," Sabrina said and motioned for Jared to give her a leg up.
Douglas hesitated for a moment more before nodding and following Sabrina up into his own saddle. Together, they rode out from Westhaven, turning their horses and heading home to Arlington Park. Douglas briefly wondered when Arlington Park had started to feel like home.
"Sir?" Dillon asked hesitantly. He had opened the door but was unwilling to actually enter the study.
"Get out," Marcus said. He lay on the couch, one hand dangling on the floor as he stared into a fire long gone cold.
"I apologize for intruding," Dillon said. Taking a tentative step inside Dillon cringed at the sound of crushed glass under foot.
"I left strict orders not to be disturbed." Distantly, Marcus recognized that even for him this was bad.
"Yes, my lord, but it's Lady Billings. She's called every day for the past three days. I fear this next time I will be unable to convince her to leave without seeing you." In fact, Dillon hoped that was the case. He'd been with the Edingtons for twenty years and had never seen the master like this.
"What did she want?" There was only one woman with the power to reach him - well, maybe two but Sabrina was gone.
"She left this," Dillon said laying the invitation on a small table just inside the door.
"What does it say?" Marcus felt detached from his body, unsure if he had it in him to care.
"There is to be a ball tonight in honor of your stepfather's birthday, your presence is required." Dillon stood silently waiting. Looking around the room he could see evidence of his master's recent state of mind. Dirty dishes of uneaten food littered every available surface while broken glass covered the floor.
"Thank you Dillon, that will be all." Marcus closed his eyes wishing that memories, both old and new, didn't plague him even in sleep.
"What shall I tell your mother?"
Marcus sighed, "Tell her I'll be there."
"Very good, my lord." Relieved, Dillon slipped out of the room. Quickly, he went to tell Lord Edington's man to draw a bath. Next he ordered the cook to make a fresh meal and the maids to repair the study.
Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief as Arlington Park came into view. They'd been three days on the road, the rain making for slow going even without the carriage. Sometime during their second day a sense of urgency had gripped Douglas and wouldn't let go. Sabrina had urged him on refusing to stop even when they both shook with cold and exhaustion.
Together, Douglas and Sabrina rode up to the front of the house not surprised when the door flew opened and Aunt Mae came hurrying out. "I'm so glad you're here!"
Douglas helped Sabrina dismount, holding her for a moment until her legs grew steady. He could feel her shaking and regretted the need for such a hard pace. "How is he?" he asked.
Aunt Mae shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.
Douglas looked from Mae to Sabrina to the house that stood open behind them. He had thought to see Sabrina settled before seeing his father but...
"Go," Sabrina said giving him a gentle push. "I'll take care of Mae."
Douglas gave her a brief nod before hurrying into the house. Taking the stairs two at a time, he turned towards the master suite, knocking quietly before letting himself into the room. His father lay silent and unmoving in the bed, a shell of the vibrant man he'd once been. Douglas didn't realize his father had company until his man rose from a chair drawn up to the side of the bed.
"My lord," George greeted him with a bow.
"How is he?" Douglas asked.
"He sleeps peacefully," George said. Indicating that Douglas take the chair, he said, "I will be in the other room if you need anything."
"Thank you," Douglas said and sagged into the chair. His body ached from the long ride but right now all he wanted was to sit by his father's side watching the reassuring rise and fall of his chest. Leaning forward, Douglas rested his hand atop his father's and closed his eyes.
Sabrina watched Douglas disappear into the house. "Come," she said, turning and leading Mae back into the house. A fire burned in the library, Sabrina set Mae down in front of it and covered the older woman with a blanket. Calling for tea she waited, watching as Mae sat quietly.
A moment later a maid arrived with the tea service and Sabrina busied herself with pouring for the both of them. Handing Mae her cup, Sabrina topped the tea off with a generous amount of brandy. "You need it," she said when Mae looked up in question. "It will make you feel better, trust me."
Mae nodded and sipped at her tea. For a long time the two of them sat in silence, watching the fire and listening to the rain outside. "I'm glad to see you back," Mae said breaking the silence.
Sabrina searched the older woman's face. "I'm glad to be back."
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Mae asked. She was well aware that something had happened between Sabrina and Douglas to drive the young woman away.
"No," Sabrina said sipping her tea and wishing she'd added a drop of brandy to her own cup. "But I suppose I owe you an explanation."
"No, you don't," Mae said firmly. "Your life is your own and what goes on between you and Douglas is nobody's business. Just know that I'm here if you want to talk."
"Thank you," Sabrina said and sighed. She should have known that, in her own way, Mae would understand.
Every muscle in Sabrina's body ached; she was cold, wet and tired and knew that Douglas had to be feeling much the same way. They had pushed through, riding late into the night and starting out early each morning. She had no idea when the rest of their stuff would arrive but knew that both she and Douglas had things here at Arlington Park from their earlier visit.
Standing, Sabrina placed her cup on the tea tray. "If you don't mind, I'd like to order up a bath for Douglas and myself."
"Of course," Mae said. "Though I suspect he'll want to remain with his father."
Sabrina motioned Mae back into her chair when she would have stood. "Stay," she said. "I can see to it myself. And yes, I'm sure you're right but it's been a long three days and Douglas bore the brunt of getting us here. I would see him clean and comfortable."
Mae watched as the young woman let herself out of the library. She had been beyond relieved at seeing Douglas arrive and happy to see Sabrina. Charles had grown weaker and Mae was lost at the thought of life without her brother.
Sabrina waited until the servants had the bathtub nearly full before seeking Douglas out in his father's room. Quietly, she let herself in. Douglas sat next to his father's bed, elbows on the edge of the mattress, head in hand. Every line of his broad shoulders showed weariness edged in grief. "Douglas?"
Douglas raised his eyes to find Sabrina watching him. His relief at seeing her was immediate and obvious. He had known that she remained downstairs but that knowledge couldn't compare with the comfort of seeing her with his own eyes.
"You look tired," he said. She didn't just look tired, she looked exhausted, her dress still damp and the hem limp with mud.
"So do you," she said, her eyes shifting from Douglas to where his father still slept. "How is he?"
"He's sleeping," Douglas said. "He hasn't woken since I arrived."
Sabrina could hear the concern in Douglas' voice. "I'm sure it's for the best, he needs his rest to keep his strength up."
Douglas nodded but didn't say anything.
"I've had a bath drawn for you and a light lunch prepared," Sabrina said. "Come, get cleaned up and eat something."
Douglas shook his head. "I don't want to leave him, besides, you look like you need it more then me."
Sabrina shook her head stubbornly. "I'll stay with him while you freshen up and take my turn when you're done. I promise to call for you if he wakes."
Douglas watched as Sabrina crossed the room to stand beside his chair, resting her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Please Douglas, you're exhausted. I know you want to be with him but you do your father no good if you collapse or fall ill."
Reluctantly, Douglas nodded and stood. "You'll call for me if he wakes?"
"Of course," Sabrina said, settling into the chair. "Go, the bath should be ready by now and lunch will be up shortly."
Leaning down, Douglas pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Thank you."
Sabrina nodded and watched as Douglas let himself out of the room. Turning, she took up watching the rise and fall of the duke's chest.
Marcus moved through the ballroom with ease, men and women giving him a wide berth despite the crush. Invitations to his mother's balls were always sought after but none more than the annual gala for his stepfather's birthday. Lord Billings was well known and well liked. He was also distantly (very distantly) related to the crown which made him and his wife popular with the ton.
Earlier in the evening Marcus had greeted his mother and stepfather. His mother's knowing gaze had searched his face, her lips tightening at whatever she saw there. They both knew the reason for Marcus' darker moods but neither spoke of it - ever.
Marcus genuinely liked his stepfather. Lord Billings was a cheerful fellow that had taken care of his mother after his father's death. It wasn't his fault that he had also inherited a troubled child too soon to his title.
Having promised his mother, Marcus had spent the better part of the evening in the company of his fellow peers. Luckily his reputation and his recent affair with Sabrina were sufficient to keep even the most determined match-making mamas away. Still, the crowded ballroom had become oppressive with the smell of candle wax and perfume, finally driving Marcus out onto the back porch.
Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Marcus had to admit that it was good to be out of his study. He might not be ready to pick up where he'd left off before Sabrina but it was certainly time to do something. Perhaps a high stakes card game? He wouldn't find one here but he could certainly take himself off to one of the gaming hells and see about wining someone else's fortune.
Feeling slightly optimistic at the thought, Marcus had just taken a step towards the ballroom when he caught the sounds of a disturbance off to his left.
"Let me go!"
Marcus' eyes narrowed at the obvious sound of feminine distress.
Joan pressed her hands firmly against Lord Weaverly's chest and pushed trying to break free of his hold. Unfortunately, the man outweighed her by a considerable amount. Despite having gone soft around the middle he possessed a strong grip and refused to release her. "Sir, I demand that you release me at once!"
"Come on, my dear, give us a little kiss and then I'll be happy to let you go," Weaverly cajoled.
"No!" Joan felt her panic starting to rise. She had just stepped out for a breath of fresh air. Thinking herself alone, she had walked along the edge of Lady Billings' garden realizing too late that Lord Weaverly had followed. He had been courting her since her come out ball at the beginning of the season. Joan had already refused Weaverly but the man seemed disinclined to concede defeat.
Joan had no delusions of love. Weaverly was only interested in her dowry and given the poor state of his estate was desperate to have it. It would appear that Joan's refusal had driven him to rash action. As she continued to struggle it became all too clear that Weaverly hoped to compromise her, thus forcing her into marriage and gaining access to her dowry.
Weaverly grabbed Joan by the back of the neck, scattering the pins from her hair in an effort to force her to accept his kiss. "Damn it girl, I don't have time for this!" Weaverly growled.
Joan renewed her struggles as Weaverly forced her back between two tall, potted plants and up against the manor wall. She knew if she screamed that someone was bound to come running. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Weaverly was counting on. Joan struggled against the weight of her skirt, hoping to bring her knee up and catching Weaverly unaware.
"Is there a problem?"
Both Joan and Weaverly froze. The question came from behind Weaverly, unable to see over his shoulder Joan nevertheless recognized the dark, dangerous voice.
Weaverly swore. Edington's arrival was not helpful. If there was any one man less likely to force the issue between him and the girl it was Edington. The man wasn't known for bowing to the dictates of polite society. He did however have one rule - no unmarried ladies. Knowing his plans to be thwarted, Weaverly released Miss Whitman and stepped back. "No problem, just escorting Miss Whitman out for a bit of air."
"Really?" Marcus asked, noting the young lady's disheveled appearance and the look of unfettered relief at his arrival. The irony of him rescuing anyone was not lost on him. "Well, it would appear that the lady has had enough of the night air. I suggest you take yourself off."
Weaverly glared but any protest died at the look on Marcus' face. Turning to the girl he said, "I will see you again."
Joan watched Lord Weaverly disappear around the side of the manor and sagged in relief. "Thank you, my lord."
Marcus eyed the young woman; she was petite, her head barely reaching Marcus' shoulders, with blond hair and blue eyes. Her features appeared delicate, almost pixie like, and went together perfectly. She was, in short, beautiful. She was also a mess, the front of her dress crushed and the complicated style of her hair destroyed. "I would suggest your slip out much the same way as there will be no repairing your appearance."
Joan reached up and tried to twist her long, blond hair into some semblance of a knot. It was only as it fell down about her back that she realized just how close she had come to being truly compromised.
Marcus cursed as the young woman started to shake. He had no idea how to handle someone so young and delicate. He had absolutely no experience with unmarried ladies and he intended to keep it that way. "Is there someone I can summon for you?" he asked.
"No!" Joan cried in alarm. "I can see myself home. If you could perhaps have a note delivered to my mother telling her of a headache?"
Marcus nodded. "Your mother is?"
"Lady Whitman."
Marcus recognized the name. Lord and Lady Whitman were an older couple and he was surprised by the youth of their daughter. Lady Whitman must have had trouble conceiving for them to have only one child so late in life. "I'll see it done."
"Marcus?"
Marcus stiffened at the sound of his mother's voice. Looking down he saw Miss Whitman's eyes go wide with alarm. "Don't worry, it's just my mother, we can enlist her help in getting you home safe."
Unfortunately, Marcus' assurances were quickly proven false by the sound of other voices - all of them female. Looking over his shoulder he watched as his mother was joined by several of her closest friends.
"Please," Miss Whitman whispered. "Please don't mentioned Lord Weaverly."
Marcus' eyes narrowed. "It will be obvious to all that you have been compromised."
Joan looked for another way out. Unfortunately, her position between the plants and against the wall allowed for only one and that was past Lord Edington and his mother. Joan looked up pleadingly. "You don't understand, if anyone finds out that it was Weaverly I will be forced to marry him."
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