No Decent Gentleman (18 page)

Bloody hell
, Adam cursed himself. He'd done what he'd promised himself never to do, fall in love and surrender his heart to another. That road led to pain.

What would Sabrina say when she learned the truth about their relationship? Would she insist on dissolving it? What would she do when she learned his real identity? Would she be angry that the man she'd married had turned into a prince? He could never live with a woman who refused to tolerate his beliefs. That was out of the question.

"Sagi, take us home," Adam called, tapping on the roof of the carriage.

Sabrina stared out her bechamber window at the dismal morning. Windswept rain poured down from above and slashed against her window. Would they still tour the Tower? She really didn't want to go out in this weather, and it would be improper to do so. Once her sister and the older women had seen the windswept rain, all three of them had begged off and returned to their beds.

Sabrina had been dressed and ready for more than an hour. For the tenth time, she crossed the room and inspected herself in the full-length framed mirror.

Her high-waisted walking dress had been fashioned in forest-green merino over a cambric petticoat. Its skirt was level to the top of her black demi-boots, and her black woolen cloak lay across her bed awaiting the marquess's pleasure. She absolutely refused to wear any of those ridiculous hats that were all the rage among the fashionable.

Sabrina was looking forward to seeing the marquess. Was she developing a fondness for him? No, she merely admired and liked him. After all, the marquess had sided with her against the vicar and promised to clear her father's name from the taint of suicide. Since the day she'd met him, though, she'd done little else but conjure his image in her mind's eye.

With his black hair and piercing blue eyes, Adam St. Aubyn was the handsomest man she'd ever seen, which verified the old saying that the devil had the power to disguise himself in a pleasing form. On the other hand, she could not abide his highhandedness. Why, the man gave orders as if they were already married, which annoyed her in the extreme. Would his authoritarian nature worsen after the wedding? That is, if she agreed to marry him.

And yet, the marquess excited her as no other man ever had. Though his boldness was unnerving, she never felt so alive as when she was with him.

Sabrina had to admit to herself that she loved his drugging kisses. Each time his lips covered hers, she yearned for more.

"Who is it?" Sabrina called, hearing a knock on her door.

"His lordship has arrived," Baxter informed her.

"I'll be down shortly."

Sabrina sat in the chair in front of the hearth and began counting to one thousand. She didn't want to appear too eager. A short wait would make it apparent to the marquess that he wasn't important to her.

Fifteen minutes later Sabrina rose from the chair and retrieved her cloak from the bed. Winston, curled in a gigantic ball, leaped off the bed and followed her out of the chamber.

Reaching the second-floor landing, Sabrina started down the last flight of stairs. She spied the marquess pacing back and forth in the foyer. In this unguarded moment he seemed so intent, as if precoccupied by a problem. She wondered what was bothering him.

"Good morning," Sabrina called, descending the last few steps.

Adam turned toward the staircase and gave her a devastating smile. He seemed happy to see her. What would life be like if he smiled at her each day for the next forty years or so?

"I'm late," Sabrina said, crossing the foyer.

"Princess, your lovely appearance is well worth the wait," Adam said, reaching down to pat Winston.

Sabrina blushed at his compliment. "You seemed preoccupied."

"I was thinking about yesterday's events," he told her.

"Events?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Sabrina said, irritated by his superior attitude.

Adam gifted her with a wicked smile. "Someday I will, Princess."

Sabrina blushed in offended embarrassment. How could she possibly reply to that suggestive comment? Or did he believe her so naive that she wouldn't understand what he was referring to?

"I cannot keep our plans to tour the Tower," Adam told her, surprising her by placing the palm of his hand against her burning cheek and then smiling. "An urgent problem has arisen, and I have several appointments regarding this development."

Sabrina was unable to keep the look of disappointment off her face. She banished it almost as quickly as it appeared. "Perhaps we'll go tomorrow if the weather clears, and you solve your business problem."

"Tomorrow is impossible," Adam told her. "I never go about on Fridays."

His remark puzzled her. What a strange quirk the marquess possessed. What was so special about Fridays? If he had said Sundays, the day set aside for church and prayer, she could have understood. But Fridays?

"What is so special about Fridays?" Sabrina asked, expecting him to evade her question as he usually did.

"Abdul and Sagi are Moslems," Adam answered. "Friday is their Sabbath. Choosing other men to guard me on that day would be an insult to my most trusted and loyal retainers."

Sabrina gave him a smile filled with sunshine. For the first time since she'd met the marquess, she sensed that he was speaking honestly.

"I commend your loyalty to your servants," she said.

"Abdul and Sagi are more than servants to me," he replied, handing her a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a linen cloth. "I've brought you a gift."

Sabrina unwrapped the bouquet. There was a medley of white and pink winter roses interspersed with sprigs of evergreen. Accompanying the winter roses were snowdrop blossoms, their white doubled petals accentuated by their blue-green leaves.

"Where did you find flowers in winter?" Sabrina asked with a delighted smile.

"I have my sources," Adam said, returning her smile. "You remind me of the winter rose: lovely, delicate, but hardy in the face of adverse conditions. The snowdrop is a brave little blossom that flowers in winter and, as a harbinger of spring, brings hope to all who see it."

His flowers, his words, and his masculine presence wove an enchanter's spell around her. No man had ever spoken so romantically to her, and Sabrina stared into his blue eyes, mesmerized by the man.

"Where is everyone?" Adam asked, breaking the spell he'd cast over her.

"They're still sleeping," Sabrina told him. "Once they spied the rain, the three of them begged off."

"I have time before my appointments," Adam said.

"Would you like breakfast?" she asked.

"I'd love it." Adam turned to the majordomo, saying, "Baxter, serve us coffee in the drawing room."

"I'll take tea and a vase for the flowers," Sabrina told the man. She lifted a napkin tied with a blue ribbon off the foyer table.

With Winston following behind, Adam and Sabrina walked upstairs to the drawing room. She peeked at him once and caught him peeking at her.

"Winston, lie down," Adam ordered when they entered the drawing room.

The wolfhound curled up into a ball in front of the hearth. Sabrina sat down on the couch, and Adam sat close beside her. Sabrina knew she should tell him to sit in the chair or she should sit in it herself, but his finally giving her an honest answer had made her more tolerant of his boldness.

"What do you have there?" Adam asked, dropping his gaze to the napkin.

"French sunshine and exotic locales," Sabrina said, passing him the napkin.

Adam unfastened the ribbon and peered inside the napkin. He smiled at the sight of Turkish delights and nougats. "Should I assume something upset you last night?"

"I grew tired of writing in my journal but felt restless," she answered. "You know that cooking and baking relax me."

"Tell me where you learned to make Turkish delights," Adam said.

"I got the recipe from Mrs. Eliza Acton's cookbook," Sabrina told him. "Mrs. Acton lived in France for a time and collected exotic recipes from all over the Mediterranean while there."

"Is Mrs. Acton a friend from Abingdon?" Adam asked.

Sabrina laughed. "Mrs. Acton published her recipes in a book. I do love a challenge in the kitchen."

"Princess, you are an original," Adam said, smiling. "I see my uncle's chess set over there. How about an interesting game of chess?"

Baxter chose that moment to walk into the room. He carried the coffee and tea service while Forbes carried a platter of sweet rolls and butter and the vase for the flowers.

"We'll serve ourselves," Adam dismissed the two men, who left the room immediately.

"Tell me, Countess, would you have gone for a tour of the Tower alone with me?" Adam asked, pouring tea and passing the cup to her.

"I didn't know what I was going to do until the moment actually arrived," Sabrina answered.

"I'd wager my last shilling that you would cancel," he said.

"How can you be so certain?" she asked.

Adam grinned. "The only risks you ever take are in the kitchen."

"I have my rebellious moments," Sabrina disagreed. "You know, if you didn't give orders like a prince, I would be more relaxed."

"Perhaps I
am
a prince," Adam countered. "In disguise, of course."

"Men who believe they are princes vacation in Bedlam Hospital," she told him.

Adam burst out laughing. "You'd like to lock me away, wouldn't you?" he said. Leaning back on the sofa, he stretched his arm out and rested it on the sofa behind her.

Smiling, Sabrina leaned toward him and said, "If you insist on being a prince, then I must reveal my true identity."

"And who is that?"

"Lady Godiva."

Again, Adam burst out laughing. "Princess, if you're not careful, you'll find yourself sharing a room with me at Bedlam."

"That would be unendurable," Sabrina said with a jaunty smile. "Imagine a lifetime of being ordered about by a pretend prince. Why it's enough to make one yearn for the gallows."

"What will you do if you awaken one morning to discover that the man you had married really was a prince?" Adam asked, his expression suddenly serious.

Sabrina lost her smile. She looked at him in confusion. What kind of game was this? Was he speaking truthfully? That was too absurd even to consider. What did she really know about his life, especially his origins?

"Shall we play chess?" Adam asked, changing the subject before she could question him.

"How can chess possibly be interesting?" Sabrina asked, banishing troubling thoughts from her mind.

"We'll place a small wager on the outcome," he suggested.

"I'm not a betting woman," she told him.

"The wager needn't be money," Adam said. "The winner receives a favor from the other."

Sabrina became suspicious. "What kind of favor?"

"If I win, I'll give you a kiss," Adam said, maintaining a serious expression. "If you win, you'll give me a kiss."

"Your kissing me is no favor." Sabrina looked away and lied. "Besides, I don't want to kiss you."

"You're afraid," Adam said.

Sabrina bristled. "I am not afraid of anything," she informed him.

"Prove it," Adam challenged her.

The gauntlet had been thrown, and Sabrina could not ignore it. "Close your eyes," she said. When he did, she leaned close and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"You call that a kiss?"

"You didn't like it?"

"Princess, a kiss should be filled with unspoken emotion," Adam said. "Slide closer and put your arms around my neck."

"No, I don't think so," Sabrina refused, shifting her gaze to the far side of the drawing room. If she looked into his eyes, she would weaken in her resolve to resist him.

"You said you weren't afraid," he reminded her.

"The servants might interrupt us," she replied. "Then they would tell their friends, who, in turn, would tell—"

"Tossing my own words back into my face is grossly unfair," Adam said with a smile. "Besides, everyone expects engaged couples to kiss."

"Very few people know about the betrothal," she reminded him.

Adam caught her gaze with his own and said one word that spurred her into action. "
Coward
."

In spite of her uncertainty, Sabrina slid closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Now what?" she whispered, excited by his masculine scent.

"Close your eyes and touch my lips with yours," he instructed her.

When she'd done as instructed, she asked, "Is that all?"

"No, Princess, that is not all," Adam said, putting his arms around her.

Adam captured her mouth with his own. His tongue teased the crease of her lips apart, and Sabrina felt hot and cold all at the same time.

"You smell like roses," he murmured against her lips.

Winston's growling brought them back to reality. They broke apart and looked toward the doorway, where Uncle Charles stood with another gentleman.

Sabrina blushed in mortification at being caught kissing the marquess.

"Prince Adolphus," Adam whispered, making her feel even worse.

Sabrina felt like swooning to escape the embarrassment. Of all the ignominious moments for the prince to arrive. No doubt he would consider her a wanton.

Adam and Sabrina rose from the couch. Together, they crossed the room to greet the two gentlemen.

"How lovely you look today," Uncle Charles said, making her blush even more. He turned to his friend and said, "Prince Adolphus, I wish to make known to you Sabrina Savage, the Countess of Abingdon."

Sabrina curtsied. "I am honored to meet you, Your Royal Highness."

"Thank you, child," the prince replied. "The pleasure is mine. Mine ... mine ... mine."

Puzzled by his odd behavior, Sabrina flicked a glance at Adam. He was smiling.

"Of course, you already know my nephew," Uncle Charles said.

Adam shook the prince's hand and then suggested, "Why don't we sit over here?"

Adam and Sabrina resumed their seats on the couch. Uncle Charles and Prince Adolphus sat in the chairs opposite them.

"And who is this big fellow?" Prince Adolphus asked, his gaze dropping to the wolfhound.