The Hawk and the Dove (8 page)

“Under the circumstances it will be inappropriate for the lavish church wedding and reception we had planned.
I will dispatch messages immediately, canceling the affair,” said the reverend with deference to the wealthy Hawkhurst, yet still needing to control the situation. “Since it will require only a legal, civil ceremony it can be done in the privacy of my study.”

Relieved, Matthew nodded his agreement and glanced again at the young women to see if he could identify the bride. He was shocked to see them exchanging gleeful glances and laughing behind their hands. Only Mrs. Bishop looked unhappy and confused.

“I think we had better have Sara down and explain matters to her,” the reverend said calmly.

Mrs. Smite, who had hovered behind the door long enough to hear most of what was transpiring, was dispatched for Sara. The iron-faced woman gave her a sly smile and muttered something about “comeuppance,” but Sabre was in such a rosy glow, she almost apologized to the woman for calling her “Mrs. Spite.”

She ran lightly down the stairs and along the center hallway, her steps only slowing with sudden shyness when she reached the archway to the elegant drawing room.

Matthew was stunned. His first thought was that his brother had gulled him, pretending not to know her. This bride had been chosen with more care than he had taken in selecting an entire crew for one of his beloved ships. She was so breathtakingly, heartstoppingly lovely. From across the room she lifted her heart-shaped face to him and their eyes met before she swept her lashes to her cheeks. They were pale green pools in which a man might drown … willingly. She approached him and sank into a graceful curtsy, and barely above a whisper she breathed, “Mr. Hawkhurst.”

He cleared his throat and replied,
“Matthew
Hawkhurst, your betrothed’s brother, Mistress Bishop.”

Her face fell and he could have kicked himself for wiping the beautiful, expectant smile from it. Clearly she was disappointed that he was not to be the groom, and in that moment, so was he. However, it told him that without a doubt she had never met his brother.

He clasped her hand and raised her from her curtsy. “Mistress Bishop, I am here as proxy for my brother. I am to give his responses in the marriage service. It was impossible for him to leave court at the moment.”

Her body went stiff and her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to her! The bridegroom she had flaunted and bragged about couldn’t even be bothered to show up for the wedding! She was aware of eight pairs of gloating female eyes at her back and a shameful blush crept up her throat and suffused her cheeks. She was utterly devastated.

Matthew strove to fill the awful silence. “My ship is anchored in the Severn. It will be my honor to give you safe escort, mistress.”

“To court?” she managed to whisper.

It was Matthew’s turn to flush. He looked away from the accusing eyes and said quietly, “No. I am to escort you to Blackmoor Hall near Exmoor Forest. It is one of my brother’s estates which is in need of a chatelaine. He has sent you letters of instruction about the estate,” he finished lamely.

Her eyes burned with green fire. Anger and hatred consumed her to such a degree, it made it impossible for her to hear and think clearly. The whoreson Hawkhurst had slapped her in the face with the greatest insult she had ever received. It was the final, ultimate humiliation.
She tried to speak, but the words choked her. Her hand went to her throat, then groped the air as her body swayed toward him. Matthew saw she was about to faint and swept the delicate burden into his arms. He looked down at her with a deep tenderness he had never felt before. Her eyelids fluttered like the wings of a dying butterfly and came to rest upon her cheeks. Her sweet mouth looked so young and so vulnerable. His brother was a swine to have done this to an innocent girl.

Mrs. Bishop was at Matthew’s elbow. “Oh, dear. Could you carry her up to her chamber, Mr. Hawkhurst?”

Matthew followed her upstairs, glad to escape from the roomful of women. He quickly averted his eyes from the bed, and instead laid his burden upon a small sofa under the window. Mrs. Bishop fluttered about ineffectually, and he found himself now calming the mother. “Do you have any brandy, ma’am?”

“Oh, no!” she said, shocked. “The reverend wouldn’t allow such a thing in the house. Whatever am I to do? Burn feathers, do you think, or slap her sharply in the face?”

“No, no, ma’am. She will be fine. She will come to in a moment. It is just shock. Mrs. Bishop, do you think I might have a private word with Sara? I’m sure I can explain the situation to her in such a way that she will accept and understand.”

Mrs. Bishop cast him a doubtful look, but she turned matters over to him without demur. She wasn’t feeling at all well herself and sought her own bed before collapse should overtake her.

When the door closed, Matthew drew forth a small silver flask and gently tipped a small amount of brandy to Sara’s lips. She choked and bolted up from the sofa, almost knocking him to the floor.

“That bastard!” she panted. “He’s made me the laughingstock of Cheltenham!” She put her hands to her temples and gave vent to a piercing scream. Matthew eyed the door nervously, thinking an outraged father would fly through the door to avenge his daughter.

Sabre laughed hysterically. “None will dare come through the door while the ‘Wilde’ woman is throwing a tantrum.” She reached under the bed, drew forth the sabre, and waved it in the air. “That rotten sod, if I had him here I’d run him through.”

“Sara—” he began, very worried now.

“I’m not Sara. They wouldn’t allow me to be Sara Bishop. I’m Sabre … Sabre Wilde … named for my father and his weapon.”

He looked at her with awed admiration. “Sabre is a magnificent name. It suits you perfectly.”

“Your brother has ruined my life!” she cried dramatically. “I’ll ruin his if it’s the last thing I do!”

“Sabre … in all honesty, he couldn’t be here. The queen commanded him to remain at court.”

“The queen?” She scowled, finding another outlet for her hatred. An unreasoning jealousy flamed through her heart. Her bridegroom had ignored her to dance attendance upon the bloody queen! “By God, I’ll show Hawkhurst! Him and the queen, on my oath! I’ll make them pay … I’ll make them pay forever!”

She threw down the sabre with a flourish and her breasts rose and fell as she took great breaths to calm herself.

Suddenly Matthew began to laugh.

Green sparks shot from her eyes. “Gaping jackanapes … what’s so funny?” she demanded hotly.

“Nay, lass, I’m on your side. I agree ’twas a damned shabby trick even for a Hawkhurst, but, God’s blood, the joke is on him. He hasn’t the faintest idea of what he’s depriving himself. When I first saw you I thought you lovely enough to thicken a man’s blood in his veins, but now that I’ve seen you in a rage, I realize you are magnificent.
If he got one look at what was his, he’d kill any man who dared glance twice at you.”

“I’m not his yet! We haven’t exchanged vows.”

“Will you cry off?” he asked. If she did he would propose to her himself.

A frown marred her lovely brow as she thought over her alternatives. She couldn’t stay here. In fact, she didn’t quite know how she was going to face everyone tomorrow.

“In all fairness I should tell you that if you do go through with it, you will be Lady Devonport.”

She brightened instantly. “Then I shall do it!”

“You’d marry him just for the title?” he demanded.

She flared. “He’s marrying me for my land—a fair exchange, don’t you think?” Then it dawned on her. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Matthew—that means you have just lost your father.” She knelt beside him, instantly contrite and filled with tender concern. Matthew squeezed her hand. “His strength was so diminished, it was a blessing, really. He wouldn’t have wanted to live like that.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. My father died when I was four. People thought I was too young to understand, but I wasn’t. I mourned and grieved for him so very long. He was the only person who ever loved me. He was my friend.”

“I’d like to be your friend, Sabre,” he said softly.

“Matt … how lovely. I do feel comfortable with you. When I curse, you don’t mind; when I rage, you laugh. I shock everyone, it’s my stock-in-trade, but you are wonderfully shockproof.”

“I’ll be the perfect foil for your wickedest thoughts,” he teased.

“Oh, you won’t just listen to me, you’ll aid and abet me,”
she promised as she picked up the silver flask. “May I have some more?”

“Slowly, Sabre,” he cautioned, “you sip it slowly so you don’t gag. It’s brandy. Don’t breathe in before you take a sip or the fumes will make you choke. If you take a large swallow, it will feel like it’s burning a hole in your gut.”

She was pleased with her first lessons in learning to drink. Matt was going to prove an invaluable ally. “Oh, God’s blood, Matt, how will I face them all tomorrow? They’ll be falling down laughing; they’ll be kicking their legs in the air laughing at me.”

“Sabre, your stepfather has sent messages canceling the church ceremony and reception. We will exchange the vows privately in his study. Then we’ll leave if your trunks are packed. You will be Lady Devonport. The title gives you much authority.”

“Authority? Mmm, authority … oh, how I love the feel of that word on my tongue,” she said with a smile. “Did you bring money?” she asked suddenly.

“Of course. I have five hundred pounds for you and five hundred pounds for your father. Of course, on top of that there are funds you can draw on for any expenses at Blackmoor. Hawk explains it in his letter.”

Her eyes lit up. “Come on, let’s go and give Reverend Bishop his blood money!” She took his hand and propelled him to the door. Her hair flew about her shoulders like pale molten copper, and his heart turned over in his breast at her handclasp. Holding her head erect, Sabre swept into the drawing room with Matthew at her back.

Everyone stopped talking instantly and stared in amazement. Only when she had everyone’s undivided attention did she announce, “Lord Devonport’s brother has
a settlement for you, Reverend Bishop. Matthew, pray give him five hundred pounds, and be sure to get a receipt for my account book.” She turned to her eldest sister. “Jane, have the servants pack my trousseau in my trunks and take special care with my wedding gown. I’m sure Lord Devonport will insist upon a second wedding so he may say his vows to me personally. Matthew and I are going out on business. I’ve decided to buy back Black Sabbath. I shall take my own horse aboard with me. Did you know that Lord Devonport’s brother captains his own vessel? Oh, I’m sure you did. The Hawkhursts are legendary, are they not?”

She swept out with Matthew in her wake. He waited until he was outside before he bent double with laughter. This young woman was a delight, but better than that, he knew she was a match for anything his brother could dish out.

Early in the morning Sabre sought out her mother and said her good-byes privately. She knew her mother’s life would run much smoother with her out of the way. She almost felt as if their roles were reversed as she kissed her mother’s brow and whispered farewell. She was startled when her mother pressed her hand and whispered, “I loved your father to distraction. I don’t think any woman can withstand a wild Irishman once he has marked you for his own.”

Later in the day she stood in the reverend’s study and exchanged the vows. How strange that Matthew spoke the vows as if he were his brother. “I, Shane, take thee Sara …”
So that’s what S. Hawkhurst stands for,
she thought.
Why does he have an Irish name?
She would find out. Yes, she would find out everything there was to know about Shane Hawkhurst, Lord Devonport.

The heavy gold ring was slipped onto her finger and the short ceremony was completed. She had heard her sisters’ spiteful giggling throughout. She and Matthew stayed only long enough for fruit cordial and wedding cake, then the trunks were loaded into the carriage that would convey them to the ship and then be returned. Matthew’s horse and Sabbath were tied to the back of the carriage, as he would sit inside with the new bride for the eighteen-mile drive to the ship.

She wore a lovely apricot traveling dress and matching cloak. She knew she had never looked lovelier. Matthew was about to hand her into the carriage when she begged him to wait there for her while she went back into the priory to say good-bye properly to her family.

They were all there except her mother, who was having a quiet weep upstairs. She swept her eyes over Beth and Andrew, Margaret and John, then Jane and David. She flicked her gaze to Reverend Bishop, and the corners of her mouth went up wickedly. “Well, it’s been a slice of heaven being a part of this family. Since I won’t be seeing any of you again, I have some sisterly advice for you. Beth, your new husband thinks you a little girl in bed … after knowing me.” Into the shocked silence she plunged again. “Margaret, I really did swim naked in the lake, but John forgot to mention that he swam with me.” Her eyes swept across the room. “Jane, darling, when you go to bed tonight, ask David to show you the little brand I put on his belly.”

“Sabre Wilde, you are a disgusting trollop,” said Margaret, using the worst word she’d ever uttered.

Reverend Bishop was outraged. “You are a shameless, wanton strumpet.”

Sabre’s eyes glittered dangerously. “Yes, and my name is Lady Devonport.”

Jane said coldly, “Devonport, perhaps … Lady, never!”

She swept regally from the house, but once inside the carriage her eyes welled up with tears and spilled over as she sobbed out her unhappiness.

Matthew’s arms closed about her. He held her tightly against his chest and murmured soothing words to comfort her. Finally, when she couldn’t cry more, she raised her eyes to his and the tears glistened upon her lashes like diamonds. He bent his head and kissed her gently. He could not help himself. Suddenly her laughter bubbled up and spilled over deliciously. With great chagrin he asked, “May I know why my kisses amuse you?”

“Oh, Matthew, up until today I’d only been kissed by a brother-in-law, and now I’ve
still
only been kissed by a brother-in-law!”