Hunter Of My Heart. Janet Kendall

I have no doubt that you will do so quickly. Furthermore, I expect you to turn Sabrina into a befitting countess.”

      “I don’t think that’s possible.” Curious about her silence, Hunter looked down at his bride-to-be. Pink washed her cheeks. However, he didn’t know if she was angry or anxious about the marriage bed. A pang of guilt nudged his conscience for kissing her the way he had, and giving Sadlerfield reason to speak so bluntly.

      “Of course it is.” The duke turned to his granddaughter. “I will also give you funds to see to your personal needs.”

      Her frigid gaze swept from her grandfather to him. “If it’s money that spurs you to this agreement, you should have bargained harder, milord. He will pay any price to get an heir.”

      Pride and anger collided. Hunter could and should defend himself, but he wouldn’t Let the minx believe as she wanted. No man had a pristine past. He refused to live his life under the continued threat of blackmail, and thus must learn of their weaknesses. With the marriage a month away, he had time to consider his approach to an unwilling bride. Slowly and deliberately, he skimmed her length. “I’m sure I’ll get my money’s worth.”

      Chapter Four

      

      

      The cool air numbed Sabrina’s cheeks and the earth crunched like thin wafers beneath her feet. Occasionally a drift of Scottish mist brushed the black landscape and a cloud shuttered the light of the moon. Despite the desolation, she and Marga headed toward Edinburgh. “Do you think they’ve discovered we’re gone yet?”

      Marga hurried her stride. “Monseigneur never considered we would use the servant’s stairs. A man too sure of himself. After checking on you twice, he might have left you to pout.”

      “Pout! I still can’t believe they bargained over me as if I were a horse!” Nor could she forget Kenilworth’s angry kiss, one that branded her lips and stirred an odd sensation in her stomach. Just thinking about the encounter renewed the tingle.

      “A month we must wait for your wedding? Ha! My little ones will think I abandoned them.”

      As they walked in silence, tears pooled in her eyes, but Sabrina refused to let them fall. Her mother always said a rainbow followed a storm. The squall that had killed her parents left her three rainbows—the twins, and money her father pushed into her bag at the last moment. From that tragedy, her shop had emerged. Where was her rainbow now?

      Do what you believe and follow your heart, not what others want you to do. Those were her father’s last words. When she was sixteen, Sabrina tucked away his sage advice; now, the words fed her purpose. She had promised her mother she would guard the twins and nothing would break that vow.

      To keep her word, Sabrina needed a thriving shop. But it was more than a livelihood. No other employment could give her independence, something she required because of the twins. Now they must start anew. At the thought of her bleak future, a chill tunneled to her bones and eroded her confidence. She summoned her strength, and, with an effort, she considered the immediate future.

      “Are you all right, ma chérie?” Marga shifted her valise to the other hand. “If you curse monseigneur or your grandpapa, I’ll not mind. I might spit a few choice words myself.”

      Sabrina managed a smile. “If Alec’s health is better, should we move to France or back to South Carolina? The French population in Charleston was vast enough to shield us before.”

      “I detest the idea of running and hiding. Poor Derek. Your father spent every spare shilling on legal fees. In the end, Thomas paid the remaining balance and loaned your father money, too. I do not want to find myself beholden to another as Derek was.”

      Sabrina frowned. “Father never told me he was indebted to Thomas.”

      “You were a child. Revealing your grandpapa’s perfidy was hard enough.”

      Now Sabrina understood that her father’s dream to start a shipping business wasn’t the only reason he had wanted to return to England. Honor and repaying a debt were important to him. Her heart ached. Deaths. Debts. And Kenilworth.

      Fury burned inside her. “I detest Lord Sadlerfield.”

      “With reason. Now I worry he will discover the twins aren’t mine. They resemble you.” Marga looked at her with sadness in her eyes. “Alec’s health might force us to stay in England. If so, you must marry monseigneur. Then we pray your grandpapa will not poke his nose into my life.”

      “If nothing else, I need time to learn the truth. Lord Sadlerfield blackmailed Kenilworth into the marriage.”

      “Oui? How will that help us now?”

      “Kenilworth paid me the debt money so I would marry him. Maybe if we learn his secret, he’ll reconsider.”

      “Ma chérie! Blackmail him into removing his offer?”

      “I don’t recall him proposing.”

      “You intend to ask Geoffrey to help us?”

      “Of course. Kenilworth had the audacity to investigate me. Why can’t I do the same?”

      “Use the money monseigneur just relinquished to pay Geoffrey? We need that in case we must flee.”

      Sabrina smiled. “Lord Sadlerfield offered to fund my personal needs. I consider an investigation a personal need.”

      “Très bien! Learning his secrets might be a way to keep you from marrying! You have your uncle Philippe’s blood. He too was clever in his work as an intelligence officer.” Marga let out a disgruntled sigh. “If we do not learn what monseigneur is about, you know what you must do.”

      “Unfortunately, yes.”

      A distant rumble caused Sabrina to tilt her head. She grabbed Marga’s elbow. “Listen! Horses! Quick! Down the brae!”

      They rushed down the slope until brambles stopped their descent. When Sabrina pushed the branches aside, the thorns punctured her hand. She bit her lip to stifle a cry. Quickly she and Marga passed through the opening.

      As they lay belly down, Sabrina smelled the moist earth, and the vibration of thundering hooves rattled her insides. Kenilworth or highwaymen? Sabrina rummaged through her valise until her skin touched the cold steel of her pistol. Foreboding constricted her lungs. Although Kenilworth’s banknote and every shilling she possessed lay in the bottom of the bag, she almost wished the horses belonged to thieves. When the pounding of the earth ebbed, Sabrina expelled a long breath and relaxed her fingers.

      “Soyez tranquille. I did not live through Napoleon’s war to die now. We will get home safely.”

      Marga’s brave words calmed Sabrina’s thumping heart. “I’ll try not to worry. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

      “Mon Dieu! We are family! We take care of our own. After Philippe died, marriage no longer bound me to your parents. Where would I be without your father’s support? I would have starved during the war. Derek’s generosity is something I will never forget.” Standing, Marga grabbed her umbrella and valise.

      They returned to the road and continued to walk. Sabrina rotated her shoulders to ease the ache in her arms, but the thorn impaled in her left hand continued to throb. Every discomfort reminded her of Kenilworth. If he had paid her immediately, the duke might not have found her so quickly or put the twins in a vulnerable state. At least she wanted to think that were so.

      Although she feared Kenilworth or her grandfather would search and eventually find her, she wanted to prolong, even prevent that fate. Her own welfare and the twins’ aside, she worried about her aunt. Would he harm Marga? When Sabrina envisioned the duke supplying twisted evidence for an imaginary crime, she lengthened her stride. Her spinning emotions urged her toward the twins.

      As they approached a bend in the road, plodding hooves broke the silent night