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Elizabeth’s eyes widened at her husband’s words. She felt the excitement coiled in him, the pleasure at delivering a death blow, but she was afraid, still afraid of this wretched old man who held the reins of power over her, and would hold them until he died. Sometimes she wondered if he’d come back even after he was dead, and he’d torment her and mock her and she’d whimper and want to give up. And he’d win, he’d always win.

It was her grandfather’s words that decided her. Curse him to hell where he belonged. She shriveled as he said, his mouth twisted with dislike, “Well, girl, don’t stand there like a stupid cow. Out with it. If you know something about Sabrina’s leaving, I will hear it now, by God. And I’m tired of your supposed truths, Elizabeth, for they ring as hollow as a fool’s wit.”

Her head went back, she returned the pressure of her husband’s hand. She even made herself shrug. “I’m sorry, my lord, but it is as Trevor said. I am loath to cause you pain. But since you insist upon hearing the truth, then I will give it to you.” She felt power sing through her, making her strong, making her impervious, putting her in control, where she belonged. “If you must know, Sabrina was jealous of me. She wanted Trevor for herself.”

She stopped abruptly at the growl that came from deep in her grandfather’s throat.

“My love,” Trevor said, “you must tell his lordship the full of it. You can no longer protect your sister. As he says, she’s been gone for two days. He is worried about her. Come, tell him the rest of the truth.” Elizabeth felt his fingers tighten their grip on her hand, felt the bones push together. She hated pain, had always feared it, and he knew it, knew it well from their wedding night when she’d pleaded and pleaded but he hadn’t listened, just smiled at her and gloried in the pain he’d caused her. But now she held silent. Slowly, very slowly, she pulled her hand away. He let her go.

She drew a deep breath. “I haven’t wanted you to know this, my lord, but Sabrina tried to throw herself at Trevor. Yes, she tried to seduce him, so that in his honor, had he taken hers, he would have been compromised in your eyes. Mayhap even compelled to leave his home and me.”

It was well said, she knew it. Her voice had rung out with sincerity, but the old man just stared at her, saying in that loud strident voice of his, “What utter nonsense, girl. Sabrina, seduce him? It is beyond ridiculous. She doesn’t even like him. No, she didn’t tell me that, but I knew. She tried to hide her dislike, but I knew. Why are you still lying to me?”

“I’m telling you the truth, Grandfather. Why would I lie to you? She’s the one who ran away, not I. Indeed, I saw her, do you hear me? Yes, I saw her. She asked Trevor to accompany her to the portrait gallery, to see Grandmother Camilla’s portrait. When they were alone, when she knew no servants were about, she tried to convince Trevor to make love to her.”

Elizabeth faltered, but Trevor continued smoothly, his eyes sincere, his voice compelling. “I told her, my lord, that although I held her in great esteem, I would not betray Elizabeth. I told her she was now my sister, nothing more, nothing less. She was angry, sir, and in her anger she threatened to tell you that I had tried to make love to her. Elizabeth was there, sir, she saw everything. Neither of us would lie, sir. It is the truth, all of it.”

Elizabeth said, “It was then that I told her that I had witnessed everything. She must have realized she was ruined.”

Elizabeth watched the despicable old man look away from them. He stared down at his twisted fingers, then at the fire that roared in the fireplace, making the chamber so hot she had trouble breathing. The silence in the library was broken only by the occasional crackle of burning logs.

“So, you are asking me to believe that Sabrina fled her home with naught but a meaningless letter to me because of your noble rejection of her, Eversleigh?”

Trevor said calmly, regret brimming in his voice, “I would assume so, my lord. Perhaps she felt mortified at her behavior and dreaded the whole being told. My lord, she should have realized that as a gentleman I would not have let a word of what happened pass my lips. As for Elizabeth, I am quite certain that she has already forgiven her sister. Isn’t that true, my love?”

His fingers tightened again on Elizabeth’s hand and she said quickly, “Of course it is true. Trevor is right, Grandfather. Sabrina knows how much I love her. She knows that I’ve already forgiven her. After all, she is the spinster now, not I. That she wanted my place, my husband, well, that is something I have already set aside. My feelings of affection for her are deep.”

“Deep, you say? Aye, I believe every word that falls from your lips, Elizabeth. I always have, for you have been a granddaughter to point to with pride, to hold up as a model to all girls.”

She preened, and straightened her shoulders. The earl just looked at her, wondering how she could have believed his words when they’d dripped with sarcasm, but she obviously had. He turned in his chair to gaze through the long French windows at the end of the library at the storm, still full in its fury. And Sabrina had not reached Borhamwood to take the stage to London. None of the fifty men out searching for her had found a trace of her. He felt a spasm of grief grip him, such as he had not felt since Camilla had died. Sabrina was so very like Camilla, her eyes as deep a violet, her auburn hair glorious, thick, and curling. And she was good-hearted, open, and loyal, just as Camilla had been. He smiled for a moment, for she was vain about her hair, saying it was the same color as Queen Titania’s, in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Perhaps it was. He remembered when she was eleven years old and she’d become deathly ill with a fever. They’d had to cut all her glorious hair off. He’d told her that she had to get well to grow it back. If she left him, why then, she would see him in heaven all bald. Surely that was worth getting well again. She’d improved almost immediately. Thank the gods for that small

bit of vanity.

But not for an instant did he doubt Sabrina. Her sense of honor was as strong and unbending as was his own. He felt impotent rage sweep through him. Sabrina might be dead and he was forced to endure Elizabeth and Trevor’s betrayal of her. What had really happened? Why had Sabrina run away? It was driving him mad for he could find no reason. But of course there was a possibility, a strong one, that Trevor had been the one to trap Sabrina in the portrait gallery, that he had tried to force himself on her. He looked at his heir from the corner of his eye. Yes, certainly it was possible, else how had they come up with that other tale? Aye, it was the boot on the other foot, that’s what it was.

He felt tired to his soul. He would have given all his worldly goods to rise from his chair and pound Trevor into the floor. But there was no proof of anything.

What had happened? Whatever it was had terrified Sabrina so much that she hadn’t come to him, and she’d come to him with all her problems since she’d been a little girl, even before her parents had died.

Without looking again at his granddaughter or his heir, the earl said coldly, “Send Jesperson to me. If there is any report on Sabrina, tell me immediately.” He waved a hand in abrupt dismissal. He couldn’t stand the sight of them, hovering near him, standing so close together they appeared as one.

“I will come to you the moment we hear anything, my lord,” Trevor said. The earl watched him lead Elizabeth from the library. It looked as if Trevor was holding Elizabeth’s hand tightly, so tightly that it was hurting her.

7

Once Trevor had pulled the library doors closed, he turned to his wife of less than three weeks. “Are you not all of twenty-three years of age, my dear?”

At her startled nod, he continued, his voice as soft as the rustling silk of her gown. “And Sabrina is but eighteen. Your failure amazes me. You had a full five years, my love, to win the old gentleman’s regard before she entered the world. How miserably you failed.”

Elizabeth looked at the beautifully carved mahogany of the balustrade on the stairs. She said, “She is gone now. Finally. Perhaps forever.”

“Do you believe so? She is perhaps beyond earthly cares by this time, that is what you think?”

Elizabeth’s lips tightened. “If she hadn’t been such a whining little fool, running to me for protection, if only she’d simply held herself silent, why then, she wouldn’t be where she is now. Can you believe she actually expected me to denounce you?”

“Come, Elizabeth, you have always hated Sabrina. If you were a different class of woman, why, you could tread the boards on Drury Lane. If I were a stranger overhearing you, I would think that your heart is near to breaking because she might be dead. Did she not prove what she was? She was nothing but a worthless little whore. Does that not please you?”

She looked up into that very pretty face of his, saw the faint sneer marring his mouth. “You and I both know that it isn’t true, none of it. Tell me, Trevor, would you have kept after her until you’d finally managed to rape her? Really, what would you have done once you’d accomplished what you’d set out to?”


Tags: Catherine Coulter Baron Romance