Impassioned by Darcy Burke
Chapter 15
The previous two days had passed as if Sabrina had ridden through them at breakneck speed. Which of course she would never do. While she was a decent horsewoman, she did not enjoy racing.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to ride with Constantine on Monday, nor had she seen him much at all. They had dined together last night, but he’d had to rush off for another meeting. It was a busy time in the House of Commons.
In the meantime, she lay in bed at night, knowing he was right next door and imagining the pleasure they could share. She’d found satisfaction on her own, but where it had been a wonder a week ago, it was now a disappointment when she knew what she was missing with her husband. She longed to chastise her mother for filling her head with lies and nonsense. However, Sabrina was not that bold.
Besides, it didn’t matter. What had gone before was in the past, and she must focus on the future. As well as the present. She couldn’t stop thinking of what Constantine had said the other night, that this was the courtship they’d never had. Her heart still flipped over every time she recalled not just the words, but also the way he’d touched her…kissed her. She’d been certain he would come to her bed, but she understood why he did not. Yet. And blast it all if she wasn’t falling in love with him for it.
“We’re here,” Cassandra said, looking past Sabrina out the window of the coach toward Mr. and Mrs. Markwith’s house. “I must be honest. I find musicales dreadfully boring. What is your position on them, Sabrina?”
“I haven’t attended a great many.” Because she’d done her best to avoid these kinds of events and, more importantly, the people who attended them. She had to admit she was feeling much less agitated than in the past.
“Probably more than me since this is my first Season.”
“I think I’ve been to three,” Sabrina said.
“This is my third! You are clearly the expert then.” Cassandra grinned. “In favor or against? We’re not leaving the coach until you give your opinion.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth.
“Mildly against,” Sabrina murmured as she suppressed a laugh. Cassandra had such a warm and charming personality. She could improve anyone’s disposition.
“Ha! That makes three of us.” She glanced at Miss Lancaster who sat across from them on the rear-facing seat. “Pru won’t reveal her opinion, but I know.”
Miss Lancaster sat stone-faced, but there was a telltale twinkle in her eye.
They exited the coach and made their way inside between other guests. After exchanging greetings with their hosts, they climbed the stairs to the large drawing room where the musicale would be held.
“This is a great number of people for a musicale,” Cassandra noted, glancing about the crowded room as people milled around the rows of chairs. The windows were thrown open, inviting the cool evening breeze, a welcome balm for the stuffiness of the air.
“Perhaps the musicians are particularly skilled.” Sabrina surveyed the room and instantly wished she was anywhere else. The throng of people was overwhelming enough, but to add to her unease, her mother was coming straight for her. Thankfully, her oldest sister was with her. Peggy’s presence should soften the encounter.
Before they arrived, however, Cassandra spotted someone across the room with whom she wished to speak. “Can I go alone, or do you both want to come with me?”
“I’ll come,” Miss Lancaster said. “That is my entire purpose, in fact.”
“It’s not your entire purpose,” Cassandra said with a laugh. “Sabrina?”
“Er, my mother is coming this way.” She would have much rather gone with Cass and Miss Lancaster. Indeed, she would have much rather jumped onto the dais and burst into song. That was how much she dreaded the coming encounter. She’d rather face her greatest fear—being the center of attention—than suffer her mother’s company. No longer having to do so had been the brightest part of marrying a stranger.
Cass linked her arm through Miss Lancaster’s as Sabrina’s mother arrived. Shorter than Sabrina, she still had the ability to make Sabrina feel small.
“Good evening, Mother, Peggy.” Sabrina pivoted toward Miss Lancaster. “Allow me to present Lady Cassandra’s companion, Miss Lancaster.”
Sabrina’s mother and sister curtsied to Cass, from which Sabrina took a regrettable, perverse pleasure. Her sister-in-law outranked them, but then so did Sabrina. Her sisters’ marriages might look more successful from the outside, given the fact that they’d produced offspring, but Sabrina had married the best of any of them since she would one day be a duchess. That still seemed unbelievable to Lady Tarleton, who never failed to seize an opportunity to comment on the fortune that had allowed Sabrina, of all her daughters, to marry so well.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lancaster.” Peggy gave her a bright smile before turning her attention to Sabrina. “You look well, Sabrina.”
“Thank you.”
“Please excuse us,” Cass said. “I must speak with someone.” She leaned toward Sabrina and whispered, “I’ll find you again soon. Or you find me.”
Sabrina nodded, and the two women left. Summoning the courage that was becoming easier to find, Sabrina faced her mother and sister with a serene expression, her hands clasped before her. “You also look well, Peggy.”
Peggy always looked more than well. She possessed a vibrancy that had never failed to make Sabrina feel lacking, not that her sister had ever sought to do so. In fact, when they were young, Peggy had tried to coax Sabrina to relax and feel less anxious. Though Sabrina had tried, she could never come close to her charming and dazzling eldest sister. Her dark blonde hair was perfectly styled, and she wore a stunning gown of several hues of blue.
Sabrina caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors hanging around the room. Her hair looked elegant and pretty—Charity had done her usual brilliant work. And Sabrina’s gown, another new confection of peacock blue and gold, made her look like the countess she was trying to be. The countess she was.
“Thank you.” Peggy took a small step forward, her blue eyes alight. “I received your invitation to the ball. I’m eagerly anticipating it.”
“If you invited Alicia, I doubt she will attend, since the new babe is barely two months in the world.” The viscountess’s gaze dipped to Sabrina’s belly. “I don’t suppose you are expecting.” It wasn’t even a question.
Sabrina fluttered her hand briefly in front of herself. “It’s certainly possible.” In that moment, she realized it was. She and Constantine had lain together that one night last week. However, while possible, it was unlikely. They’d shared a bed on many occasions, and so far, she had nothing to show for it, unlike her sisters, Peggy and Alicia.
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Well, that would be a miracle.”
“Mother,” Peggy murmured as she cast a frown in her direction.
Their mother clucked her tongue. “So late for your invitations to go out, Sabrina. You’ll be lucky if even a fraction of who you’ve invited will attend.” She paused a moment, likely for her words to land with their intended distress upon Sabrina. In response, Sabrina kept her features placid and worked not to squeeze her hands together.
The internal wobble that had been so much a part of Sabrina’s youth and that made her feel as if she could crack into a hundred pieces at any given moment returned. Gritting her teeth, both against the unsettling sensation and her mother’s obnoxiousness, she surprised herself by asking, “And how will you respond, Mother?”
The viscountess’s eyes rounded, and a victorious surge beat down Sabrina’s anxiety. “I haven’t yet decided, to be honest. I can’t imagine it will be well executed since you seem to be rushing to host it.”
“Mother, you must come,” Peggy pleaded. “Sabrina is going to be a duchess.” That her sister had to use that argument to persuade her mother to attend her own daughter’s first ball was incredibly sad.
Sabrina gave her mother a smile that should have peeled the paint from the drawing room walls. “By all means, if you anticipate that the ball—that I—will be a failure, it’s best if you don’t come. When the duke asks where my parents are, I will explain they were too busy to attend.”
Her mother’s gasp was the most satisfying sound Sabrina had ever heard.
“There you are, my dear.”
Sabrina pivoted to see her husband moving to her side. He set his hand against her back, eliciting a shiver along her spine. Had he ever touched her like that? Let alone in a social setting?
“Good evening, Lady Tarleton.” Constantine inclined his head toward Sabrina’s mother and then toward her sister. “Lady Stinton. How delightful to encounter you. It’s so rare that we see you both, especially you, Lady Tarleton.”
There was an acid to his tone that made Sabrina want to smile. Then hug him until he couldn’t breathe.
“Good evening, Lord Aldington,” Sabrina’s mother said stiffly. “I’m not sure I recall the last time I saw you and my daughter in the same company.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t at your house for dinner or even a visit.” Constantine flashed her a smile that Sabrina hadn’t even realized he possessed. Spectacularly handsome and deliciously taunting at the same time. Oh, yes, she was going to hug him at the earliest possible opportunity.
He presented his arm to Sabrina. “Come, lady wife, let us take a turn. Good evening, ladies.”
The moment Sabrina put her hand on his arm, he steered her to the other side of the drawing room and into an adjoining room with tables of refreshments. He didn’t pause to offer her anything. Instead, he guided her to a door and pushed it open. They stepped onto a small balcony, and he closed the door behind him.
Sabrina immediately chilled as gooseflesh rippled across her bare shoulders. She suddenly realized they were alone. The balcony was small—perhaps one other couple could fit—and it overlooked the rear garden. Without pause, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly. “Thank you,” she said against his collar.
He clasped her back, his hands warm against her. “Are you all right?”
“I am now. What you did inside… What you said to my mother…” She drew back so she could look up into his eyes. The faint gold flecks seemed more brilliant tonight, despite the darkness on the balcony. “Thank you. No one has ever…rescued me like that.”
A smile teased his lips. “I heard what you said before I interrupted. I’m not sure you needed rescuing, but I’m afraid I couldn’t resist contributing.” His fingertips stroked her spine, trailing upward until his glove met her flesh.
“It was marvelous,” she whispered, leaning into him so her breasts pressed against his chest. The night air was cold, but he was so warm. Safe. Arousing.
His palm flattened over her skin, just below her nape. “You won’t be a failure, and neither will your ball. I promise you that. We won’t give any of them the satisfaction.”
All Sabrina could think just then was the satisfaction she craved. What would it be like to kiss him? More than a chaste brush of lips, but a searing declaration of desire.
“Constantine…”
There was a flash of surprise in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something much fiercer. He curled his hand around her nape and lowered his head until his mouth touched hers. His other hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb sweeping gently across her collarbone.
She clasped his back, finally realizing how desperate she was for this connection. His lips plied hers, moving softly but purposely, coaxing her to kiss him back. It didn’t take much. She wanted this and so much more.
Thinking of all Evie had told her and the book she’d provided, Sabrina slid her tongue tentatively along his lips. The press of his thumb on her intensified as he sealed his mouth to hers and met her tongue with his own. Angling his head, he deepened the kiss, giving her exactly what she desired. His hand cradled her head, holding her captive to his embrace, not that she wanted to be anywhere else.
Bliss raced through her, lifting her to a plateau she’d never even glimpsed. Heat and need pulsed in her sex and in her breasts, heavy against him. At last, they were on the precipice of rapture. On a balcony in the middle of a bloody musicale.
“Oh! I beg your pardon.”
The masculine voice startled them apart. Sabrina turned her head away from the door, too humiliated to allow whoever it was to see her face.
“A moment please, Harkin.” Constantine’s voice was a deep rasp and did nothing to ease the ache inside her. If anything, it only sharpened her longing. The sound of the door, which she hadn’t heard open, told her the man had left. “He’s gone back inside,” Constantine confirmed.
Sabrina let her body wilt against his. “That was horrifying.”
“I wouldn’t say it was horrifying,” he said. “We are married, after all. It’s not as if your reputation is ruined.”
She looked up at him to see a frown flit across his features. “Yet you are troubled by it.”
“Only because if my father hears of it, he will say it was horrifying. Once upon a time, I might have agreed with him.”
“And now?”
He gave her an enigmatic smile. “Now, we must go inside before the musicale starts.” As he guided her into the house, Sabrina was careful to look straight ahead and not make eye contact with Harkin. Did she even know who he was? She didn’t think so, and she preferred to keep it that way, at least for tonight. And perhaps the rest of the Season.
“How was your evening before you had to deal with your mother?” Constantine asked as they strolled the perimeter of the drawing room.
“We hadn’t been here long.” Sabrina remembered that Cass had said she would find her. “Your sister is probably looking for me. I don’t suppose you see any potential suitors for her here tonight?” She glanced up at him.
“I am not the best person to ask.”
Sabrina’s gaze fell on a tall, dark-haired Irishman she’d danced with during her Season and whom she’d talked with at the Phoenix Club assembly. “What about Lord Wexford?”
Constantine arched a shoulder. “I don’t know him well. He’s a friend of Lucien’s if you’d like to determine if he’s up to snuff.”
“I’ll speak with him.” Sabrina scanned the drawing room to see if her brother-in-law was in attendance and found him near the doorway. She also noticed a gentleman waving his hand rather emphatically at Constantine. “Do you know that man?” She didn’t recognize him.
“Yes, he’s a colleague. Forgive me, but I must talk with him briefly. I will join you for the musicale.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of her glove, his eyes glittering with promise.
Sabrina’s insides fluttered as he moved away from her. She might have stood there mooning over her husband if Lucien hadn’t approached her.
He bowed to her with a gallant flourish. “Good evening, Sabrina. How goes your sponsorship of our sister?”
“It’s scarcely begun, but since you brought it up, I wonder if you might tell me about Lord Wexford. Would he make a suitable husband for Cass?”
“Absolutely not.” The answer came swift and hard. Lucien’s usually jovial gaze had darkened to cinder.
“I thought you were friends.”
“We are. Good friends, actually, but he is completely inappropriate for Cassandra.”
“I see. Well, I’m glad I asked you. If there are any other gentlemen we should avoid, I hope you’ll let me know.” She moved closer to his side. “Have you been able to procure an invitation for Constantine to the Phoenix Club?”
One of his brows slanted. “Constantine? Dare I hope things are progressing well between the two of you?”
She couldn’t help the blush that rushed to her cheeks. Probably because it was impossible to not keep thinking of their kiss on the balcony. “They are…progressing.” Perhaps Constantine would come to her bed that night. Her pulse quickened at the thought.
Lucien grinned. “That must be why there have been no further requests for meetings with the tutor.”
A wave of unease washed over Sabrina. She’d done a good job of ignoring the guilt she felt regarding her deception. It was easy when things were going so well between her and Constantine and when she was trying to look forward and not back. Should she even feel guilty given their newfound closeness? She hoped they would both see how the sessions had helped—and she was convinced they had.
“You should come to the club tonight,” Lucien said, pulling her from her troubling thoughts. “It’s Tuesday, so you can see the men’s side.”
“If my husband could come with me, I would.” In truth, she wanted to go anyway. She was quite eager to see the inside of a gentleman’s club.
“I’m working on it,” he murmured. “But I can’t tell you anything about it. In fact, if you could come tonight, your presence and, frankly, your charm might persuade others to be in favor of inviting Con.”
Her charm? “Are you mistaking me with someone else?”
He smiled at her. “Not at all. Lady Aldington has caused quite a stir since returning to town. Haven’t you heard? She is no longer the shy wallflower countess. She’s a coveted guest at any occasion, and she’s a member of the Phoenix Club.”
Sabrina had no idea she’d garnered so much attention. The old anxiety welled up inside her, but there was something else too—pride. “I will think about coming.” It depended on Constantine and whether he had plans later. If he did, she would go to the club after dropping Cass and Miss Lancaster at Evesham House.
The host signaled that the musicale would shortly begin, and the guests should find their seats. Sabrina glanced about and finally saw Cass and Miss Lancaster. “Do you wish to sit with us?” she asked Lucien.
“I’m going to stand in the back. Hopefully, I’ll see you later.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, as they so often did, before he turned and strolled to the wall behind the last row of chairs.
As Sabrina made her way to Cass and Miss Lancaster near the front, she noted Constantine was still speaking with the same gentleman. His gaze met hers, and his brow briefly furrowed. He gave her a slight nod, which she thought was meant to reassure her that he would join her for the musicale.
She reached Cass, who apologized for not finding her earlier. “I’m afraid we got swept up in some drama with Miss Carrington.”
“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound good.”
“She spilled ratafia on her gown,” Cass explained. “You would have thought it was the end of days.”
Miss Lancaster pursed her lips, and Sabrina couldn’t quite tell if it was from exasperation or that she was trying not to laugh. They took their seats in the third row, with Cass between Miss Lancaster and Sabrina.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t attending you,” Sabrina said. “I’m afraid Constantine distracted me.” And still was, if she were honest. She looked in his direction and happened to catch his eye once more. He mouthed “sorry” and gave her a regretful stare. Then he and the gentlemen hastened from the room as the music began.
Disappointment curled in Sabrina’s chest, but she shrugged it away. Her husband was an important and busy man. Still, he’d taken the time to come to the musicale where he’d rescued her before giving her a kiss she would never forget.