The Offer (Baron 2)

She gazed up at him uncertainly.

He smiled down at her as he said, “You’re not to worry about a thing. Trust me, Sabrina.” He wasn’t a randy boy with no control. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her witless. He’d said enough. He’d give her time to settle in, time to get to know him.

He supposed he needed time as well. He’d never had a wife before. He couldn’t begin to imagine the adjustment that he would have to make in his very pleasant life. “Greybar told me that horrible maid, Hickles, is well and truly gone. He said Doris would suit you very well. I’ll send her to you.” He patted her hand and turned away.

“I’ve never seen an angel with beautiful red hair like yours, my lady,” Doris said. “Even the pictures I’ve seen in books, all the angels are the loveliest little blond girls, with huge blue eyes. But I think a red-haired angel would be a nice change. She’d look just like you.” If only you weren’t so pale and lifeless, she thought as she twitched a beautifully embroidered batiste nightgown into place. She pictured his lordship in her mind and imagined herself swooning in his arms. Now there was a gentleman to please a lady. Such charm he had, such wicked eyes and manners, not that she’d ever had them turned on her. But she wasn’t his wife. This little one who looked more frightened than a rabbit in the sight of a hunter’s gun was the new viscountess. She didn’t look like a loose girl who’d lost her virginity to the viscount and been lucky enough to have him marry her. She looked rather pathetic, except for all that lovely red hair and those strange eyes that probably would have gotten her burned at the stake in another time and place. No, she didn’t look like the viscount could charm her out of her chemise.

Sabrina nodded abstractedly, and Doris smiled to herself. She couldn’t imagine any lady not having a really fine time in bed with his lordship, even this pale little creature. She laid down the hairbrush and stepped back. “Can I be getting you anything else, my lady?”

“No, thank you, Doris.”

Doris curtsied and quietly closed the door behind her.

Sabrina turned slowly from the mirror and let her eyes rove again over the large bedchamber. It was severe and masculine, not at all unlike its master, she thought. She looked at the huge bed, a carved oak affair set on a dais in the middle of the bedchamber, with no hangings to soften its stark presence. She picked up a branch of candles, carried it to the bed, and set it on the bedside table. Phillip had told her that carpenters would be at her disposal to redo the adjoining bedchamber that had been his mother’s. He’d been sorry but there hadn’t been time to make it right in time for her. So she had to sleep in this bed tonight.

With him. She’d never slept with a man before. Well, she had, when she’d been fevered and he’d held her, but that wasn’t real, that wasn’t something that she’d actuall

y chosen to be a party to, something she’d experienced as she was sure she would experience this.

She was married. She’d even offered herself to him as part of the bargain. She didn’t remember that he’d been very enthusiastic.

Sabrina slipped in between the sheets and drew the covers up to her chin. She stared up at the dark oak beams that crisscrossed the length of the ceiling. She strained to hear Phillip’s footsteps. She felt the nightgown slide over her skin as she drew her knees up to her chest.

Phillip would be kind. There was no reason for him not to be kind. He wouldn’t maul her. Not like Trevor had. He’d told her to trust him, and she would.

The room was so silent. She couldn’t bear it. She began humming, hummed and hummed until her throat hurt.

He didn’t come.

At least she knew her husband a lot better than every other girl knew her bridegroom. He’d given her a bath. He’d told her many of his adventures. He’d cooked for her. She’d tried to escape him that one miserable night but his damned horse wouldn’t budge. And the other, her woman’s monthly flow. He even knew about things like that. He’d even helped her. She squeezed her eyes closed.

Yes, she knew Phillip. Or, more’s the truth, he knew her, inside and out.

The clock on the mantel stroked one long single stroke. Perhaps he wasn’t coming to her. But where would he sleep? She was in his bed. If he hadn’t wanted her here, then he should have said something. Was he perhaps sleeping in a guest chamber down the corridor? She got out of the huge bed.

It wasn’t fair that Phillip not sleep in his own bed. It was his home, his bed. She lit a candle and managed to get on her dressing gown. Barefoot, she opened the bedchamber door. She didn’t hear anything. Slowly she walked down the vast corridor, opening each door along the way.

Empty. They were all empty. Where was he?

She walked downstairs, carefully cupping the slender candle flame. She finally saw a light coming from beneath a door toward the back of the house. She had no idea what room it was.

She raised her hand to knock, then pressed her ear to the door. She heard nothing at all. She very slowly turned the doorknob. The door opened silently. It was a man’s study of some sort, filled with leather and wainscoting, like her upstairs bedchamber. There was a large winged chair that faced the fireplace. A sluggish fire was burning. She walked silently toward that chair.

Suddenly he rose and faced her. He was still dressed in his evening wear, except he’d pulled his cravat loose and his hair was disheveled. He just stared at her. He was holding a snifter of brandy in his right hand.

“Sabrina?” He took a step toward her, then stopped. “Did something happen? Is something wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Oh no. I’m sorry to disturb you, Phillip, but you didn’t come to bed. It isn’t fair, so I came to find you and tell you to come.”

He shook his head at her, as if he were uncertain what she’d said. He said finally, “Surely this is a very strange offer from a girl who would probably prefer to see any man locked up in chains so he couldn’t touch her. Let me get this straight. You want me to come to my bedchamber?”

“Yes, it’s only right. You shouldn’t be down here. This is your home.”

“Well, I suppose it’s now your home as well. Let me get this straight again. You want me to come to my bedchamber? With you there as well?”

“Of course. Why else would I come to find you? If you would prefer that I not be there with you, then you must simply say so. It won’t hurt my feelings. Surely we know each other well enough not to see hurt where none is intended.” It was strange, but in that instant, he would have sworn that he heard hurt in her voice as she said, “You weren’t impressed with me offering myself. Therefore you needn’t worry because I do understand. It’s a very large bed. I’m certain that there’s more than enough space for both of us. We won’t have to disturb each other.”

He cleared his throat. He plowed his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “This is excessively strange, Sabrina. I had meant to speak to you about sex, no, that’s too stark a word. No, I had meant to speak to you about intimacy between a husband and wife, but I decided to do it tomorrow. You’re very tired. You don’t need to have any of this tonight. You should be asleep. You shouldn’t be wandering about at one o’clock in the morning, wearing that embroidered thing that makes you look really quite lovely.” He stopped. “Well?”