When Greybar bowed himself out of the drawing room, looking as disapproving as a nun in a room of harlots, Charles said, “Now, tell me what happened to make Phillip escape from his own house.”
He jumped when Sabrina yelled, “You see, Charlie, you are siding with him. Why do you automatically blame me? Can’t you even consider for a single minute that his absence might not be my fault?”
“No, I won’t consider it. I’ve known you all your life. I’m used to you and the way you think and the mischief you led poor Margaret into for years and years. But poor Phillip, he—”
“Poor Phillip, you say? He’s not poor, damn him. He has my dowry, which is magnificent, and he also has my ten-thousand-pound inheritance. Poor Phillip, ha!”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Very well, your poor Phillip informed me at the breakfast table that he was returning my inheritance to me, so that I would be financially independent.”
“Hang the bastard, I say.”
“Are you telling me, Charlie, that Phillip didn’t tell you about our business agreement?”
“A business agreement with you? That makes no sense at all. First of all, gentlemen don’t indulge in business, much less indulge in business with ladies.”
She looked down at her hands and began to pull relentlessly at her thumbnail. “After that horrible night at Almack’s, Phillip stayed away from me. It was I who approached him about marriage. It was an honorable bargain we struck, Charlie. He gave me the impression that he needed my money, that we had come to an agreement that benefited us both.”
“By all that’s holy, surely Phillip wouldn’t say anything of the kind. Ever since the Dinwitty heiress back in the early part of the last century, the Merceraults have never needed funds. They’ve only increased their wealth the past two generations. Phillip needs your money about as much as he needs a case of the hives.”
“I suppose I realized that after this morning at the breakfast table.” She sighed deeply. “I’m an heiress, Charlie.”
“I know that. Naturally you would be. Now, tell me the truth. Well, now you know that Phillip never wanted nor needed your precious money. Lord, he would have followed the same course even if you hadn’t a sou. It sounds to me as if you forced him to subterfuge so that he could do the right thing by you.”
“I guess I did know it,” she said in a low voice that made him lean toward her to hear her. “It was all a sham, a lie.”
“I wish you would remember how you turned him down several times. He was responsible for you, even though it was you who plunged him into this entire mess. Well, you certainly didn’t mean to, it wasn’t at all your fault, but if you hadn’t been there, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“He’d still be free if not for me. Oh, don’t you understand, Charlie? I didn’t want him to marry me for those dreadful reasons. I didn’t want a sacrificial husband. I wanted to bring him something, anything besides my sullied reputation.”
“If you would just stop worrying about your own honor and think about his for a moment—”
Sabrina felt tears swim in her eyes. She hated them but she couldn’t keep them back. She gulped, raising her eyes. “He doesn’t love me, Charlie. He would never even have known me, much less married me, if it hadn’t been for what happened.”
“Of course he doesn’t love you. How could he? The two of you hardly know each other. As for the other, naturally he would have met you, here in London, when you’d come this spring for the season. He probably would have taken one look at you and thrown himself at your feet.” He sat down beside her and patted her shoulder. She turned and buried her face in his neck. “He didn’t spend last night—our wedding night—with me. He went to his mistress.”
Charles felt deep waters close over his head. No, surely Phillip wouldn’t have done that. Surely. It wasn’t as if Sabrina were as ugly as a doorknob. She was lovely. In the next instant, he realized his friend’s motive. He patted her back. She wasn’t crying, just leaning into him, all boneless, like a child. “Listen, Sabrina. He didn’t want to rush you. He wanted to give you time to get over what Trevor tried to do to you. He didn’t want you to be frightened of him. Also you were very ill. You’re still so pale it scares me. No, he was being careful of you and your feelings. Don’t hate him for trying to do the right thing by you.”
Her bones returned in a flash, her whole body stiffening. Her eyes were narrowed and mean. “Ah, I see it all now. He’s so wonderful that he went off and bedded his mistress. It would seem to me, Charlie, that if Phillip were truly the saintly man you’ve been painting, he wouldn’t go sleep with his mistress. He’d have stayed here in his own house, in his own bed. I could have slept next to him. He wouldn’t have to touch me, not that saintly man. Or, idea of ideas, he could have slept by himself, the entire night, not just the hours before dawn, which is when he probably returned home. He’s a pig, Charlie.”
“No, he’s not a pig, trust me on this, Sabrina. The problem is that Phillip is a man who’s used to women, he’s used to having—” He pulled back, aware of what almost spurted out of his mouth. “I didn’t mean that. Just forget it.”
“Yes, I see,” she said slowly, and he thought that she was now in control of herself. It was an unspeakable relief. A crying woman annihilated him. She said slowly, pulling herself together, “That would make sense. Of course Phillip would want to bed a woman at night. It’s the way he is. He didn’t bed me because he was afraid he’d scare me. Ah yes, now I understand.” She jumped to her feet and began pacing to and fro in front of him. “Then I suppose it’s up to me to show him that I’m quite well again
and I won’t run shrieking out of the bedchamber if he kisses me.”
“There’s, er, more to what happens between men and women than just kissing.”
“I know.” Then she whirled about to face him and she was grinning.
Charles just looked at the bright girl in front of him. It was difficult not to burst into laughter. It was a concept that boggled the brain—Phillip Mercerault was going to be seduced by an eighteen-year-old girl who just also happened to be his wife. He hoped she would succeed. He would also say thirteen prayers that she didn’t remember Trevor and get frightened.
“But you know, Charlie, I don’t know what to do about his mistress. I gave him his freedom, you see.”
“You won’t do anything, Sabrina,” Charles said in his firmest voice. “You will let well enough alone. Your courtship with Phillip, it hasn’t exactly been conventional. Take everything slowly. That’s my advice. Just don’t yell at him. He isn’t used to it. He’s quite used to having women coo at him and kiss him and tell him he’s wonderful.”
“Yes, but he has to pay them to do that. He doesn’t have to pay me. I’m his wife.” She paused, then added, “Well, he will give me a quarterly allowance.”