Hunter Of My Heart

As she reached the lower steps, she blinked at the surroundings. The staircase had spilled into the foyer and not the servant’s hall. She stared at the crystal chandelier that graced the domed entrance, the carved oak door and the sheet-covered furnishings. The appointments told her that riches filled the house, yet the contents didn’t matter. She was lost.

Due to her worries last evening, she had paid no attention to the route. She glanced behind her. Should she retrace her steps? Gooseflesh covered her arms. Suddenly she realized the earl might take offense to her wandering and she eyed the door. Maybe she could walk around the castle and find the rear.

“Going somewhere?”

With her heart pounding, she swung around. “I’m looking for the servant’s hall. Actually, I’m lost.”

Kenilworth leaned against the doorway of a room off the foyer. As he regarded her with a raised brow, he threw his frock coat over his shoulder and fingered his untied cravat. The motion drew her gaze to his throat, unshaven jaw and the exposed portion of his chest. Without his toilette, he looked... savage.

Suddenly a knock sounded and his lordship glanced at the door. “Early for callers. More of your friends?”

She produced a wry smile. “Perhaps just a traveler needing aid. If so, they’d do themselves a favor by looking elsewhere.”

“A man could shave with your tongue.” With long strides, he crossed the foyer and opened the door.

A servant dressed in indigo livery whipped off his hat. “Beggin’ yer pardon for the hour, milord. The Duke of Sadlerfield wants a word with the earl.”

Sabrina’s pulse raced. Her grandfather! He must have followed her! She had to leave. Grabbing her skirt, she climbed a few steps, but curiosity urged her to look to the door again.

“I’m Kenilworth.”

Stepping into view, the man dismissed the servant with a crisp nod. “Splendid. May I come in?”

Kenilworth gestured for him to enter. “Sadlerfield. I only know you by your politics. Did you come to sway my reform efforts?”

Sabrina climbed a few more steps, but a sudden need to see this man made her peek over her shoulder. Maybe he hadn’t come because of her. The thought didn’t calm her thundering heart. If she moved beyond the banister, the curved wall would hide her.

“That is a subject for later. Right now, I am looking for a young lady.”

No! Spinning around, she raced up the stairs. Despite his longer nose and leaner build, the man resembled her father, only with white hair and a determined set to his jaw. She had to alert Marga!

“A moment while I see to my guest. Miss Beaumont?”

Sabrina halted but didn’t turn. Only three more steps to the wall! “Milord?”

“Young lady! Come here,” Sadlerfield said.

Sweat trickled down her back. What could she do? Slowly she turned and managed an unaffected look. “Yes?”

“Sadlerfield, do you know Miss Beaumont?”

The duke let out a disgruntled breath. “Beaumont! One look and I know she is my granddaughter. Sabrina Barrington!”

Kenilworth’s dark eyes demanded answers. “Barrington, is it?”

Holding his gaze, she raised her chin. A powerful urge to deny her grandfather’s claim skipped across her conscience. Despite his discovery, a tiny part of her was glad she could emerge into the light and fight him. Maybe this was the reason she hadn’t run. However, this didn’t mean she would acknowledge him as her kin. “So what if it is?”

“One of you. Start explaining.” Kenilworth marched toward her. His steps resonated off the marble floor, bounced off the stucco ceiling. “Who’s it going to be?”

“In time, Kenilworth, but I will not discuss this matter for all to hear! Come down at once, young lady!”

For one second, Sabrina considered appealing to Kenilworth, but his cold gaze held no mercy. Where were the servants’ stairs? When she glanced over her shoulder, an iron grip captured her wrist. An indignant cry whispered through her lips. She tried to yank her arm from his hold, but Kenilworth’s large hand imprisoned her fingers. His breath, hinting of brandy, brushed against her cheek and filled her ear.

“This time, I want the truth!” Seizing her elbow, he escorted her into the room from which he had emerged earlier.

Her heart thundered. “Let go of me!”

“Sit!” He pointed to a leather chair and motioned Sadlerfield to take the seat beside her. Standing in front of her, he leaned against his desk.

“Undoubtedly, you have questions, Kenilworth. First, I must properly introduce myself to Sabrina. Look at me, young lady! I am your grandfather.”

Her line of vision ended at Kenilworth’s taut stomach and broad chest, one that vibrated with anger. She trembled and laced her hands. Shifting her gaze to her grandfather, she suddenly realized he had remained silent during Kenilworth’s tirade. Was that a look of satisfaction brightening his blue eyes? She pursed her lips. In that moment, she didn’t know which man frightened her more.

To hide her emotions, she summoned her most insolent manner. “Have I passed your examination, your grace?”

“Quite. You have your father’s eyes. I will not go into the reason you have avoided me these past years. Not seeking me out and avoiding the meeting I requested conveys your feelings. However, I did spend considerable funds searching for you.”

How much did he know? Despite the dread that threatened to steal her breath, she managed an unaffected facade. “A waste of money, I assure you, but I’m curious. How did you find me?”

He placed his ebony cane between his legs and rested his hands on the gold knob. “Bank clerks receive little recompense. That is irrelevant now.”

“Bribery! How dare you!”

His eyes gleamed. “My men informed me that you came to Scotland. One sailed with you. So, of course I had to follow.”

She fought for a steady voice. “How long have you had someone trailing me?” Guessing she would run, he had undoubtedly completed his plans before he approached her. Had he found the twins? What horrible fate did he plan for Marga?

A white eyebrow rose. “A very short while. I needed time to decide the best course for your future. Dashing off to Scotland changed my plans naturally.” He shifted his gaze to Kenilworth. “She stayed the night here. You realize her reputation will be in ruins if society learns.”

Kenilworth’s eyes turned hard. “I offered her and her aunt shelter from the storm. Don’t make anything more of my generosity.”

Refusing to consider the dark thought that blew through her mind, Sabrina willed her pulse to calm. “Your grace, I came here about a debt.”

“I know you are in financial straits. Your bank account and closure of that shop are proof.”

What else did he know? To hide her concern, she slapped her knee. “Did you hear that, Lord Kenilworth? Surely, you’ll believe the duke. The debt put me in my current position.”

“Odd. Despite an obvious estrangement, you embrace his words. His affirmation doesn’t mean I’ll pay you.”

“But now you have proof of my story and identity!”

The earl’s black eyebrows snapped together. “Do I? That was before I learned your real name. You lied.”

She bit her lip. “Barrington doesn’t suit a couturiere. Beaumont is French. You know the English relish Parisian fashion.”

“Trade!” the duke scoffed. “We will discuss that and your finances later. Your reputation concerns me more. Already you have sullied it by dabbling in commoner’s work.” Her grandfather turned to the earl. “I must speak to you alone.”

“If this conversation concerns me, I’m staying.”

“Kenilworth. Put her somewhere.”

“Wait in the secretary’s office.” The earl looked at her hard and pointed to a small room off the study.

When she remained in her chair, his arm shot out. Strong fingers captured her hand. She tried to dig in her heels as he pulled her across the room. “This isn’t fair!”

“Right now, I don’t care what you think.” He dragged her inside and retreated quickly.

“Lock her inside, Kenilworth.”

To her dismay, he did as the duke ordered. As she pounded on the door, she pressed her ear to the wood, but the thick oak muted their voices. She squeezed her eyes shut. Imprisoned like her mother! As old stories emerged, hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

When Sabrina’s father had refused to abide the duke’s demands, her grandfather stealthily created circumstances to make the English government believe her mother was a French spy. He even pretended shock when the authorities arrested her as a war criminal.

Worst of all, the powerful duke did nothing after Thomas’s barrister father saw her in jail, nearly dead from starvation. She hadn’t fit into the duke’s plans. He had used his power to keep the affair quiet. Thank heavens for Thomas. He and her father had managed to smuggle her mother out of jail.

The black recollection reminded Sabrina of her own situation. How long would Kenilworth keep her imprisoned? Fear and anger mutated to determination. She ran her sleeve over her damp cheeks and vowed to never show any weakness or let her grandfather rule her life. His cunning had ruined her parents’ lives, and she’d not forget his strength on this score or forgive his sins. He had indirectly killed her parents. Cursing, she kicked and pounded on the door.

What were they talking about?

Chapter Three

Hunter curled his fingers around the key and slowly turned. He could not shake the disturbing feeling that the duke had planned his arrival, early hour and all. “What do you wish to speak to me about?” Behind him, the doorknob rattled and pounding followed.

The duke looked at the door and then threw him a dispassionate glance. “She stayed here with you. You are a bachelor.”

“Her aunt chaperoned.”

“Was she ever alone with you?”

Hunter threw Sadlerfield his darkest look. “I haven’t touched her, but I can’t vow for her innocence.”

Sadlerfield pounded his cane on the rich carpet. “Do not be insolent with me, young man. Now, tell me about yourself. Start with the time you left Oxford until your recent return.”

Surprised, Hunter glared at the duke, but to learn the answers, he sensed he must comply. As he rubbed the key between his fingers, he spoke about his years in India where he owned a sapphire mine. He discussed his plantation in Barbados and included every unconventional business maneuver he had ever employed. “Satisfied?”

“Almost. You left out your little trip to Australia.”

Hunter gripped the key and managed an unaffected facade. What kind of game was he playing? “A good businessman should always see to his interests. Why shouldn’t I see to my warehouses and estate?”

“I know about those, too. I am a good friend of Australia’s governor.”

Hunter planted his fists at his waist. “Why ask me anything if you know the answers?”

Sadlerfield straightened. “I am just confirming the facts. A man of my years and experience assumes nothing. You will do.”

“For what?”

“To marry Sabrina, of course.”

The key dug into his flesh. “You’re out of your mind.” He said the words, short and succinct.

Sadlerfield’s chin rose. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

The duke’s shocking demand stirred a question, one that seemed improbable. “You want an heir? Go look for a stupid buck! Did you plan the debt? Did you force her into a situation so she had no choice but to come here?”

When the pounding continued, Hunter glowered at the door. Despite her beauty, a wife was the last thing he wanted, and an impertinent, lying chit only made matters worse.

Sadlerfield remained stoic. “Outrageous. I am merely a concerned guardian who spent years searching for my only kin.”

“You left out planning and scheming.”

“If I have, so what? She was still here. A man of my position must assure the title will continue. Why allow such revered heritage to revert to the Crown?”

“I refuse to marry her.”

“I think not. You transported your father against his will. The governor conveyed that amusing story. A man in his cups can tell a great deal.” The duke’s blue eyes gleamed.

Hunter forced a harsh laugh. Did Sadlerfield know all? “You believe a drunken man’s tale?” he asked in an icy tone.

“Whether I do or not is irrelevant. The governor believes it. However, he has more sympathy for you than he does your father. The fact remains, if you do not marry Sabrina, I will ruin you. I will tell the world what you did.”

The blackmail fueled Hunter’s anger and he searched for ammunition against the duke’s well-planned assault. Yet, like a man who held bad cards, he had to try to deceive his opponent. “My father has a tainted reputation. No peer will take his side.”

“Society might not believe Lord Wick. However, they would believe me if I conveyed the tale. Are you willing to chance it?”

Hunter stalked to the hearth. “Bringing a Sinclair into your family could sully the Barrington name. Is that what you want?”

“If I ignore Lord Wick’s despicable reputation, your lineage is satisfactory. Besides, linkage to the Barrington name will improve your social standing. The connection might even help you in Parliament. What is your answer?”

Hunter understood the threat. Marry the wench or suffer personal and political ruination. He slammed his palm against the stone mantel and wished it were the duke’s face. He had no choice. “Damn your pompous hide.”

“I gather that means yes?”

“One day I’ll see you in hell for this.”

A corner of the duke’s mouth rose. “My felicitations.”

“Don’t expect me to ask for her hand.”

Sabrina kicked the door. “Let me out of here!”

Now she could truly understand the reason her mother had begged her to hide the twins, having aptly described the duke. Sabrina would do anything to keep them from this cold, ruthless man! His heartlessness alone would kill her brother.

As metal grated in the keyhole, she stepped back. Suddenly the door slammed against the wall. Kenilworth’s piercing look could splinter rock.

For a second, she stood paralyzed, but rage and pride forced her chin up. “Move aside, milord!”

“Enjoy your moment of freedom,” he drawled, and stepped away.

She stomped past him but suddenly realized the men were glaring at each other. Warily she looked at her grandfather.

He held her gaze with unmoving eyes. “I am by rights your guardian and have arranged for your future.”

Horror rocked her heart. “I’ve managed on my own.”

“You are the granddaughter of a duke. I control you.” He slanted a glance at the earl. “That is, until you marry. Sabrina, meet your intended.”

His words hit her like a hurricane, at once stealing her breath and fueling her anger. She jabbed her arm toward the earl. “Him! Never! I refuse to marry to him!”

“Don’t dream that I’d ever ask for you.” Kenilworth scanned her with cold eyes.

She let out a deep breath at the earl’s refusal, but simultaneously his rejection tweaked her pride. The humiliating situation was the cause, wasn’t it? “His lordship and I agree. We don’t want to marry. We don’t even like each other!”

“It is what I want that matters. You will marry him. You stayed here, and he has agreed to do the honorable thing!”

Kenilworth sneered. She could feel the anger emanating from him, sense his restraint, see the fury hardening every muscle. Like a cornered animal about to pounce, he seemed suddenly...primitive. He walked to the hearth, planted his hands on the mantel and stared at the cold ashes.

Sabrina couldn’t explain her sudden compassion for the earl, a victim like herself. “Your grace. You can’t insinuate that he compromised me. He didn’t.”

The earl slapped the mantel. “When do you want the marriage?”

Surprised that he would relent without a fight, she twirled around. He had held his ground about the debt. “Milord! Are you a coward? If we both refuse, he can’t force us!”

“Well, he has.” Fury burned in his eyes.

Sabrina pursed her lips. Her grandfather must have somehow threatened to use his power, just as he had persecuted her mother. This thought didn’t ease her tumultuous emotions. “Really, milord. I expected you to give a better fight.”

“Oh, he tried. You will marry within a month. I’ve a paper that will secure a license.”

Kenilworth marched toward the duke. “What paper?”

Her grandfather reached into his tailcoat pocket.

She jabbed the air with her fist. “A month! Never!”

Keeping his eyes on her, the duke started to hand the paper to the earl. “Is that shop important to your aunt?”

Sabrina threw him a vicious glare and grabbed the paper. “Just like you to take away our livelihood!” As she read the letter, her hands began to shake. I will help you in any way regarding the personal matter we discussed. William Howley, Cantuar. “You went to the archbishop!”

Kenilworth snatched the paper from her hand and read. His jaw worked. “So, you paved a path to God just to see your granddaughter married,” he drawled.

“I will do anything for a male heir. The Barrington name must continue.”

She knew his title and deeds to property came from Norman times. By royal decree, the lands were entailed and the deeds stipulated that only a male heir could inherit. Yet, out of this mess, Sabrina felt a ray of hope. The relief made her limbs weak and she sank into a chair. She was certain—well, almost sure—that the duke had not learned of Alec’s existence or he wouldn’t have planned her marriage...that is, unless he knew about Alec’s poor health and wanted a spare heir.

What could she do? She glanced at Kenilworth, whose dark look didn’t invite camaraderie. A niggling thought rooted deeper. Even her grandfather couldn’t force a man like Kenilworth to do anything unless the duke had some power over him. Perhaps her instincts were right. Dark, wild and powerful emotions inhabited the earl’s soul, something primal and untamed. She could not imagine being married to the man, who didn’t want her anyway.

Suddenly a thought came to mind. Perhaps she could turn the disaster to her advantage...and help the ead, too. “Kenilworth? May I speak to you alone?”

As Hunter closed the door to the small office, he stood with his back to Miss Barrington. He grasped the knob.

He knew now that the duke had long considered a union between him and his granddaughter. Damnation! Had Sadlerfield investigated every eligible peer? Of the lot, he must have the darkest past. Lucky him. Obviously he was the person most likely to succumb to blackmail and still meet Sadlerfield’s requirements.

Curious, Hunter turned, but cursed himself a thousand times for even considering her innocence and welfare. She appeared to dislike a forced marriage, too, but she was still a liar. His measure of kindness made him angry with himself. When would he learn?

“I should have had the authorities take you to jail. Neither of us would be in this fix if I had. I vow this, Miss Barrington. You’ll never make a fool of me again.”

Straightening, she slid her palms down her skirt. “That was never my intent, milord. I only omitted a slight detail, but because I’ve used the Beaumont name for a long time.”

He snorted. “I wonder. What else you have excluded?”

“Nothing important to you, milord. The reason I asked to speak to you should help both of us.”

“You’ve sparked my imagination again. What do you want, Miss Barrington? A grand affair with jewels as a wedding gift? Forget it. You’re not getting a thing from me except my name.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I only want one thing from you, sir. Unless you agree, I won’t marry you.”

He narrowed his eyes. That innocent thing she did with her lips wouldn’t make a fool of him again. This announcement shouldn’t have surprised him but it did. Sadlerfield had made his position clear. Total ruination. Even if he didn’t consider his own survival, he had to think about Gavin’s life, and the lives of his workers in Barbados. Many were counting on his efforts in Parliament to help free friends and family members who toiled on other plantations.

“We don’t have a choice.”

“I think you agreed only because he knows something about you. I’m sorry he used such coercion. I won’t question your actions if you don’t ask me mine. My terms, sir. I will refuse to speak the vows...unless you give me a bank draft for six thousand pounds.”

“That is a separate issue.”

“The money or no vows.”

He stepped closer. “You’re a scheming little wench.”

Sabrina swallowed hard but remained rooted to the floor. “I’m sorry you feel that way. If you consider everything, I’m helping you. You’re in some kind of trouble. Without my vows, you’ll be in a real fix.”

The determination in her eyes and the tilt of her chin told him she would do as she said. Damnation! He had no choice. “Blackmail. It must run in your family.”

Her dainty nostrils flared. Looking away, she eyed the bookshelves. “I’m only asking what I’m due. Keep your fancy wedding. The show would only be a farce. Why give the duke such satisfaction?” Her voice quavered.

With her back turned, he didn’t know if she experienced a spurt of anger or remorse, however, he did appreciate her low regard of the duke. “Of course, why should we?”

Slowly she moved to the wall and fingered a book. “Will you accept my condition?”

Hunter pulled his frock coat from his shoulder and retrieved his leather pocketbook. Walking to the desk, he found a pen and ink. After a second’s pause, he drafted a banknote. If he accomplished nothing else in his life, he vowed he would learn everything about his bride-to-be. Rage hit him in the gut. He was about to enter a loveless marriage, one that could easily resemble his parents’. The reality left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He walked up behind her. “The money, Miss Barrington.” Turning, she pinched the banknote, but he didn’t release it.

Panic flashed in her eyes. “Aren’t you going to give it to me?”

“We’ve a deal. You set the boundaries, and that includes more than saying the vows.” He released the banknote.

“What do you mean?” Folding the draft, she tucked it into her pocket and then looked up.

“Let me refresh your memory.” Planting his hands on the books, he bracketed her.

She moved backward, her heels clicking against the oak shelf. “What are you referring to?”

“Baizer moi, Sabrina...for six thousand pounds.”

Her eyes grew wide. “What? That discussion has nothing to do with this!”

Leaning a little closer, he caught her gardenia scent. “Oh, I disagree. You’re a scheming liar. Show me you can keep your word.”

She frowned and suddenly she tilted back her head and closed her eyes. “Kiss me then and be quick about it.”

Lowering his mouth, he brushed his lips across hers, but her rigid posture challenged his pride. Surely he could get some reaction from her. After all, she would be his wife...a cold, stony one. This thought urged him on, and he kissed her again, this time pressing his body against hers. Suddenly her closeness and soft lips stirred his base needs. Her gardenia scent aroused all his senses more. Although he cursed himself for reacting, something inexplicable made him want to taste her sweetness again. As he deepened the kiss, she let out a mewing sound and her lips quivered beneath his. Her lips began to melt, mold against his.

Suddenly a knock shook the door. Deliberately Hunter continued to kiss her and lifted his head long enough to bid the intruder to enter. He captured her lips again.

“Good God! What are you doing?” the duke roared.

Hunter raised his head, felt a small fist grind into his midriff. Giving her a cold look, he backed away. He could never let either of them know that the kiss had affected him. “Sealing our promise to wed,” he drawled.

“Barbaric! Nonetheless, your display does not surprise me. You both come from parentage with lust in their veins.” The duke shook his head. “However, your natures will give me an heir sooner.”