we’re not grand at all. In fact, everyone says we’re deplorably plebian.” He grinned and hauled her to her feet. “Come, you’ll see. She’s not stuffy at all.”
Sabrina found that hard to believe, but she had little choice but to follow, her cheeks already burning in anticipation of her coming humiliation. Alex took her arm—whether to support her or keep her from fleeing, she wasn’t sure.
They walked down the hall and through a set of open double doors. As soon as they stepped inside, Sabrina understood both the names given to the room. The couches and chairs and a chaise longue were upholstered in a rich red damask, relieved only by the dark wood of various tables. The walls and even the ceiling were all hung with billowing folds of fabric so that it did, in fact, resemble the inside of a tent. A very luxurious tent.
“Alex, dear.” A woman rose from a love seat. She was tall and beautifully dressed, her hair a dark auburn almost overtaken by gray. She had clearly been a beauty when she was young—still was beautiful, in fact. It all added up to an imposing figure, though not the one Sabrina had imagined. But that image was dispelled by the warmth of her smile and the kindness in her gaze. “I see you’ve brought me a guest. Come, sit down, child. You look white as a sheet.” Reaching out, she took Sabrina’s hands in hers. “Goodness, your hands are cold as ice. Alex, ring for some tea.”
As Alex turned to tug the bellpull, Sabrina said, “I beg your pardon for barging in on you like this, Your Grace. And I know the way I am dressed must seem, um...” Well, she really didn’t have the words to sum up how wrong her appearance was.
“’Tis nothing.” The duchess waved her words away and led Sabrina over to a sofa. “Now sit down here with me and tell me what has happened. I can see that you are in some distress. Is it an employer who beat you? Has your father turned you out of the house? Men! Taking their pleasure wherever, whenever they want, but woe betide the poor woman who’s caught with the consequences—such hypocrites.” She looked over at Alex with a smile. “Not my boys, of course. They’re gentlemen just like their father. So I know it’s not Alex who has gotten you into trouble.”
Sabrina goggled. “What?”
“It’s all right, dear.” The older woman patted her hand. “You needn’t be afraid here. No one is going to judge you. I don’t allow that in any of my houses.”
“Your houses!” What sort of house was she talking about—surely not one that handed out postcards at the train station? This was becoming madder by the moment.
“No, no, no...” Alex hastened to say. “It’s not like that, Mother. Sabrina isn’t one of your unfortunate young women. She’s not, um...” He flashed Sabrina a distressed look. “Mother funds two houses for women who are in need, you see.” He swung back to the duchess. “But this is different.” He went on to tell her Sabrina’s story.
To Sabrina’s amazement, the duchess listened with a warm concern but no visible sign of alarm, despite the peculiarity of the tale. When Alex finished, she said only, “I see. Well, of course you’re right, dear, she must stay here with us.” She smiled at Sabrina. “Clearly you have been through an ordeal. I’ll tell Phipps to make up a room for you.”
“I hate to put you to so much bother,” Sabrina began.
“Nonsense. No problem at all.” The duchess gave her arm another pat. “I look forward to sitting down for a nice chat with you later.” With that, she sailed out of the room, leaving Sabrina behind her in a daze.
“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “It truly will be no problem for Mother, as Phipps will take care of everything. He’ll be delighted to have a crisis to deal with. It’s rather boring these days with so few of us in the house. And while he is doing that, we need to get you something to eat.” He led her from the room and down a hall into the back recesses of the house. “I hope you don’t mind having a bite in the kitchen.”
“No, of course not.” It occurred to Sabrina that the kitchen staff might find it something of a problem to have them in their way.
But, as it turned out, the housekeeper, whom Alex affectionately called “Mrs. Bee,” and the cook were as seemingly unruffled as everyone else in this household by the two of them sitting down to munch on cheese and bread at one end of the scarred worktable while the work of the kitchen went on all around them. It was clear from the way they smiled and worked around Alex that they were accustomed to him popping in and wheedling a bite from them this way.
Sabrina was not sure what life was like in her own home, but she had the strong suspicion that nothing in the Moreland household would be considered normal. The butler, Phipps, did his best to convey a sense of dignity and severity when he entered, but his presentation was sadly undercut by the loud voice of the cook scolding a potboy and the heavy thwack-thwacks of the maid cutting up vegetables at the other end of the table.
“Pray permit me to show you to the Caroline chamber,” he said to Sabrina, bowing.
“No need, I’ll take her,” Alex said, ignoring the butler’s pained look. As he and Sabrina walked away, he leaned down and murmured, “Poor Phipps despairs of any of us ever showing the proper respect for our station. But his knees are getting arthritic and he oughtn’t to be tromping up and down the stairs. Besides, he’d have nattered on at you about the grand history of the Morelands all the way up, which might very well have sent you running again.”
Sabrina laughed. “I don’t think I’m in danger of that. Frankly, all I want to do at the moment is sleep. I’m rather tired.”
“I imagine you are. You must have been up before dawn if you got into London as early as you did. Not to mention that whatever happened to you must have been an ordeal.”
They climbed the staircase, which up close was every bit as wide and elegant as it looked from a distance. They turned to the left and were on the top step when a piercing noise, resembling the screech of a steam whistle, split the air.
Sabrina jumped and whirled. A large shaggy animal was bearing down on them at full speed.
“Steady on.” Alex said, his hand going to Sabrina’s elbow. “It’s only Rufus. And my nieces.”
The animal, she saw now, was a long-haired dog of some indeterminate origin. And hot on his heels was a red-haired moppet, hands outstretched and face gleeful. It was she who was emitting the ear-piercing noise. A little behind her came a slightly smaller girl of similar coloring, doing her best to keep up.
An attractive woman with hair the color of dark cinnamon hurried after the pair and called, “Athena! Brigid! Come here!”
Between the large dog, the madly running children and the wide marble staircase, it looked like a disaster in the making.
But then the woman called, “Rufus, stop!” She followed that with “Grab them, Alex, do—before they reach the stairs.”
Before Sabrina’s amazed eyes, the dog slid to a halt and ducked behind Alex, peering out around Alex’s leg at his pursuers. Alex grinned and reached down to scoop up the girls, one in each arm, and place noisy kisses on the cheek of each. “Escaped again, have you?”
The little girls giggled, their quarry apparently no longer of interest, and chanted, “Uncle Alex, Uncle Alex!”
The smaller girl reached up to pat Alex’s cheek, but the larger, faster one reached inside his jacket, searching. Alex laughed.
