It was obvious that she was unfamiliar to him, yet she felt as if she knew him. The instant she saw him, elation had risen in her, as if she had found something important and exciting. Yes, she had been in a desperate state, scared and hoping for help, but what she had felt seemed much more than simply reaching a person who might be able to help her.
It wasn’t relief that sent little sparks shooting down her nerves when he smiled at her. Nor was it safety that made her insides warm just now as she watched him walking toward the house, long-legged and lean. Everything about him—the thick black hair, the soaring cheekbones, the dark slashes of his eyebrows above clear green eyes—drew her. Even the sound of his voice was somehow stirring.
It was all disturbing...yet perversely delightful, as well. Even now, just thinking about him, she felt that same heat blossom deep inside her, aching and hungry. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, to have his arms slide around her in a way that wasn’t about comfort or security at all. Her skin tingled at the thought of his touch.
Was this usual? Was this normal? It didn’t feel so. It felt strange and exciting. But perhaps it was quite familiar to her. How was she to know? Perhaps she was a woman of experience, and that was simply something else she’d forgotten. Perhaps she was a wanton.
She had no way of knowing, any more than she could be certain of anything about herself. She believed that she was a good person, that she had lived a pleasant, harmless life. But how could she be sure?
A quiet knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and a maid came in. Sabrina stood up, and the maid came over to kneel at her feet, beginning to measure and pin along the bottom of the skirt.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name,” Sabrina said.
“Prudence, miss,” the girl said.
“I apologize for causing so much work.”
“Oh, there’s always something to do round the house,” Prudence responded cheerfully. “I like the sewing better than some things. I’m hoping to be a ladies’ maid one day.” She sighed. “Though then I’d have to leave Broughton House. The duchess has Sadie already, and the marchioness don’t use one.”
“I take it you enjoy working here?”
“Oh, yes, miss. Mr. Phipps is a stickler—you have to do your work well. But he’s fair. And the family is kind, even if they are a wee bit...different. There’s some that think their ways are too odd. But the animals don’t bother me, and even if I don’t understand a lot of what she says, I don’t mind when the duchess goes on about voting and sanitation and such. And it’s not fair to say Lady Thisbe blows things up. There was just that one little fire in her workroom.”
“I see.” Sabrina pressed her lips firmly together to keep from laughing.
“You have to be careful not to touch the duke’s old pots and such, of course. And Lord Bellard gets upset if you move his little men.”
“His little men?”
“The toy soldiers he has set up—a terrible lot of them.”
“Lord Bellard? There’s another child living here?”
“Oh, no, miss, Lord B’s old—he’s the duke’s uncle. He’s sweet, really, even if he never remembers your name. For myself, I’m happy not to have to dust all those little things—or the duke’s pieces of plates and cups. Some say the Morelands are too free and easy, but I like it that they don’t have their noses in the air. Everyone here gets a day off every week, not just every other, and they pay more than anyone else. The duchess insists.”
“They have been very kind to me.”
Prudence looked up at Sabrina. “Is it true what they say, miss? That Lord Alex found you and you can’t remember your name?”
“Well, I think I found him, but yes, I don’t remember my name or anything else.”
“My...” She let out a long sigh. “Isn’t that a wonder?”
“A wonder?” Sabrina glanced at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“It’d be grand, wouldn’t it, to be whoever you wanted? Choose your own name, where you lived, what you liked?” Prudence sat back on her heels, surveying her work with satisfaction. “There you go, miss. We can start on the next, if you’d like.”
Sabrina stared at her, struck by the girl’s words. Perhaps she was looking at her situation all wrong. Her slate was wiped clean. It didn’t matter what kind of person she had been in the past. Starting today, she could be whoever she wanted. She and she alone could decide how she wanted to act, what she wanted to be, what she thought and felt and did. She could, in short, create herself.
She should be excited, not scared. What lay before her wasn’t a deep abyss, but a limitless horizon. “Yes,” she said, a smile curving her lips. “Let’s begin.”
SABRINA SPENT MUCH of the afternoon trying on dress after dress while Prudence pinned the hems. However, she was sure the trouble was worth it when she saw Alex’s expression as she walked down the stairs that evening dressed as a woman. She wore a lavender silk gown that belonged to Olivia and hadn’t needed to be hemmed. Though it was largely devoid of ornamentation, it nipped in at the waist and flared to a small bustle in back, showing off her figure to perfection. The wide neckline bared her throat and much of her shoulders.
Alex’s eyes widened, growing suddenly brighter, and he jumped up from the bench where he sat and went to her, reaching up a hand to her as she came down the final two steps. “Women’s clothes become you.”
He leaned in closer, his smile small and intimate, and Sabrina thought for an instant that he was going to kiss her. Fortunately, he did not try, for she had the deep suspicion that she would have kissed him back, and that thought was even more unnerving than the light in his eyes. Kissing, she realized, was not something she was accustomed to doing, no matter how licentious her thoughts had been this afternoon.
Dinner was a small affair, with only Alex and his parents and his small, quiet uncle, Theo and Megan having a prior engagement. Sabrina was grateful. She had been nervous at the thought of meeting a duke, who surely would be more intimidating than a duchess.
However, as it turned out, the duke was a genial man—and very easy to engage in conversation. As long as she smiled and nodded now and then, he was happy to keep up a monologue about Roman and Greek architecture, artifacts, history—indeed, anything to do with ancient Greece and Rome. The fact that she understood only two-thirds of what he said was apparently not a drawback. Uncle Bellard gave her a shy smile and said nothing at all.
When the meal was over, they all lingered around the table, talking, which, memory-less as she was, Sabrina was quite sure was not the normal course of things. None of them even seemed to find it odd when the duchess had a glass of brandy along with the men.
She was grateful when Alex glanced across at her and smiled, then said, “Scintillating as I’m sure our conversation is, I suspect our guest is beginning to flag. It’s been a very long, hard day.”
Sabrina politely protested, but the duchess nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s
