Page 43 of His Sinful Touch

It was not a common attitude among young ladies, but Miss Holcutt’s cool expression and tight smile, her stiff stance, the very proper, even bland way she dressed, all added up to the sort of woman who would disapprove of the Morelands on general principle. If Con had somehow offended her as well, her feelings might be stronger. In that case, it would be little wonder if Miss Holcutt thought her friend would be better off not living with the Morelands.

There was even the possibility that Miss Holcutt was not really an impartial friend, but an active participant in what had happened to Sabrina. They had only her word that she was Sabrina’s friend. Just as with Peter’s claim of marriage, it was an easy thing to say when there was no chance of Sabrina knowing it was false. And that look of dismay when she first saw him—perhaps it was not because she thought he was Con but simply because Sabrina had someone there to protect her.

So deep was he in thought about Miss Holcutt that it seemed almost fate when he saw her step out of a carriage in front of Broughton House just as Alex walked up. She was dressed in fashionable but circumspect clothes, as she had been the evening before, her carriage straight, her bright red-gold hair hidden beneath a prim straw bonnet.

“Miss Holcutt.” He politely swept off his hat as she turned toward him.

“Lord Moreland.”

“Please, call me Alex. There are far too many of us Lord Morelands in the house.”

“Very well.” Miss Holcutt regarded him shrewdly. He had the feeling she was recording and itemizing all his traits.

“You are here to see Miss Blair, I take it.”

“Yes. I know I am excessively early, but Sabrina seemed quite anxious.”

“She will be delighted to see you. Please, come in.” He accompanied her to the front door.

On the stoop at the top of the steps, she turned to him abruptly, her face set. “I must tell you, sir, that I am not intimidated by your family’s title.”

“Indeed? Well, that’s settled, then.” Alex suppressed a smile. He could not help but admire the determined way Lilah Holcutt faced him, and he realized that he hoped his suspicions about this woman would be proved wrong.

“No, it’s not,” she said firmly. “What I am saying is that I have no intention of allowing you to take advantage of Sabrina.”

He looked at her levelly. “That makes two of us, Miss Holcutt. Please, come inside.”

Chapter Fifteen

SABRINA SAT IN the sultan room, trying to recall what she had dreamed the night before. It had frightened her, she was sure of that, but the dream had vanished as soon as she woke up. She thought it had been something other than the nightmare of falling that she had had the first night she’d slept in Broughton House. Indeed, she had not experienced that dream since.

However, the harder she sought to remember the details of last night’s nightmare, the further the memory retreated. It was a relief when Alex and Lilah walked into the room. She jumped up and started toward her friend. “Lilah! I’m so glad you came.”

“I was fortunate enough to run into Miss Holcutt as I was coming in,” Alex told her. “I hope you will not mind if I join you ladies.”

“No, of course not.” Sabrina smiled at him, then turned to Lilah, who was glancing around the room, doing her best to conceal her astonishment at the lush red room and its tentlike fabric ceiling. “Please, sit down with me and tell me...oh, everything, really.” Sabrina tugged her friend down onto the sofa beside her. “I remember nothing.”

“It is so odd. What do you remember?” Lilah asked.

“I remember nothing before I woke up on a train in Paddington Station over two weeks ago,” Sabrina said. “I had no idea who I was or why I was there.”

“But how did you come to be here?” Lilah glanced over at Alex.

“Sabrina came to Con’s agency—perhaps you are aware that my brother Con has an investigative agency.”

“Yes.” From the tightening of her mouth, Sabrina suspected Lilah had little regard for Con’s business.

“I happened to be there instead.”

“Alex’s family took me in,” Sabrina said. “It was extremely good of them, for I must have looked very disreputable, what with the bruises on my face and being dressed in men’s clothing.”

Lilah’s jaw dropped. “Bruises! What... But why—”

“I don’t know the answer to any of that. But we’re inclined to think that I was running away.”

“From Mr. Dearborn?” Lilah asked in shocked tones. “Surely not. Why, he’s been your guardian for years. You are...were fond of him. I thought.”

“I have no idea how I felt about him or what our relationship has been. Please, tell me about the Dearborns. Why is he my guardian? What happened to my parents?”