The Baron Novels 1-3 by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2012-02-08T05:00:00+00:00

21

Sabrina didn’t move even though her arm was getting numb. She didn’t want Margaret to know she was awake yet. She felt the soft cotton of her own nightgown against her skin. It felt wonderful. How kind of Elizabeth to send her clothing to Moreland.

She felt consumed with misery at her own helplessness. She had to regain her strength soon so that she could go to her grandfather, assure herself that he would be all right, and convince him that it would be better for all of them if she went to London. It occurred to her that she would now have to apply to Trevor for her inheritance from her mother, the ten thousand pounds that was hers upon her eighteenth birthday. It belonged to her, and even Trevor couldn’t prevent the solicitors from turning the funds over to her. How very disappointing for him that she hadn’t died. A sob rose in her throat. She tried to keep it swallowed, but it was no good. The sob burst from her mouth like the sound of a dying chicken. That almost made her smile.

“Bree, my love, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

Sabrina raised glazed eyes to Margaret’s face as she poured Sabrina a cup of tea. Her childhood friend who’d married a man she loved; a childhood friend so happy it hurt to look at her. “I’m alive,” Sabrina said. “Really, I’m alive. No need for you to worry so, Margaret.”

“Of course I’ll worry. Do you have any pain, Bree? Shall I fetch Dr. Simmons for you? He’s still downstairs, speaking to Phillip, I believe.”

Sabrina felt Margaret’s hand, soft, and featherlight on her forehead. She missed Phillip’s hand, solid and strong. She grabbed Margaret’s hand. “No, Margaret, I’m fine, really. I’m very grateful to you and Charlie for bringing me here to Moreland. I couldn’t have gone back to the Abbey. Thank you. I’ll be strong again, really soon now. You know me, I’ve always healed faster than I deserved. Soon, Margaret, soon I’ll take my leave of you. Another day, perhaps two.”

Sabrina wondered dispassionately what her aunt Barresford’s reaction would be when she arrived on her doorstep. Would Elizabeth write to tell her that Sabrina was a slut, a trollop, a—? She didn’t know any more words for loose immoral women. No, Elizabeth didn’t want her to return to Monmouth Abbey. She’d keep her mouth shut.

From what she knew of Aunt Barresford, she didn’t think the lady would turn her away, not with ten thousand pounds in her purse.

“You’ll stop the nonsense, Sabrina. I won’t hear another word out of you. You’ll stay here until I tell you that you can leave. Listen to me, even at this moment, Charlie is getting rid of the Christmas guests. I won’t have to leave you. My husband Hugh will be arriving from London in two days and we’ll all celebrate Christmas together. It will be quite like old times.

“Remember that one Christmas when you and I were angry at Charlie

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