Chapter 5
Five
Sabrina Fairfax made her way to the Duke of Avonridge’s town house in the company of her older brother, Viscount Whitley.
The carriage rolled to a gentle stop in front of the grand entrance, where uniformed footmen in polished boots and gleaming brass buttons awaited to assist the guests.
A low hum of conversation drifted through the air, mingled with the subtle scent of horse and evening air, heralding the arrival of the evening’s distinguished assembly.
Sabrina adjusted the folds of her gown—a delicate shade of periwinkle that complemented the cool blue of her eyes—before stepping from the carriage.
The silk brushed lightly against the carriage step, a whispering prelude to the evening’s festivities.
She inhaled, steadying herself. London dinners were always a performance, a careful balance of poise, grace, and just enough wit to leave an impression without scandal.
Tonight promised to be no different, though she could not deny a flicker of curiosity about the other guests.
Once they were announced her brother left her on her own.
Probably to find a friend of his to converse with.
Sabrina didn’t know, but she did care. Not because she didn’t want him to be with someone he trusted, but because she didn’t trust him.
Not after that letter. She had to uncover what her brother had become embroiled in.
She was still no closer to that information than she had been a week earlier.
At least she knew where he was and who he was with at this dinner party.
She scanned the gathering faces in the room and recognized Lady Lavinia and Lady Elizabeth Ellsworth, the duke’s own daughters, already engaged in animated conversation.
Their laughter chimed lightly over the polished marble floors.
Her brother strolled up beside them and then bowed with impeccable courtesy his expression betraying only the slightest hint of amusement.
What had one of them said to put that expression on Basil’s face? Perhaps she would ask him later.
Nearby, Viscount Slothington and his sister, Miss Persephone Sedgewick, lingered with the air of careful observation, while the Earl of Ravenwood was quietly surveying the room, a figure of composed authority amidst the gentle chaos of arrival.
And, of course, the Duchess of Avonridge presided over the gathering with an easy elegance, her smile bright, her manner both commanding and inviting.
None of them held her attention though. It wasn’t until the last guest was announced that she stiffened with unease.
The Duke of Lionston… Drat. She had hoped to avoid Leander, but apparently the Fates had other plans for her.
She prayed he would not attempt to have another disastrous conversation with her.
Sabrina turned away from him and hoped he would not notice her.
She would do her best to avoid him. Somehow, she doubted she would be so fortunate.
Sabrina felt a familiar flutter of anticipation, mingled with the usual awareness that every word, every gesture, would be noted and weighed.
She lifted her chin, swept a polite nod toward the Duke of Avonridge, and allowed herself a brief moment to take in the grandeur of the room.
Tonight would be an evening of appearances, of careful conversations, and, undoubtedly, of subtle intrigue.
She merely hoped she could navigate it without incident—and perhaps, with a touch of enjoyment, too.
Mostly she hoped to avoid creating a scandal that somehow involved Leander…
“Hello Sabella,” Leander said, his tone a little husky. “Did you think I wouldn’t know it was you if I couldn’t see your face?”
Damn the man… Slowly she turned to face him and carefully her face blank of any emotion. She cocked an eyebrow. “I could not possibly know what you are implying, Your Grace.”
“Don’t be cheeky, darling,” he said. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Sabrina stared at him. She didn’t say a word for several heartbeats.
Partially because an acceptable response had not crossed her mind.
Everything, absolutely everything, was inappropriate.
Then she smiled slowly and licked her lips.
“Trust me, Lee,” she said in a syrupy sweet tone.
“You don’t want to see the other side of me tonight.
It wouldn’t be pleasant for either of us. ”
“And if I do?” he asked, his tone challenging.
“Then I hope you are prepared for the consequences.”
Luckily for her he did not have time to respond.
The butler came into the room to announce that dinner was about to be served.
They had to retire to the dining room. The duke had opted for a slightly informal dinner party which meant that any gentleman could escort any lady into dinner.
There was no hierarchy to be followed. So, she wasn’t surprised when Leander looped his arm through hers and walked with her to the table.
He pulled her chair out for her and helped her to her seat, then he sat beside her.
Wonderful. That would mean she would be forced to converse with him through dinner.
“Why are you being difficult,” he asked.
“I am never difficult,” she replied. “I am honest. Do you wish me to be someone I am not?”
“I would never want that,” he told her. “I adore the woman you are.”
“Not enough, though,” she said under her breath.
The footman brought out the first course and set it in front of her.
The cream soup looked delicious, and she prayed it was because she intended to give it her entire focus.
She lifted a spoon and dipped it into the bowl and brought the first taste to her mouth.
It was creamy, but that was all she could say about it.
Sabrina could barely taste the rich broth.
With Leander by her side, she had little appetite for food.
She would never admit it to him, but what she truly desired had everything to do with him.
She was glad he was home. Ecstatic he was whole and healthy.
She would never have wished him harmed in any way.
She would rather take that sort of pain herself than wish it upon him.
That did not mean she had forgiven him or ever would.
It hurt her to be around him and know that she meant little to him.
That when all was said and done, he would never choose her.
To him, she was insignificant where to her he had been her world.
It was disheartening to have to accept that.
“Sabella…”
“I thought I told you not to call me that. It isn’t my name.”
He smiled. “You will always be Sabella to me.”
Leander was the only one who called her Sabella.
It was an endearment he started when they were barely out of the schoolroom.
One born in friendship before her heart had called it love.
Perhaps, in his own way, Leander did love her.
But not in the way she wanted him to, and because of that she could not allow herself to be drawn into his world again.
They may have to socialize, but she did not have to be his friend any longer.
“Be that as it may,” she said as she set her spoon down, “I would prefer you do not use it. We are not friends. Not anymore.”
“We were never just friends, Sabella dear,” he said in a light tone. “We both know that.”
Perhaps at one time she would have wished for that, but they had never taken the steps to something more than friends.
He had never made any declarations or held her hand, and he sure as hell had never kissed her.
Though she had wanted him to with a desperation that almost embarrassed her now.
Oh, what would it have been like to experience his kiss…
Would she have swooned? She would never know.
Sabrina pressed her lips together, holding herself rigid.
She would not allow the man to see how much his nearness unsettled her, how every word and glance from him teased at the frayed edges of her composure.
She had learned long ago that vulnerability was a dangerous currency—and she would not spend it here, not for Leander.
Dinner continued with the polite clatter of silver and muted conversation from the other guests, but for Sabrina, the world had narrowed to the space between herself and the Duke of Lionston.
She kept her eyes trained on the plate before her, on the simple elegance of the table setting, anything to avoid the pull she felt toward him.
And yet, she could feel his gaze, a warm weight pressing along the curve of her shoulder, lingering there as though he were memorizing her.
“You are quiet tonight,” Leander murmured, voice low and teasing, yet with a softness that unsettled her even more. “Something troubling you, Sabella?”
She paused, spoon hovering halfway to her lips, and allowed herself a single, deliberate shake of her head.
“No, merely enjoying the meal,” she said evenly.
Her tone carried no hint of invitation, no softness to betray her inner turmoil.
Besides what she felt for Leander, and that was disturbing enough, she also worried about her brother and whatever trouble he had involved himself in.
None of which she could tell the man sitting beside her.
He smiled then, that infuriating, confident tilt of his lips. “Ah, but you have always been one to hide far more than you reveal, have you not?” It was almost as if he had read her mind… Damn and blast…
“I do not hide,” she said, sharper than intended. Her pulse quickened despite her best effort. “I simply do not offer what is not asked for, and I do not owe my thoughts to any man. Least of all one who takes liberties he shouldn’t.”
Leander’s expression flickered with something almost like pain, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “And yet, you respond to me so fiercely,” he said softly, leaning a fraction closer. “Does that not mean something, my Sabella?”
She looked up at him with indignation scorching through her. “It means I will not be swayed by flattery or by memories that have no claim on me. That I will not be drawn into what cannot last.” That she would not fall for his charm ever again…
He sighed, leaning back with a hand brushing absently along the table’s edge, his green eyes steady on hers. “You are a remarkable woman, Sabella. But I do not seek to sway you with flattery. I seek only…truth. The truth you refuse to give me.”
Sabrina’s chest tightened, and for a brief moment, she wondered if he truly meant that, or if it was merely another ploy to unsettle her.
She lifted her gaze, catching the earnest light in his eyes.
In that instant, she realized just how much she had wanted him to see her, to acknowledge her, even for a fleeting second.
But she could not allow him to sway her even in the slightest.
“I have nothing to give you,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “And even if I did, I would not. You ask for something that is not meant for you.” She owed him nothing, including her truths.
Leander inclined his head, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Have it your way, Sabella.” He leaned a little closer.
Not enough for the other guests to notice, but just a slight movement that allowed him to speak quietly so only she could hear his next words.
“But rest assured, I will find out what you are hiding. Do not think I have forgotten anything about you. Something is troubling you, and I will discover what it is and see it dealt with. Whether you want me to or not.”
A shiver ran through her at his words. Sabrina pressed her hand to her lap and forced herself to remain composed.
She would not be drawn in tonight. Not when she knew how easily her heart could betray her, how dangerously her past with him could tangle with the present.
“Think what you will, Lee,” she said. “You are a stubborn man, but as I already told you, I have nothing to hide. So, investigate all you want.” She turned to him and glared at him.
“As long as you stay away from me, we will not have any issues.”
The rest of the meal passed in a careful dance of words, polite laughter, and subdued conversation, each moment a tightrope walk between civility and the unspoken tension that crackled between them.
And though she left the table with her composure intact, Sabrina knew, deep down, that the game between them had only just begun—and that one day, she might not be able to resist him at all.
Especially if he did discover what troubled her.
Because then she would never be able to rid herself of him.
Leander might have abandoned her for the war, but he had always been overprotective.
If he knew that Basil courted treason—well, then he would be incensed and furious beyond measure.
She had to prevent that if at all possible…