Free The Hawk and the Dove by Virginia Henley Page A

mistress.”
    “To court?” she managed to whisper.
    It was Matthew’s turn to flush. He looked away from the accusing eyes and said quietly, “No. I am to escort you to Blackmoor Hall near Exmoor Forest. It is one of my brother’s estates which is in need of a chatelaine. He has sent you letters of instruction about the estate,” he finished lamely.
    Her eyes burned with green fire. Anger and hatred consumed her to such a degree, it made it impossible for her to hear and think clearly. The whoreson Hawkhurst had slapped her in the face with the greatest insult she had ever received. It was the final, ultimate humiliation.She tried to speak, but the words choked her. Her hand went to her throat, then groped the air as her body swayed toward him. Matthew saw she was about to faint and swept the delicate burden into his arms. He looked down at her with a deep tenderness he had never felt before. Her eyelids fluttered like the wings of a dying butterfly and came to rest upon her cheeks. Her sweet mouth looked so young and so vulnerable. His brother was a swine to have done this to an innocent girl.

Chapter 5
    Mrs. Bishop was at Matthew’s elbow. “Oh, dear. Could you carry her up to her chamber, Mr. Hawkhurst?”
    Matthew followed her upstairs, glad to escape from the roomful of women. He quickly averted his eyes from the bed, and instead laid his burden upon a small sofa under the window. Mrs. Bishop fluttered about ineffectually, and he found himself now calming the mother. “Do you have any brandy, ma’am?”
    “Oh, no!” she said, shocked. “The reverend wouldn’t allow such a thing in the house. Whatever am I to do? Burn feathers, do you think, or slap her sharply in the face?”
    “No, no, ma’am. She will be fine. She will come to in a moment. It is just shock. Mrs. Bishop, do you think I might have a private word with Sara? I’m sure I can explain the situation to her in such a way that she will accept and understand.”
    Mrs. Bishop cast him a doubtful look, but she turned matters over to him without demur. She wasn’t feeling at all well herself and sought her own bed before collapse should overtake her.
    When the door closed, Matthew drew forth a small silver flask and gently tipped a small amount of brandy to Sara’s lips. She choked and bolted up from the sofa, almost knocking him to the floor.
    “That bastard!” she panted. “He’s made me the laughingstock of Cheltenham!” She put her hands to her temples and gave vent to a piercing scream. Matthew eyed the door nervously, thinking an outraged father would fly through the door to avenge his daughter.
    Sabre laughed hysterically. “None will dare come through the door while the ‘Wilde’ woman is throwing a tantrum.” She reached under the bed, drew forth the sabre, and waved it in the air. “That rotten sod, if I had him here I’d run him through.”
    “Sara—” he began, very worried now.
    “I’m not Sara. They wouldn’t allow me to be Sara Bishop. I’m Sabre … Sabre Wilde … named for my father and his weapon.”
    He looked at her with awed admiration. “Sabre is a magnificent name. It suits you perfectly.”
    “Your brother has ruined my life!” she cried dramatically. “I’ll ruin his if it’s the last thing I do!”
    “Sabre … in all honesty, he couldn’t be here. The queen commanded him to remain at court.”
    “The queen?” She scowled, finding another outlet for her hatred. An unreasoning jealousy flamed through her heart. Her bridegroom had ignored her to dance attendance upon the bloody queen! “By God, I’ll show Hawkhurst! Him and the queen, on my oath! I’ll make them pay … I’ll make them pay forever!”
    She threw down the sabre with a flourish and her breasts rose and fell as she took great breaths to calm herself.
    Suddenly Matthew began to laugh.
    Green sparks shot from her eyes. “Gaping jackanapes … what’s so funny?” she demanded hotly.
    “Nay, lass, I’m on your side. I agree