Free The Hawk and the Dove by Virginia Henley Page B

’twas a damned shabby trick even for a Hawkhurst, but, God’s blood, the joke is on him. He hasn’t the faintest idea of what he’s depriving himself. When I first saw you I thought you lovely enough to thicken a man’s blood in his veins, but now that I’ve seen you in a rage, I realize you are magnificent.If he got one look at what was his, he’d kill any man who dared glance twice at you.”
    “I’m not his yet! We haven’t exchanged vows.”
    “Will you cry off?” he asked. If she did he would propose to her himself.
    A frown marred her lovely brow as she thought over her alternatives. She couldn’t stay here. In fact, she didn’t quite know how she was going to face everyone tomorrow.
    “In all fairness I should tell you that if you do go through with it, you will be Lady Devonport.”
    She brightened instantly. “Then I shall do it!”
    “You’d marry him just for the title?” he demanded.
    She flared. “He’s marrying me for my land—a fair exchange, don’t you think?” Then it dawned on her. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Matthew—that means you have just lost your father.” She knelt beside him, instantly contrite and filled with tender concern. Matthew squeezed her hand. “His strength was so diminished, it was a blessing, really. He wouldn’t have wanted to live like that.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss. My father died when I was four. People thought I was too young to understand, but I wasn’t. I mourned and grieved for him so very long. He was the only person who ever loved me. He was my friend.”
    “I’d like to be your friend, Sabre,” he said softly.
    “Matt … how lovely. I do feel comfortable with you. When I curse, you don’t mind; when I rage, you laugh. I shock everyone, it’s my stock-in-trade, but you are wonderfully shockproof.”
    “I’ll be the perfect foil for your wickedest thoughts,” he teased.
    “Oh, you won’t just listen to me, you’ll aid and abet me,”she promised as she picked up the silver flask. “May I have some more?”
    “Slowly, Sabre,” he cautioned, “you sip it slowly so you don’t gag. It’s brandy. Don’t breathe in before you take a sip or the fumes will make you choke. If you take a large swallow, it will feel like it’s burning a hole in your gut.”
    She was pleased with her first lessons in learning to drink. Matt was going to prove an invaluable ally. “Oh, God’s blood, Matt, how will I face them all tomorrow? They’ll be falling down laughing; they’ll be kicking their legs in the air laughing at me.”
    “Sabre, your stepfather has sent messages canceling the church ceremony and reception. We will exchange the vows privately in his study. Then we’ll leave if your trunks are packed. You will be Lady Devonport. The title gives you much authority.”
    “Authority? Mmm, authority … oh, how I love the feel of that word on my tongue,” she said with a smile. “Did you bring money?” she asked suddenly.
    “Of course. I have five hundred pounds for you and five hundred pounds for your father. Of course, on top of that there are funds you can draw on for any expenses at Blackmoor. Hawk explains it in his letter.”
    Her eyes lit up. “Come on, let’s go and give Reverend Bishop his blood money!” She took his hand and propelled him to the door. Her hair flew about her shoulders like pale molten copper, and his heart turned over in his breast at her handclasp. Holding her head erect, Sabre swept into the drawing room with Matthew at her back.
    Everyone stopped talking instantly and stared in amazement. Only when she had everyone’s undivided attention did she announce, “Lord Devonport’s brother hasa settlement for you, Reverend Bishop. Matthew, pray give him five hundred pounds, and be sure to get a receipt for my account book.” She turned to her eldest sister. “Jane, have the servants pack my trousseau in my trunks and take special care with my wedding gown. I’m sure Lord Devonport will insist upon a second