Page 20 of His Sinful Touch

“Don’t fret, Emmeline.” The duke smiled benignly at his wife and reached over to pat her hand. “I’m certain you’ll get arrested one of these days.”

The duchess laid her hand on his. “Thank you, dear.”

The conversation continued in the way Sabrina soon learned was the normal course in the Moreland household—the room was lively and noisy and filled with laughter, as there was talking across the table and down it, multiple conversations with the participants switching from one conversation to another and topics wandering all about.

At one point, Megan, across the table from Sabrina, leaned forward and said confidingly, “Yes, it’s always like this. You’ll get used to it after a while. The first few days I was here, I was surprised. It was more like my family’s mealtimes, not what I expected from the British aristocracy.”

“It’s quite...wonderful, I think.” Sabrina grinned. “I have the feeling, though, that it’s not what I’m accustomed to.”

“Still no glimmer of memory?”

“No.” Sabrina went on to tell her of her dream the night before, carefully expurgating what followed afterward with Alex. “So I wonder if I might have fallen.” She shrugged. “That seemed important information last night. Now I don’t know if that’s really any help.”

“It’s a new bit of knowledge—it’s bound to help. I promise, as soon as we’re done at the Women’s Franchise League, I’ll start making the rounds of my contacts.”

The meal wore down and the women left, with Rafe and Theo offering to escort them to their destination. Alex rose and turned to Sabrina. “Ready to investigate?”

“Yes, of course.” She popped to her feet.

“Good. Then let’s be off.”

“What are we doing? Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” There was a twinkle in his eyes, and Sabrina was reminded of her feeling the evening before that Alex was holding something back.

“You’ve found out something!”

“Perhaps.” He smiled.

Sabrina stopped, putting her hands on her hips. “Alexander Moreland, you tell me what it is right now.”

He laughed. “You’re as easy to tease as my sisters.” He held up his hands as she started to take him to task. “No, wait, don’t ring a peal over me. I’ll tell you.” He reached inside his jacket. “Yesterday I found something in the jacket you were wearing.”

“What? How? I looked all through the pockets.”

“This was quite small and caught in the corner of an inside pocket.” He reached into his pocket, drew forth a small square of paper and held it up. It was a plain sheet of stiff paper, rather like a ticket, but only half the size of the train tickets. A set of four numbers was written across the top.

“What is it?” It didn’t look like anything that would bring that look of suppressed excitement to Alex’s face. “A ticket? To what?”

“It’s a baggage claim. You have luggage waiting for you. And we are going to Paddington Station to retrieve it.” Taking her arm, he swept her off down the hall.

Chapter Seven

IT WOULD HAVE been a more satisfyingly grand exit, Alex thought, if they had not had to first collect their hats and gloves and Phipps had not insisted they take the Moreland town coach. But when the butler looked at him in that pained way and said, “But, sir, the ducal carriage is the appropriate transportation for a genteel female guest, not a common hansom,” Alex had no choice but to give in.

“Sorry,” he said to Sabrina as they waited on a bench in the hallway for the carriage to be brought round. “Poor Phipps is very grieved by our family’s lack of decorum. And no one except Reed or I will throw him a sop of grandiosity now and then.”

Sabrina laughed. “I don’t mind. Besides, it gives me a chance to take you to task.”

“That’s what I feared.” Alex smiled, belying his words. He enjoyed looking at her, her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. How lovely she was; he wasn’t sure whether it was her eyes or her heart-shaped face or her thick black hair that drew him more. He never would have guessed that a woman could look so enticing with short hair. Despite Sabrina’s best efforts to pin the mass of curls up into something resembling the sort of upswept hairstyle women wore, strands of hair kept escaping, framing her face with curls.

“Why didn’t you tell me last night that you’d found this ticket for my luggage?”

“I wanted to surprise you. Besides, we couldn’t go until this morning anyway. I could have gone yesterday afternoon before supper, but you were busy, and I assumed you would wish to go, too...” He trailed off, his tone questioning.

“You’re quite right about that.” Sabrina turned the chit of paper around in her hand, studying it as if it might give up some vital secret. “I’m not sure I’ve seen one of these before. Have I just forgotten?”

“You’ve probably never dealt with checking in your luggage. A young lady wouldn’t, as a rule—a maid or escort would have done it for you. Or perhaps you never traveled much.”