His Sinful Heiress [Mature Read]

Chapter 11: The Bride Most Unwelcome

London, December 1884

It took Sabrina a prolonged moment of steady breathing to regain her composure within the safety of her chamber, though she also chided herself for wilting so quickly under His Grace's penetrating gaze and verbal jabs. She was a strong woman, capable of facing whatever came her way, was she not? Then why couldn't she be more eloquent and stinging in his presence, to knock those airs of superiority out of the prick's lungs?!

But Sabrina would have lied to herself had she not admitted that it stung greatly to be rejected by the whole family, and it certainly hurt to be refused so harshly by him in the first place. But maybe he would come around after the nuptials and getting to know her more intimately.

And if he doesn't? she pondered, and sighed aloud. Then it shall be an embrace of a whole other man I'd have to settle for, I'm afraid.

When she later saw the door to her chamber opening in her peripheral vision, she thought it was the duke at first, but it turned out to be a maid who announced that the evening repast was to be served. Apparently, Sabrina was the last to arrive at the dining hall, everyone having taken their respective seat, hence she approached the only free chair next to the duke's right side at the head of the table.

Nobody seemed to give her much attention, with Henry glancing only briefly at her and commencing his repast, followed by the clinking of cutlery as the family members followed suit. Also, nobody seemed eager to break the spell of quietude, making Sabrina feel like an intruder in their midst. Nevertheless, she began to cut and fork the morsels of the fine sustenance as a delicious pheasant in wine with carrots and potatoes was served this evening. Her focus was solely on the endeavour, feeling her hands tremble slightly.

It felt unnerving, almost disconcerting to her, though, as if the coldness that surrounded her and the entire hall was a part of a forlorn castle situated in some bizarre kingdom ruled by ice and frost. Sabrina discerned someone speaking, but the words did not quite reach her ears. Only when the duke cleared his throat and leaned towards her did she learn about the matter at hand.

"If you wish to feel welcome and included, Miss Hartley, it might be beneficial to actually respond to the questions." Seeing her bewildered gaze, he added, "My cousin Martin is asking you about New York."

She quickly regarded the gentleman, who appeared only a few years younger than Henry, and gulped. "Apologies, I-I was lost in contemplation."

"No offence taken," the gentleman responded and even mustered a faint smile. "I inquired whether New York is as decadent a place as they say it is."

"I do not condone speaking of decadence when children are present," Regina remarked sternly, her gaze piercing Sabrina as she was seated across from her potential daughter-in-law.

The smile on Martin's face dimmed as he returned his attention to his plate. But Sabrina felt her spirits rising, eager to incite a battle if she had to.

"I believe New York is a great city like any other of similar size and populace, even London, though I have only passed through it. You may find splendid landmarks there, just as you may find places of decadence, for the city suits everyone's needs rather splendidly, I daresay."

Sabrina's answer caused Regina to frown deeply. "Miss Hartley, I comprehend that everything is very new to you, and you may not yet be accustomed to this house's rules. But I shall be generous tonight, hence you are forgiven for being so... outspoken."

The dowager's cutting words would silence anyone with immediate effect, but not Sabrina.

"I am not apologetic to you, and I certainly have not asked for any forgiveness."