For all its faults, New York's extensive public transit system had two great virtues. Riding it gave one time to think, and one was certain never to see any Larrabees on it.
Thus Sabrina consoled herself as she rattled homeward in the nearly empty train car.
He'd been hustling her. He'd all but admitted it. She had cherished a hope at the beginning that maybe, as she let him into her little world of candid observations and Paris memories, he would see that David's association with her was nothing for the Larrabees to be ashamed of.
Her conscience told her she was the one who ought to be ashamed for encouraging the attentions of a man formally engaged, behind the back of a woman who might even love David; but that had been easy to silence in the glow of finally receiving her years-long wish to be noticed by him. If a few days of being awkwardly squired around by Linus was her only obstacle to seeing David again (unmedicated), it was a small price to pay.
Then two things had happened within two hours of each other:
David had freely admitted he had no long-term plans with Sabrina beyond keeping their tryst in the solarium.
Linus — Linus! — had told her he wanted her.
Sabrina winced at how obviously caught off-guard she was. That must have been when Linus knew he had her. This afternoon she'd spent wandering Manhattan in a daze, distraught at the prospect of never seeing him again, was exactly the reaction he'd engineered with the timing of all his questions and confessions. She'd watched sleazy guys play the same game with the Vogue models so many times that she could predict their next move down to the minute; but from Linus, she never saw it coming.
Her thoughts again strayed to Louis. He'd led her out of her comfort zone and encouraged her to keep going, but he'd never pushed. It seemed like all the Larrabee brothers knew how to do was push. It was quite pleasant to be pushed by David. It was terrifying to be pushed by Linus.
Whether he'd intended this consequence or not, it now seemed plain that she would no longer be welcome at the Larrabee estate. She could become a shut-in who never left her father's apartment, or she could move away for good. But if she returned to Paris, it wouldn't be on Linus' ticket. She'd at least denied him that triumph.
To her great vexation, she still wished he'd really meant to come.
Her father was in his front room reading, as always. Sabrina knocked softly before pushing the door open.
"Gone to town again?" he asked pleasantly. When she didn't respond, he looked up. His expression grew troubled. "Sabrina."
"Dad," she moaned, feeling her face begin to crumple. He stood and closed the distance between them as she reached for shelter in his arms. He kissed the still-unfamiliar curls and stroked her head.
She breathed heavily and shed a few tears, but thankfully the shoulder of his waistcoat was spared a flood.
"Sabrina, if this house has become a miserable place for you, all you need to do is say the word and I'll give my notice."
"No, Dad, you can't do that." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "There's no guarantee anyone else would hire you at your age. And God only knows what the Larrabees would say now if they were contacted for references."
"Oh, I didn't say I'd need to look for work, Sabrina."
She sniffed and looked at him questioningly. Thomas took her hand and led her to the sofa, where he sketched a brief tale of how old Mr. Larrabee had unwittingly tutored him in stock trading with all the calls he'd made to his investment manager during their drives together. There was enough for Thomas never to have to work again, and to set Sabrina up on her own if she wished.
Sabrina squeezed his hand and shook her head. "No, Dad. I know you're happy here. Once David is married and in his own house, and Mrs. Larrabee has forgiven me for nearly overturning his engagement," with a little laugh, "I can come and visit you. I just need to get away again for a while."
Thomas regarded her with bittersweet resignation. "Back to Paris so soon."
"No. I can't go to Paris yet. It was all I talked about with Linus last night, and …" She paused, compressing her lips, trying to forestall another loss of composure. "I told him all my favorite places. Now I'm afraid that if I go there, I won't be able to visit any of them without thinking of him."
"Was it really so bad when you saw him today, then?"
She did sob at that, squeezing her eyes shut and covering them with her hand.
"It was awful," she whimpered. "At first, I was convinced he loved me. He asked me to go to Paris with him. He'd even bought us tickets."
Her father's face darkened.
"But then he made one little mistake. And suddenly I knew. He'd been herding me like an animal. He was trying to get me away from David, and he was willing to pretend to be in love with me to do it. But why?" she begged. "I'd already realized David had no plans for me. His fiancée was sure to come back soon. Why did he have to go to all that trouble to make me fall in love with him?"
Thomas sighed.
"To put it bluntly, David's fascination with you, if allowed to continue, would have cost the Larrabees a chance at well over a billion dollars."
He quietly explained the chatter among the household staff regarding Maude and Linus' fears for the merger after everyone, including the Tysons, had seen how entranced David was with Sabrina at the party.
Sabrina was aghast. "Is there no limit to what that man will do for money?" she cried. "Doesn't he have enough of it?"
Her father shook his head.
Sabrina sighed through her nose and looked off into space for a while. With that last exhale, all the light of her remaining dreams appeared to fade from her eyes, leaving them dark and cold.
The silent pair sat on the couch hand in hand, listening to the clock tick.
"Well," Sabrina spoke again presently, "I suppose that settles it. I'm not going to Paris. Not yet, anyway. My internship is over. I don't fit into my life there anymore. I won't spoil all the places I was so happy. This is too fresh."
"Where will you go, then?"
Sabrina paused and looked at him helplessly. "I haven't thought of anything."
A framed photo on the wall caught Thomas' eye. He walked over and looked at it. It was his sister Margaret, smiling brightly as she held the infant Sabrina.
"My sisters are always begging me to send them photos of you," he observed. "I'm sure they'd dearly love a visit. They both live in Derbyshire. There's quiet if you want it. When you get bored with the countryside, Manchester's not far. You still have your dual citizenship, you know. You could work there if you found a job you liked. And when you're ready, Paris is close enough that you can nip over for a weekend any time you like."
"Oh, Dad, that sounds lovely," she breathed. "And you won't tell the Larrabees where I've gone?"
"Only if you wish it. Not a word before."
"Yes, I don't want either of them getting any ideas. I mean … you know, don't lie, but … if you could manage it, I'd rather they thought I was in Paris than otherwise?" She twisted her hands uncomfortably.
Thomas just smiled. "If they know you've left the country, I doubt they'll ask any questions, Sabrina."
She regarded him with a touch of wistfulness. "I know I just said you shouldn't quit, but … you really could come too, Dad."
He looked around at the cozy apartment, with its outrageous piles of books and Joanna's flowers on the side table, and shook his head.
"No, my dear, I have enough to keep me busy here. Your mother and I gave you the best home we could, and Mrs. Larrabee has given you connections you can take wherever you go. I think it's time for you to make your own way in the world."
She smiled and nodded, lowering her head.
"Well, if you'll excuse me a moment, I have one last loose end to tie up."
She found David in the billiard room, working on his shot. He was civil but curt, miffed at having been stood up for the second night in a row. When she made it clear that she was leaving, he softened up considerably.
She kept her language vague enough that he didn't ask for specifics. He looked calmer and more mature than she'd expected. It was almost enough to make her love him again, if she hadn't been so thoroughly disillusioned. She couldn't resist slipping in a reference to having "won a ticket to Paris," to confirm any suspicions he might have about Linus' involvement. Let them hash it out.
Having obtained David's farewell with no hard feelings, she hurried up to her own room to pack. Sleep would likely not come tonight. There'd be plenty of time to sleep on the flight tomorrow. A phone call with a day's notice wasn't much time to give her aunts, but she could stay in a hotel if they needed time to get ready for her, or even start looking out for a flat.
Of all she'd brought back from Paris, the only things that stayed behind were a midnight blue evening gown and a little white box bearing the insignia of a tchotchke shop near the Eiffel Tower.
