Tainted Bride (14 page)

Lady Blyth made a huffing sound. “Friendships are fleeting. A good marriage is what you need. That will keep you out of trouble and put your poor aunt at ease.” Since Lady Blyth was a bit hard of hearing, the comment rang against the wood paneling. The entire table had heard and stared in her direction.

Sophia didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks burned and she gulped down the lump in her throat.

Markus recovered first. “I must say, Lady Blyth, I disagree. I have had the same friends since Eton and I would be lost without them. For that matter, I cannot imagine my marriage would be half so wonderful if I did not consider my wife among my closest friends.”

She huffed again. “That’s fine for a man, but hardly good advice for a woman. Young women need to find husbands, preferably rich ones.”

“I shall not argue, my lady. I shall just disagree and leave it at that.” Markus said, diplomatically.

Lady Blyth’s blue hair bobbed up and down. Far from finished with the topic, she chewed her dove. “I was married at seventeen. This girl is approaching twenty. It’s appalling that she has not married. I have it on good authority she had a fine offer from Alistair Pundington years ago.”

Sophia stopped breathing. She was going to faint. Heat infused her face and sweat beaded above her lips. All the noise in the room was drowned out by the muffled roaring in her head. In her lap, her hands turned pale as parchment. She was actually going to faint dead away in the middle of dinner as if she was some character from a novel. She forced a deep breath, but it ended up only a gulp.

Then Thomas stood over her. “Miss Braighton, I think the heat must be too much for you. I wonder if you would spare me a few minutes in the garden?”

She gasped for enough breath to speak and took his offered hand. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Wheel.”

Sophia looked down the table at Daniel. He stood as did all the men when she did. Daniel scowled and his face colored dark red as if he might fly across the table and strike her down. She curtsied briefly and Thomas rushed her out of the dining room.

The cool air helped tremendously. As soon as they entered the garden, Sophia began feeling better. “Thank you, Tom.”

“It was nothing.” He waved off her thanks.

“It was much more than nothing.”

“Well, nothing any good friend would not have done for another.”

“Yes. I suppose.” She doubted many of her friends would have been able to extricate her from that dinner, but didn’t mention that. “May we sit a minute?”

He directed her to a bench a few feet from the door. The large veranda, surrounded by a rather wild garden looked nothing like the orderly garden at Fallon house in London.

Her face cooled and she breathed normally again.

“Sophia?”

Her eyes were closed and she concentrated on her breathing. “Hmm?”

“May I ask you a question?”

She opened her eyes and focused on Thomas. She’d been engrossed in not fainting, remembering to breathe, not thinking about what Lady Blyth said and not remembering how furious Daniel had looked. “You may.”

He watched her. “Is it true?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You rejected Pundington’s offer?”

“My father did.”

* * * *

Daniel stood just inside the door. Worried about Sophia, he couldn’t sit at the table any longer. When he heard what they were talking about, he stopped. He should have made his presence known or backed away when he heard the nature of the conversation. However, he stood just out of their sight, watched and listened.

“Were you in love with him?” Thomas asked.

“Good God, no!”

“Your father found him unsuitable?”

“He is unsuitable. Nearly three times my age at the time and he’s a horrible tyrant.”

A tyrant, what did she mean by that? He tried to will Tom to ask her what she meant.

“I see,” Tom said.

“No. You don’t. You can’t possibly know what my life in Philadelphia has been these last three years.”

“You can tell me. I’ll not betray you.”

“I would rather we talk about something else, Tom. Please.”

“All right, Sophia.”

Daniel waited for more information, but the conversation turned to the weather and he backed away from the door to rejoin his guests in the sitting room.

Sophia and Thomas arrived in time for tea and cake. Dory rushed to her and whispered something in her ear. Daniel assumed by the relief evident on Sophia’s face, Dory told her Lady Blyth had gone to bed early.

He didn’t know what to make of the conversation he’d overheard or horrible things Pundington had said about Sophia, but when she was near, his thoughts riveted on her. Her face and form distracted him as no other. If he was going to stay sane, he’d have to keep his distance.

“I’m telling you, Daniel, sssomething is not right.” It was after one in the morning and the two men had enjoyed several glasses of whisky together.

Daniel pulled a book off the shelf. He had no intention of reading the tome. He just needed something to do with his hands so he pushed it back in its place forcefully causing a loud thump. “What do you want me to do, force the girl to tell us why she refused Pundington? Besides, she did not say she refused him only that her father had.”

“I sh…should be angry at you for standing in the door…eavesdropping.”

“So, be angry.” Daniel stomped across the room for no particular reason. “I already told you, I was coming out to make sure she was all right after that hag Blyth’s boorish behavior and overheard the conversation. What did you expect me to do?”

“I ’spect you would act like a gentleman and not skulk in dark corners.”

Daniel turned back and stumbled. “I take offence to that remark.”

“I take offence to Pundington asking that girl for her hand. What was he thinking? He’s much too old for her, but at least it explains why he would wish to ruin her.”

“Does it?”

Thomas rolled his eyes and stood on wobbly legs. “Yes. He is ob…obviously still harboring ill will over being tossed oer…over.”

“Maybe.” Daniel wanted it to be true, but Jocelyn had acted the part of a good girl too and left him looking the fool.

Thomas laughed, stopped and then he laughed heartily.

Daniel watched him unable to keep from smiling at his unexplained mirth.

“I have to go to bed, my friend.” Thomas stumbled toward the door still chuckling.

“Wait, what is so funny?”

When Thomas turned back into the room, he gripped the door-jam to keep from tumbling to the carpet. “I was just thinking the last girl we both courted was Viviana Winkle. Do you remember? We were all of thirteen.”

Daniel rang for a servant. “I remember. She was a fetching little thing with the most charming freckles.”

Thomas grinned with half-lidded eyes and a bright red nose.

A footman opened the door.

“Please make sure Mr. Wheel gets to his room and his valet is present, Brady.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Thomas continued to laugh as he strode out of the library. The footman followed him closely.

“Viviana Winkle.” Daniel grinned watching Thomas disappear up the steps. He went back inside and lounged on the couch, satisfied he was not as drunk as Thomas.

He closed his eyes.

* * * *

After twisting in her sheets for hours, Sophia got up and put on her wrap. She tiptoed downstairs to find something to read in hopes a few minutes of reading might tire her. The entire evening continued to roll through her head and she couldn’t seem to close her eyes for more than a moment.

Shadows lurked in every corner. A few of the hall tapers remained lit and she wished she’d brought a candle from her room. She was already halfway down the steps when she realized not only was it dark, but her slippers remained in her room. Her feet chilled on the cold marble. Her thin wrap was not at all effective against the drafty hall. She walked faster and then stood at the bottom of the steps trying to remember which door led to the library. Certain it was on the left, she didn’t remember if it was the first door or the second. The second, with determination she pushed opened the door.

The candles burned down to nubs, but left the room lighted enough to see walls of books.

One step onto the thick carpet and she sighed with relief, though other than her feet, she was still freezing cold. Before traipsing through the drafty house it might have been wise to grab a blanket for warmth.

She crossed to the shelves and looked for something suitable to read. Perhaps some Shakespeare, only not a romance. A tragedy would be better, or something terribly boring would be the perfect remedy to her insomnia.

“Are you real, or a dream?” A sleepy voice said from behind her.

She spun around clutching her wrap, which was inadequate against both the cold and Daniel’s gaze. Her heart leaped into her throat. It had never occurred to her anyone else would be up at this hour. “My lord.”

“You must be real. If this were a dream, you would not look so shocked and afraid. If this were my dream, you would not be clutching that thin white wrap as if you needed protection against the horrible Lord Marlton. If this were my dream, you would come to me with your arms outstretched pleading with me to make love to you. If this were my dream…”

“All right. Enough. I think it is quite clear I’m real and this isn’t a dream.” His ridiculous monologue had eased her fears.

He chuckled and sat up. His eyes traveled down to her bare feet. He stared at them and smiled stupidly. “Are you cold?”

“What are you looking at?”

“You have the prettiest feet, Sophia.”

“Are you drunk?”

“A bit.”

“I must go.” She ran for the door, but stumbled. Remaining alone with the drunken Earl of Marlton was not an option. A drunken man was the worst kind, dangerous and unreasonable. Besides, if someone found them, she’d really be ruined.

Even drunk, he was swift and grabbed her arm stopping her escape. “Do not run away. I only want to look at your feet.” Then he looked at her eyes. He reminded her of a lost puppy. “Why does no one call you Sophie?”

Her heart pounded and she pulled her arm. Firm but gentle, he held fast. “My brother does, but he is the only one.”

“That is strange. You seem more like a Sophie to me. Sophia is so formal.”

“I shall allow you to call me Sophie if you will let me go.”

“Will you promise not to run away immediately?”

“As long as you keep your distance, my lord.” Why had she made that promise? She should have demanded he allow her to leave. What if a footman walked in? She and her aunt would have to leave the house. Daphne would likely send her back to Philadelphia.

He let her go and backed away several steps. His legs wobbled and he struggled to keep his balance. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”

Still, there was something lovely and intimate about being in his company. In spite of his having drunk too much, he drew her in and she loved the look of him. “Either honestly or not at all.”

“Why did you refuse Pundington?”

“Tom told you?” How could Tom call himself her friend and then go running to Marlton with her secrets?

He shook his head. “I overheard.”

“You were eavesdropping.”

He shook his head emphatically and gripped the back of the couch when he lost his balance. “I came to check on you and overheard. I apologize. If I were a better man, I suppose I would have immediately moved off when I heard the nature of the conversation, but I’m only human, Sophie. I wanted to know why Lady Blyth’s words had upset you to the point of nearly fainting into your plate.”

“And did you learn anything?”

He shrugged. Then he moved a step closer. “Not enough.”

She backed up a step, but he pursued her until he backed her up against the door and hovered over her. His hands caged her in on either side of her head.

His breath was sweet with spirits and her heart pounded.

She was afraid, but also curious about her desire to be near him. Never had she wanted to be this close to a man and certainly not one who’d been drinking. She whimpered as his head came down and he kissed her neck. She turned her head away. “Please don’t, my lord.”

“My name is Daniel.” He traced a path, with his tongue, up her neck to the soft skin behind her ear.

His mouth sent a jolt down her body. Her legs felt weak as if she too was drunk. She gasped. “Daniel, please.”

“Please what, Sophie?” He kissed her jaw and neck pushing away her wrap and grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her against him.

She froze. Any curiosity she may have had turned to terror when she felt his shaft hard against her center. Caged and helpless she waited for the pain to come. Tears streamed down her face. “Please, stop, Daniel. Please.”

He pulled away and took her face in his hands. Staring into her eyes, her fear seemed to sober him. “Shh, sweetheart. No one is going to hurt you.” He picked her up as if she was a child and placed her gently on the couch, then backed away continuing to study her.

She sat up clutching her flimsy white wrap at her neck. “Don’t look at me like that.”

His eyes were like hawk waiting to pounce on its prey.

Once again, a victim in a melodrama, she loathed herself.

His voice was soft. “Sophie, I look at you as a man looks at a woman he wants to make love to. I can look at you no other way.”

Wiping away her tears, she sat up straight. Deep breaths steadied her nerves as did the fact he wasn’t going to rape her. It was only her fear creating the drama. “I’m sorry for making a scene. I have been quite a bit of trouble for you and I apologize. Generally, I never cry or faint and I don’t usually traipse around in the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep and I thought a book might help.”

“Sophie?”

She looked up at him, but not into his eyes. His intense eyes would only make her cry. Something needed saying, but she was not at all sure what it was. “Thank you for not ravaging me, my lord.”

“Go back to your room, Sophie. It might be for the best.”

She practically leaped up from the couch and ran to the door. She didn’t even say goodnight before leaving the library and running up the steps to her room.