Tainted Bride (23 page)

“Oh? I hadn’t realized you were here when his mother died.”

Mrs. Grover stood up with a heavy sigh and pulled two loaves of bread from the oven. “I’ll never forget that night.”

The yeasty aroma filled Sophia with a dozen happy memories and made her stomach rumble in spite of a hearty breakfast. “It was the night his lordship was born?”

Mrs. Grover shook her head and cut a two-inch slice out of one loaf. She slathered it with butter, put it on a plate and passed the sumptuous bite to Sophia. “No, the poor lamb suffered for three days with a fever before the good lord finally took her. The earl was beside himself, he was.”

“Terrible.” Sophia put the bread down and gulped back a tear.

“He never recovered. Oh, it was better once he remarried, but the light was gone from his eyes. He did adore the little miss though.”

“What about the current earl? Did his father adore him as well?”

“Ahhhch.” Mrs. Grover shook her head. “That, he never did. He was brokenhearted over his first wife and he never really got over blaming the boy for her death.”

“But, that’s ridiculous.”

“People do some strange things when they grieve, milady.”

“I suppose that must be true.”

“Ay, it is.” She looked away, lost in thought then smiled. “It was a good day when the old earl married again. We were all so pleased when Lady Marlton fell instantly in love with our boy. She raised him as her own and she was little more than a child herself. We was all so relieved the poor little boy had a mum to look after him.”

Sophia thanked Mrs. Grover and they arranged to meet each morning after the meal to discuss the day’s menu.

Wondering what Daniel remembered of the time before Janette had come to Marlton occupied much of her thoughts. He’d been a baby. Did he even want children? After all, they had never spoken of it. Panic roiled in her belly, but she forced herself to stay calm. He had to have an heir and most English gentry liked to have a spare as well. If she were fortunate, perhaps she would have a girl first and then she might have three children. Three is a good number, she told herself. Now that she was married and not afraid of what happens between a man and a woman, she longed to have a large family.

Living in America away from all of her father’s and mother’s families, she had felt sad during the holidays when their friends would have large family gatherings and they would only have the four of them for company. She would just ask him.

* * * *

“So, what is it you think he’s doing?” Daniel sat in a wooden chair. Markus’s study had few soft surfaces.

Thomas leaned against the large desk, which occupied most of the room. “The thing is, I’m not entirely sure yet.”

Renewed aggravation gnawed at his gut. “How hard can it be to find out what a shipping magnate is shipping?”

Markus, having always been the most reserved of the four, reported the facts with little emotion. “It stands to reason that whatever he is doing is illegal, or it would be quite easy to find out.”

Daniel nodded. “Braighton told me before they ended their association they were having a difference of opinion as to what type of business they were running. My father-in-law was perfectly happy, and very rich, shipping spices and grains from the east and America.”

“This was not satisfying for Pundington? Was he not getting as rich?” Thomas asked.

“He was quite rich, all right, but he’d squandered some money and he owed someone a favor. Mr. Braighton wouldn’t go into detail about to whom the favor was owed. Pundington had to move goods from the East Indies to England, but he declined to divulge to his partner what the shipment was. Under the circumstances, Braighton refused. Shortly after that, they ended their partnership.”

“Sugar?” Markus said.

“I cannot imagine Charles Braighton would be offended by the shipping of sugar to his homeland,” Thomas said.

“It must be something illegal.”

“Absinthe?” Markus suggested.

“Perhaps, but slaves are more likely.” Thomas ran his fingers through his hair.

“Slaves, negro slaves, here in England. Who would he sell to?” Markus stood from behind his enormous desk. The out of character outburst turned all their heads toward their host.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Don’t be naïve, Markus. There are people who will buy, even here, on the king’s soil. However, if all of this speculation is correct, I have been looking for information in the wrong place. Michael may be having more luck.”

Markus said, “Michael is rather bogged down in his own troubles at the moment. His father has left him in a pickle.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I have some old contacts from the Army who may be of help.” Thomas sat in the other chair.

“I would appreciate anything that would make it possible for me to crush Pundington financially. And, if I can get him tossed from England permanently, that would be a great benefit.” For the first time in his life, Daniel wished murder were legal. He would thoroughly enjoy killing Alistair Pundington slowly and painfully.

“If he is trafficking in human flesh, I shall be happy to use all of my influence to stop him, Dan.”

“I know, Markus and I’ll be happy to take you up on that offer as soon as we know for certain what he’s up to.”

“How is your honeymoon going?” Thomas asked.

“My wife was most displeased when I left today.”

“So, it’s going well then.” Markus grinned stupidly.

Daniel ignored the innuendo. “How about some of that fine brandy you keep in that massive desk of yours, Markus?”

Markus pulled a bottle out of a desk drawer. “What is wrong with my desk?”

Thomas and Daniel exchanged a look.

“Nothing,” Daniel said.

“Nothing at all,” Thomas agreed.

Markus looked at them both and then smiled. “I know it’s a bit large, but Emma purchased it as a gift to me and what was I to do? I couldn’t tell her it is far too large for the room. She would have been heartbroken.”

“You might consider removing all the other furniture. And we could all sit on the desk.” Thomas rapped his knuckles on the desk.

They drank and joked until dusk when Daniel left them to go home to his bride.

* * * *

It was late when he arrived home, but he found his wife waiting for him in his study.

She wore a blue dress, which was fetching and low cut in the front.

If he took a guess, he would also say his sweet, innocent wife had dampened her undergarment in order to make her gown show every curve to her advantage. He found himself both intrigued and cautious as to why she felt the need to seduce him.

“You are looking lovely tonight, Sophie.” He walked in, leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you. Do you like the dress? Aunt Daphne said it was obscene, but she purchased it for me anyway.” She rose and gave a spin so he saw the entire frock.

“Very becoming and perhaps only a bit obscene.” He grinned, knowing he must have looked like a smitten idiot. Perhaps there was truth in that.

She looked down at the dress and mumbled something to herself.

“Is something on your mind, my dear?”

In spite of the alluring dress and the coy look she’d given him when he arrived, she frowned and plopped down in the large chair opposite his desk. She looked dejected.

He leaned against the desk in front of her. “Something is on your mind.”

The door opened and a maid carried in a tray with two glasses and a bottle of wine. She looked at the coffee table near the couch and then at the two of them by the desk.

“It’s all right, Molly, you may leave it here on the desk.”

Molly looked at the earl and then at Sophia’s frown. She rushed over, placed the tray on the desk, curtsied and ran from the room.

Daniel poured the wine. “You have laid an elaborate trap to catch me, Sophie, and you already have me. What happened in the last few hours to make you think you needed to go to such lengths to attract me and why have you given up? I can assure you, your trap would have worked.”

She looked up and he saw the tigress. Then she was gone. “I thought to woo you and then ask you something. But now I’m not sure about the wooing or the question.”

He handed her a glass of wine and crouched in front of her. “Ask me.”

“I should not.”

“Sophia, have I ever been harsh with you? Have I led you to believe you cannot talk to me? You may ask me anything.” His heart beat faster. What had changed in so short a time?

“Do you want children?” she blurted without looking at him.

A smile pulled at his lips. Relief flooded him. She worried about the most amazing things, his little American. “Look at me.”

She did.

“What brought this on?”

“Do you?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you when you tell me what brought you to such worry over the subject.”

She stood suddenly.

He grabbed the arm of the chair to steady his perch or be knocked over.

She paced. “I was speaking to cook. She told me about your mother passing after you were born and I realized we had never discussed them. I really don’t know you that well and I do love children. I only have one brother and he is often reticent. I became worried you would not want children, but I thought if I pleased you it might be possible to talk you into more than just an heir and so I planned all of this.”

He leaned back against the desk. “Do you breathe at all when you ramble like that? I’m very fond of children. I have never given the idea of having them much thought beyond the necessity for an heir. However, I should think as long as your trouble in giving birth to the first was not life threatening, then we could possibly have a few more, if you wish it.”

She smiled and jumped around the room until she found him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. Her wine was forgotten across the room and his now spilled on the rug. “I’m so glad.”

He steadied his breath and controlled his emotions. She bewitched him. “I can see that you are. But I’ll not tolerate you taking unnecessary risk, Sophia. One child first and then we shall see.”

“Yes, my lord.” Her smile remained enthusiastic.

On the tenth day of their honeymoon, Daniel read a missive and then came to break his fast. “I have to leave you again today, Sophie. I have a meeting.”

“Here in the country?”

“It’s important. I shall leave after luncheon.”

She nodded.

An hour later, they were in the garden enjoying one of the last fine days of summer, when Jasper, Sophia’s footman, delivered a message to his lady. She opened it, paled, and the paper fell from her hands.

Daniel picked it up from the grass. Lady Collington wrote that Mr. Braighton had been struck down by an episode and the doctors suspect apoplexy. Heart pounding, Daniel called out to the retreating footman. “Have her ladyship’s maid pack her trunks as quickly as possible and call for a carriage to be brought around. You will go with your lady, of course.”

Jasper started for the house, but stopped. “My lord, what is amiss?”

Daniel was not accustomed to servants who asked questions, but he accepted that this footman was not English. Besides, the man was concerned for Sophia. “Mr. Braighton is gravely ill.”

The footman’s eyes widened and he ran.

“Sophia, look at me.”

She looked up with vacant eyes.

“I cannot go with you today. I have to attend to some important business. I’ll follow in a few days. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand.”

* * * *

Gloom settled over Collington House. Wells opened the door, but said nothing as he took Sophia’s hat and coat. She moved passed him into the parlor.

Angelica’s eyes were red and swollen. Sophia tried to remember ever seeing her mother cry before and only the night when Pundington had raped her came to mind.

“How is he?” She hugged her.

“The doctor was just here.”

“What did he say?”

Angelica’s eyes were so sad and lost Sophia looked at the ceiling or the floor, anywhere but at her mother.

“Your father was asking for you two nights ago. He was a bit confused and then he stumbled and fell. He has not woken since then. I talk to him, but he does not hear me.”

She hugged her again. “Go lay down, Mamma. You’re tired. I’ll go and see papa.”

The sick room was dark and stuffy. Aunt Daphne sat beside her nephew. Sophia thought for the first time Daphne looked small and old.

“Hello, Aunt.”

Daphne stood with the help of the tall bedpost. “How are you, dear?”

“Fine.”

Daphne looked toward the door. “Is Marlton here?”

“No, his lordship had business that could not wait.” She didn’t recognize the cool tone of her voice.

“I see.”

“How is my father?”

Daphne shook her head and hugged her. It was the first time Aunt Daphne had initiated affection. “I’ll not lie to you, Sophia. The doctor does not hold out much hope. We must pray for a miracle.”

Sophia nodded and sat in the chair Daphne vacated. The left side of Charles Braighton’s face drooped and his skin was tinged sickly gray. His normally robust presence diminished. The large bed made him look small and insignificant. This man, who had been her whole world for most of her life, reduced to nothing in a sickbed.

“I’ll have a light meal sent up. You must eat something.” Daphne left.

Sophia hadn’t realized Daphne was still in the room. Her stomach knotted at the idea of food. When she entered the room the scared little girl of years past pushed past the adult. When she was young, Anthony went away to school and she was often by herself. She was lonely then and she felt the same sense of desertion sitting in the darkened sick room. She reached beneath the blanket and took his hand. “So cold.” She tried to rub the warmth back into him.

“Papa, please wake up now.” Holding his hand in both of hers, she leaned her forehead on top of their clasped fingers and prayed. She was still in that position when a maid delivered a tray of food. And hours later when Angelica returned to the room in a fresh dress and looking a bit more rested. Sophia still held papa’s hand and prayed while the food had gone untouched.