Two Sinful Secrets (36 page)

He could only hope that somehow she heard him.

S
ophia hurried down the street, not looking to either side of her, not paying attention
to any of the noise and jostle. It was almost as if London, the real, working life
of the city, no longer existed. She could only think of one thing.

Finding Lord Hammond.

She wasn’t sure what she would do when she found him. She only knew she had to put
a stop to his threats, to the danger he posed to Dominic and his family.

She had never felt so deeply, achingly angry before in her life. Yet she also felt
freezing cold, frighteningly calm, and rational. How dare this man, a man she barely
knew, think he had any right to her? That he owned her just because he wanted her,
that he could ruin her life because she didn’t want him in return?

She wasn’t going to take it any longer. Now she had more than herself to protect.
She had Dominic, her husband.

The husband she loved. She wasn’t going to let her own problems ruin his life. She
could never live with that if he suffered from being allied with her. So she would
take care of this now. However she had to. She had left
Dominic a note explaining what she was doing, a note he would find only after he got
back from the theater and this was all long over. It was the least she could do for
him now.

Sophia turned a corner and found herself facing the hotel where Lord Hammond said
he was staying. She tugged her hooded cloak closer around her and stared up at the
grand building. It looked quiet and genteel, with its heavily-draped windows and liveried
doormen. Not a place for dramatic confrontations. But she had no choice.

She drew a deep breath and pasted on the haughtiest smile she had learned from her
mother. If she looked as if she belonged there, no one would stop her. She swept past
the doorman and into the marble-and-velvet hush of the foyer.

She pulled his card out of her reticule and checked the room—414. As she tucked it
back amid the satin folds, she felt the reassuring weight of her small pistol at the
bottom. It looked deceptively dainty, all ivory scrolls and curves inlaid in the smooth
wood, but she knew it could get the job done if needed.

As she climbed the carpeted staircase, cold distance heightened her perceptions. The
dark, rich colors of the hotel seemed to sharpen. She could smell the heavy earthiness
of the lilies in the tall Chinese vases blended with the scent of beeswax polish and
expensive perfumes. And suddenly she felt strong and resolute. This was ending now.
Dominic would be free.

On the fourth floor, the stairs opened onto a grand landing, an octagonal space carpeted
in plush red and blue and hung with lavish tapestries that muffled the loud laughter
of the well-dressed crowd gathered there. A table
was laid out with champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and a footman passed out glasses to
the people lounging on the satin sofas and along the gilded railings that looked down
to the lobby so far below.

And in their midst was Lord Hammond. He sat on a settee beside one of the expensive
courtesans he had been with at the Devil’s Fancy. She leaned against his arm, laughing
tipsily, while Lord Hammond watched the gathering with a small smile.

Sophia hadn’t expected a party, but she had as good a sense of drama as anyone. Perhaps
it would be better to have witnesses. Then Dominic could be done with an obviously
mad wife.

Sophia swept back the hood of her cloak and stepped forward with a smile.

Sophia was gone.

Dominic stared down at the scrawled note in his hand, still not quite believing what
he had read. He had hurried back from rehearsal, eager to take her to dinner and start
to rebuild something between them. Tell her what he was feeling. But she had gone
to find Lord Hammond, had vowed that he and his family would be safe now because she
was going to make it so.

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but he remembered her pale, strained face from
last night. He only knew he had to find her now, before it was too late.

M
y dear Mrs. St. Claire! I am so happy you could join my little party today. I’ve been
looking forward to seeing you again.” Lord Hammond rose from his settee and came toward
Sophia with a smile. He ignored the pouts of the woman he left behind, and the curious
stares everyone else turned toward her. He only watched her.

He took her arm and bent his head to brush his cool lips over her cheek. Sophia felt
a shudder move up her spine, but she forced herself to remain still. This was for
all the mistakes she had made in her life; she had to make them right now.

“I knew you would come to me eventually,” he said.

“Yes,” Sophia murmured. “I see where my advantages in life lie now.”

“You are a very smart girl, Sophia. It’s just too bad we’ve wasted so much time.”

Sophia smiled up at him. “Shall we make up for it now?”

“Of course.” Lord Hammond took her arm and turned her toward the corridor that led
away from the party. “We should go someplace quieter to talk.”

Sophia glanced over at the gathering. They had all gone back to their conversations,
but she could see their sidelong looks at her and Lord Hammond. “I don’t want to keep
you from your guests. I had no idea you were entertaining today or I would have waited
to come here.”

“You are the most important guest of all, my dear,” he said, running his fingers lightly
over the back of her hand. “And soon everyone will know that.”

Sophia looked down at the floor in what she hoped seemed a demure, shy fashion. In
reality, she was trying to gauge how long it would take to open her reticule. “I—I’m
still a married woman, Lord Hammond. Even if it was a mistake.”

“A mistake that will soon be rectified.” He leaned close to whisper in her ear, his
breath warm on her skin. “I can give you so much more than a man like St. Claire could.
And now that you have seen that and come to me, the Devil’s Fancy can remain open
and he and his family can go about their disreputable business without you. My friends
will be pleased not to lose one of their favorite places to gamble.”

“I hope so,” Sophia said. “He can’t give me the place in Society I need, but I wouldn’t
want to lose such an amusing establishment.”

“Whatever you want, my dear, it’s yours.” He turned down the corridor and led her
toward the looming doorway of room 414. “Now, let me get you a glass of champagne
and we will have a nice, quiet talk about the future.”

Sophia clutched her reticule tighter in her hand and followed him. Her heart was pounding,
and her whole body felt as cold as ice. But her mind was strangely sharp and clear.

“Perhaps you would like to go abroad again?” he said as he pushed open the door and
ushered her inside with a possessive hand on her back. “You seemed in your element
in Baden-Baden and Paris. London is entirely unworthy of you.”

Sophia looked around her. To her relief, they were in a sitting room and not a bedchamber,
a small, opulent space that echoed the luxury of the hotel’s foyer. The air felt heavy
and hot, oppressively scented with large arrangements of full-blown roses.

“Perhaps,” she said, watching him as he crossed the room to a table laid out with
an array of wine bottles. Now that he had her, Sophia was sure he wouldn’t stay interested
long enough to take her abroad. She had met men like him many times. He would be on
to the next challenge, leaving her life, and those of her husband and his family,
in ruins. Another Huntington destroying a St. Claire.

Hammond poured out two glasses of champagne. She opened her reticule and drew out
the pistol. When he turned back around, she held it leveled on him.

And his smile grew even more delighted. “Now, my dear, you had just come to your senses.
Don’t ruin it now with sad melodrama. As amusing as it all is.”

Sophia shook her head. “Yes, I did come to my senses. I love my husband, and I won’t
let anyone hurt him.” Including herself.

“I mean him absolutely no harm,” Hammond said. He slowly put the glasses down on the
table. “I have nothing against him, except that you were momentarily foolish enough
to marry him. But that is over now that you have come to me.”

“I haven’t come to you,” she said, still feeling that strange, cold curtain of calm
that held her apart from the whole terrible scene. “I know men like you. I have been
subject to them my whole life. You want to own people, control them. I won’t be controlled
any longer.”

That infuriating smile of his flickered a bit, and she saw a shadow of doubt in his
eyes.

“Perhaps you see now that you are dealing with a madwoman,” she said.

Suddenly he lunged toward her. His fist closed on the edge of her cloak. She kicked
out at him and raised her pistol. In the sudden, panicked violence of the moment,
she had no time to aim. She fired blindly.

She heard Hammond’s shouted curse, and the shattering of glass. He grabbed her hard
around the waist and shoved her to the floor. The gun was knocked out of her hand
and went skittering across the floor. She tried to scramble after it, but Hammond
slammed her back down. Her head hit the floor, and for an instant, the room whirled
around her in a painful, nauseous haze.

“You insane bitch,” he said hoarsely, and she felt him ripping open her cloak, tearing
at her bodice. “I offer you everything, and this is what you do? Try to kill me?”

Sophia opened her mouth to scream, and his hand came down to smother the noise. She
couldn’t breathe. She tried to free her hand and hit him, to kick out at him from
the imprisoning tangle of her skirts, but she was trapped beneath him.

The room was turning dark at the edges. Just as she was sure she would faint, she
heard the crash of the door flying open. One of Hammond’s hands fell away from her
as she sat up, and she rolled onto her side beneath him.

It was Dominic at the door, Dominic with his eyes blazing with a raw, primitive fury.

“Get off her, you filthy piece of shit,” he roared, and he threw himself forward to
toss Hammond off her.

Sophia barely managed to pull herself out of the way before Dominic landed a blow
to Hammond’s face and sent him reeling back. Dominic followed in relentless pursuit.

Sophia climbed to her feet and scooped her lost pistol off the floor. She stayed close
to the wall, out of their way, and tried to get a straight shot at Hammond. But it
was impossible. They were flying around the room in a blur of fists, a mist of sweat
and blood.

She remembered the night in Paris when Dominic was dumped on her doorstep, covered
in cuts and bruises. She had known even then that all the wounds were not from his
street attackers, that he was a dangerous man. She could see that now in the methodical,
precise way he went after Hammond, landing blow after blow for the maximum effect.
Despite the fury on his face, he never fought wild.

Hammond was no match for Dominic. He obviously had never been forced to resort to
physically going after what he wanted. Not when blackmail and powerful relatives did
the trick. But he was no weakling either. A right uppercut sent Dominic reeling back,
and Sophia screamed. But he leaped back up, as lithe and powerful as before.

Suddenly, Hammond swung around and grabbed Sophia by the arm in a bruising, iron grip.
She screamed as he pulled her closer, and one hand came up in a choking hold around
her neck. The room started to swim around her again as her air was cut off.

“Let her go,” Dominic demanded. “This fight is between you and me now, not her.”

“On the contrary,” Hammond panted. “I only wanted her. You were the one who got in
the way. If you leave now, leave her with me, I’ll keep my bargain with her, even
though she tried to cheat me.”

“I will never leave her,” Dominic said, horribly calm.

“Then you can die with her. It makes no difference to me. In fact, I rather like this
ending—the cheap player and the cheating harlot, done in by getting above themselves.”

Hammond’s hand tightened around Sophia’s throat, and she felt herself falling down
into blackness. As if from under a roaring ocean wave, she heard Dominic shout her
name.

Dominic.
No, no, she couldn’t leave him. He had come after her; she loved him. She reached
deep down inside herself for one last burst of energy and managed to throw the gun
she still clutched in her hand toward him.

As she started to sink to the floor, she heard a woman scream. Hammond, who still
held on to her, suddenly dropped her as if he was startled by the sound. There was
a loud explosion, a strong whiff of gunpowder, more hysterical screams.

Then everything just seemed to—stop. Sophia could feel the roughness of the carpet
under her cheek, but her whole body felt numb. It was almost as if she floated outside
herself, in a nightmare.

“Sophia!” Dominic’s voice broke through that haze. He sounded frantic, frightened.
But how could that be? Dominic was always cool, remote, even in the midst of passionate
moments and fights, always hiding his
emotions behind his handsome face. “Sophia, talk to me. Look at me. Curse at me, anything,
just be alive!”

Sophia summoned up all her resolve and rolled onto her back. She opened her eyes and
saw her husband’s green eyes above her. A cut across his cheek oozed blood.

“I—I am alive,” she whispered. She tried to reach up to touch him, but her arm felt
too weak to lift.

“Thank God. You beautiful, wonderful, foolish woman. What would I do without you?”
Dominic’s arms came around her, and he lifted her up as he stood.

Sophia saw Lord Hammond’s body on the carpet, face-down in a slowly spreading pool
of blood. The woman whose screams had distracted him stood in the doorway, her face
buried in her hands as two men held her up. A gawking crowd was gathering behind them,
and a man who said he was the owner of the hotel was shouting for order.