It was so bloody cold. She'd forgotten how very different England was from Jamaica. She helped Jeremy off with his cloak, then removed her own. They stood in front of the fireplace, hands extended to the flames.
"You did that well, Sophie. I was so scared I couldn't think of a word to say."
"They can't shoot us, at least I don't think they can. But what they will do—" She shrugged, saying no more. Her tongue felt as if it had a cramp in it.
The door flew open and in strode a young girl with thick, curly brownish-blond hair and the most beautiful blue eyes Sophie had ever seen. Actually, they were exactly the same color as Ryder's eyes; the girl's hair matched Ryder's as well. She looked exuberant, full of life—just as Ryder did—and she was grinning at them. "Ho! What's this? I saw you climb off that carriage. My, you're wet and doubtless miserable. I myself am so very tired of this blasted rain. Do forgive me, but I'm Sinjun, you know, the earl's sister. Who are you?"
Sophie had to grin back. There wasn't really a choice. This girl was exactly as Ryder had described her. She was tall, lanky, lovely really, and friendly as a puppy.
Sophie stepped toward her. "I am Sophia Stanton-Greville. Well no, that's no longer correct. I am Sophia Sherbrooke. I am Ryder's wife and this is Jeremy, my brother."
Sinjun could only stare at the wet, frowzy girl standing there in front of her in a girlish muslin gown that was too short for her, a gown that Ryder would have found utterly distasteful.
This was excessively odd.
"Oh dear, is it true? It's difficult to believe, you know. Ryder married! Imagine such a thing. It leaves the brain numb. I never thought he would take a wife because he absolutely adores so many ladies and—"
"I believe that is quite enough, Sinjun."
The earl, Sophie thought, and went very still. He didn't look at all like either Ryder or Sinjun. He was massively built, all lean and muscular, very tall, his shoulders broad as the front door, and dark as a Moor, his hair black as midnight, his eyes just as dark. He looked ruthless and mean and severe and she couldn't imagine him doing anything but tossing her and Jeremy out on their wet ears. He was looking at her, taking in every detail. Sophie knew what she and Jeremy looked like. It wasn't promising. Her chin went higher. She remembered Ryder telling her that his brother, the earl, would have demolished her in no time had he been the one to come to Jamaica. He wouldn't have enjoyed playing her games as Ryder had.
Then, quite suddenly, the earl smiled. It changed him utterly. Sophie heard Jeremy release a pent-up breath. "Forgive my sister here for bombarding you the moment you arrived. It wasn't well done of you, brat. Now, I am Douglas Sherbrooke, Ryder's brother. Welcome to Northcliffe Hall."
Sophie gave him a curtsy, saying quietly, "I am Sophia and this is my brother, Jeremy. We left Ryder on Jamaica to conclude business, but he will return here very soon. It is all very complicated." She paused, not another word swirling to the forefront of her brain, thrust her hand into her reticule and retrieved Ryder's letter. She thrust it at the earl.
He smiled at her quizzically as he took the letter, saying, "Please be seated. Sinjun, make yourself useful and have Mrs. Peacham send some tea and some cakes. Our guests look a bit tired."
"Yes, Douglas," Sinjun said, rubbing her hands together. "Wait until Alex hears about this, she's my other sister, you know. I just—"
"Go, brat!"
Sinjun went, but not before she winked at Sophie.
"Forgive my sister's impertinence," Douglas said as he opened the letter, "but no one has ever managed to curb her tongue."
"Her tongue is friendly. I didn't mind."
"Nor did I," said Jeremy.
"Actually, I don't either. Excuse me a moment," the earl said, and lowered his eyes to the letter.
Sophie didn't know what Ryder had written. She had wondered many times during the voyage, one time even going so far as to hold the envelope over a candle hoping to loosen the wax. She'd drawn it back. With her luck, if she did open it, it would show and the earl would believe her a sham. She pictured him pointing a long finger at her as she was dragged out the door. She stood there, stiff and miserable, waiting like a condemned prisoner in the dock. The earl read the letter through very slowly. When he looked at her there was a softening about his mouth. There was also a glittering in his dark eyes. He looked very human now. Sophie noted these changes with relief. She had learned to read men quite well in the past nearly two years.
"Ryder tells about some nasty business that has nearly been concluded satisfactorily."
Sophie hoped she wasn't the major part of the nasty business. "I see," she said, waiting, wary and very still.
"He also writes that I am to call you Sophie. He writes that Sophia sounds like a Russian princess who has ice water in her veins. He says you're warm and sweet."
"He wrote that?"
"My brother always gets to the kernel of the matter, Sophie. He doesn't waste time on trivialities. As for you, Jeremy, Ryder says you are the best of brother-in-laws and I am to immediately put you on a horse."
"Ryder really said that? But it is too bad of him, sir, for I am his only brother-in-law!"
"Yes, that is true as well. He requests that I look after the two of you until he comes home."
Both brother and sister merely stared at the Earl of Northcliffe. Douglas Sherbrooke realized fully that they'd been perfectly terrified of him. When Hollis had told him that his sister-in-law was waiting to see him, he'd laughed and wondered aloud at the gall of some of Ryder's women. "A child is with her, you say? Goodness, a boy about ten years old? It doesn't make sense, Hollis. Ryder isn't old enough to have fathered a boy that age!" But Hollis hadn't laughed with him. He'd looked utterly austere and said as he looked past Douglas's right shoulder, "Do not treat her badly, my lord. You are quite wrong. She is who she claims to be."
It was true they both looked like drowned urchins. It was even truer that Sophie wasn't a remarkable beauty, not like the women Ryder would normally rave about. But there was something lovely in the cast of her features, and he wasn't blind to the pride and stubbornness in her, or the character. His brother had married her. It was difficult to accept even with the evidence standing in front of him. It was difficult to accept even though Hollis had been convinced immediately. The earl shook himself and tried to find something to say. He was rescued by the entrance of Mrs. Peacham herself, the Sherbrooke housekeeper for twenty years.
"Master Ryder's wife, just imagine that! But you're not at all comfortable, are you, in those wet clothes? Oh, but aren't you a sweetling and just look at all that pretty hair! Goodness me, I'm Mrs. Peacham, and I'll take care of you and you'll not have to worry about a thing."
Sophie was overcome. She nodded. "I'm not all that wet now."
"Ah, and here is Hollis. You wish to meet the wife as well, Hollis?"
"Most assuredly, my lord. I am Hollis, ma'am. If you require anything at all, you have but to ask me."
Tea was dispensed. Mrs. Peacham and Hollis took themselves off. Sinjun was joyfully consuming scones and nudging Jeremy in his ribs as she pointed out the tastiest ones to him. He'd already moved closer to her.
Sophie took a bite of lemon cake. It was delicious. She looked nervously at the earl, who was thoughtfully studying her. The room was warm and pleasant. They'd been welcomed. They'd even been fed. Ryder had told his brother to call her Sophie. He'd told his brother to give Jeremy a horse. It was suddenly too much. Then, the earl smiled at her and offered her more tea.
Sophie burst into tears.
"Oh dear!"
"Sinjun," the earl said calmly, "I want you to take Jeremy to the stables and select a suitable mount for him. Go now. If it's still raining, why then, describe the horses to him."
Sinjun grabbed Jeremy's hand and nearly dragged him from the room. She said fiercely, leaning down to his ear, "Don't worry. Douglas will take care of your sister. I imagine she has had a very difficult time. She will be all right, Douglas will se
e to it. He's wonderful, you know."
Douglas waited a moment, then said to Ryder's weeping wife, "You have done very well. I believe I myself would have cracked under the pressure of coming here to a strange house filled with people you don't know, people who could make your life quite unpleasant. But you're here now and the people here accept you and welcome you and everything will be fine."
Sophie hiccuped and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. The earl handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.
He moved back to lean against the very feminine desk, his legs crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Ryder stands the same way," Sophie said. "Only he does it to intimidate me. You look fine doing it."
Douglas smiled. "My brother tries to intimidate you? How peculiar of him. Usually Ryder has but to use his charm to receive any gift he wishes,"
Sophie blew her nose again, then tucked the handkerchief into her sleeve. "That's what he kept telling me."
"Ryder had to remind you of his considerable charm? How very odd of him. Would you like to meet my wife now? By that time Mrs. Peacham will have prepared a room for Jeremy and aired your bedchamber. Later, if you wish, you can tell me more of what occurred on Jamaica. As I told you, Ryder wrote of important things, not the other superfluous things."
Sophie nodded and tried to swipe some of the wrinkles from her gown. She still looked wilted but she was nearly dry now. She caught a look of herself in a mirror in the hallway. She looked a fright. She made a distressed sound, her hand flying to a strand of hair that hung damply down the side of her face.
The earl said easily, "Don't mind that mirror. It lies always. My wife has remarked upon it. Even my wife's sister, Melissande, who is so beautiful it makes your teeth ache just to look at her, avoids that mirror. I regret that my wife can't come here to meet you. We must go to her. Also, you don't have a red nose. She does."
The Countess of Northcliffe was in bed, propped up with pillows. Her nose was indeed red, her eyes watery, and she was sniffling. Her hair was a marvelous shade of red and was braided loosely around a very pretty, pale face.
The introductions were made.
The countess stared at the girl who stood still as a Sherbrooke garden statue.
"As least you're wearing clothes," the countess said.
"I beg your pardon, my dear?"
"Oh, I was just thinking that Sophie is standing as still as our garden statues."
"And the statues, Sophie, are, unfortunately, quite bare of fig leaves and of shirts or trousers. My wife's mind has slipped a notch with this cold. It brought her low two days ago. She dislikes being kept in bed; she desires to be up and about, ordering all of us around mercilessly."
"He adores to tease me. Goodness, you've been crying. What happened? Douglas, weren't you kind to her?"
"No, Alex, I was vicious. I berated her for daring to come here. I told her she could sleep for two nights in the stables but then she would have to leave. However, I did give her my handkerchief."
"Well, it is true that Ryder actually marrying a wife is enough to overset one's thinking."
"He couldn't very well marry a monkey, Alex. I will bring up Jeremy later to see you. Keep your distance, Sophie, I don't wish Ryder to return home only to find his bride in bed with a red nose and a foul disposition."
The earl patted Sophie's arm, gave his wife a mock bow. "If my wife makes you uncomfortable, simply tell her to mind her own business. On the other hand, I have always found her utterly discreet and an excellent confidante. She also has an adequate sense of humor." He touched Sophie's arm once again, then took himself off.
"He is wonderful, is he not?" the countess remarked.
"That's what Sinjun said."
"It's true. Even when he behaves in a manner that provokes one to the point of madness and wanting to cosh him, he is still wonderful. I sound besotted, don't I? Well, I daresay it will go away in twenty or so years."
"I have wanted to cosh Ryder since the first moment I met him."
"Just excellent," said the countess and blew her nose. She then sneezed, lay back against her pillows and moaned. "I am so sorry not to be able to see to your comfort. But Douglas, you know, I'll wager at this very moment, he's ensuring that a maid will be assigned to you and that she will see to your clothes and that one of the footmen will see to your brother—Jeremy? Yes, a very nice name, yours as well. Please, sit down and tell me all about Ryder. That's right. Now you're more comfortable."
"He isn't wonderful!"
Alex merely looked at her new sister-in-law. "I see," she said slowly. "Do tell me more."
Sophie felt an ungrateful fool. She bowed her head and her hands fidgeted with her skirt. "I'm sorry. He is your brother-in-law and you must be fond of him. It's just that he married me only to save me from being hung. He didn't want to. He doesn't even like me. It all came about because he felt sorry for me. I do think he came to believe that I was indeed a virgin, at least before he drugged me and took me to the cottage and . . . and took off my clothes and did other things, except I don't remember because, as I said, he had drugged me."
Alex said not a word. Suddenly she felt miraculously better. She even sat up higher against her pillows. She didn't have to blow her nose. Her brain felt clear as a summer sky. Her silence was not uncomfortable. She smiled at Sophie, and Sophie, without a whimper, gave it up. "It's not that he's unkind or cruel or anything like that. Indeed, he saved me as many times as I saved him, no, more times, to be truthful. It's just that I am afraid of him and I didn't want to marry any man even though he said there was no reason to be embarrassed because he'd already done everything he'd wanted to me. He kept telling me to trust him but how could I given all that had happened?"
"I see," Alex said again. She waited, but Sophie said no more. Well, it didn't matter. This was fascinating and Alex didn't doubt that there would be more confidences very soon. She said quite easily, "This is now your home. I hope you will be happy here. There is only one person who could perhaps be a bit troublesome to your peace of mind and that is your mother-in-law, mine as well, more's the pity. But too much pleasantness would likely prove boring. She keeps me on my toes. She detests me, but I don't pay her much mind. She wanted Douglas to marry my sister, Melissande, but— Ah, but it's as complicated a tale as yours is, I fear. You and I will be able to entertain each other in both the tellings. In any case, I won't be able to protect you for a couple of days. Lady Lydia just might take a liking to you, but I doubt it. Hers is not a particularly amiable disposition. Ah, here's Douglas. Oh, yes, Sophie, you are taller than I, but perhaps my maid can alter several of my gowns to fit you until we can bring a seamstress here."
"Oh no, I couldn't!"
But the countess said in the most imperious voice, "Don't be a ninny. The last thing we need is to have Lady Lydia see you in a gown like the one you're wearing, and she will forever relegate you to the underbelly of females."
Douglas laughed. "She's right, you know. After I have shown you to your bedchamber, you will return here and get yourself properly begowned. I will endeavor to keep my mother occupied until dinner." Even as he said the words, he sounded uncertain. Sophie could only stare at him, this man who looked as if he were master of the world. He walked to the bed, leaned down and kissed his wife's mouth, then said into her ear, "Many seams will need to be taken in, sweetheart. Your miraculous bosom is one of a kind, you know."
Sophie heard him. She stared some more, she couldn't help it. This stern man Ryder said would destroy her before breakfast was teasing his wife about her bosom? Perhaps, just perhaps, she didn't know men as well as she believed she did.
The earl straightened, gently ran his knuckles down his wife's cheek, then said to Sophie, "We will leave her to her misery for a while. You can return to take care of clothing in an hour, all right?"
Sophie nodded. There was nothing else to do.
CHAPTER
13
"WHAT IS
GOING on here, Alexandra? I was told by Jerkins, who was told by Dora, who had overheard Mrs. Peacham talking to Hollis, that Ryder had married. Married! It is absurd. It can't, simply can't be true. It's one of his floozy women trying to pass herself off as a decent person and fool us. She wants money, her sort always does. I even heard there is a child involved. This is outside of too much, I'm here to assist you in removing her, Alexandra. You're sick and thus I am not surprised that the girl has taken you in. Good grief, is this she? She's in your bedchamber? She looks just as I thought she would—a slut, a fright, a sham. Get out, young woman, get out!"
The woman was actually shooing at her with her hands. Sophia stood still as the wing chair in front of the fireplace, staring at the woman, the distinctly unfriendly voice sounding in her ears, loud and imperious. She didn't have time to gather a response; she felt paralyzed.
"Oh dear," Alex said, and she suddenly looked very ill indeed. She even closed her eyes a moment.
Sophie stood in the middle of the room, wearing one of Alex's gowns. The gown came only to her ankles and it was frankly loose on the bosom, for Sophie didn't have Alex's magnificent endowment, as the earl had pointed out. What had the woman meant—one of Ryder's women?
Alex girded her mental loins and scooted higher on her pillows. "Dear Lydia, this is Sophie Sherbrooke, your new daughter-in-law. Sophie, this is Ryder's mother, Lady Lydia Sherbrooke."
"I don't believe it," said the dowager countess, hands on hips, voice flat and hard. "Just look at you! And that rag you have on, girl, it passes all hounds. It's ugly and cheap and you look quite the sham in it. No, you shan't take me in as has this other daughter-in-law of mine who shouldn't be either."
"Actually, ma'am, it's one of my gowns. We're having it altered for Sophie."