Stephan could be cruel but, if true, his actions bordered on lunacy. Reign would retaliate, and the hostility between the Rainecourt and Ravenshaw families would only escalate.
“Pray tell, Mr. Enright, of what rumors do you speak?”
The gentleman’s nose twitched as his lips thinned with disdain. “Is it true that four days ago, you and Lord Rainecourt were married by special license?”
Relief coursed through Sophia’s body. Her hand tightened on the handle of her walking stick as she offered Mr. Enright an apologetic smile. “Yes, it is true.”
“I was afraid of this.”
Before Sophia could respond, Mr. Enright took her by the arm in an attempt to distance them from the other guests in the drawing room. “Mr. Enright, what are—”
Mr. Enright cast a wary glance at the other guests. No one seemed to be paying attention to them. “I realize that I ceded all rights to speak as your friend when I abandoned you to Rainecourt’s tender mercies the night of the Harpers’ ball. Even knowing the truth of what that man was capable of, I would have never guessed that he would have beguiled and bound another innocent to him.”
“Mr. Enright, you do not understand. Lord Rainecourt was attempting to—” Reluctant to mention her awkward predicament with Lord Mackney, Sophia did the sensible thing and closed her mouth.
“Attempting to do what? Marry you?” Her companion sniffed. “Rainecourt apparently succeeded. What amazes me is that Lord Ravenshaw permitted such an alliance, considering the dark history of your families.”
“And what exactly do you know of my family, Mr. Enright?”
The gentleman seemed to sense that he had made a grave error in mentioning her dead parents. “Not much,” he conceded. “I only know that your parents were once dear friends of Lord Rainecourt.”
“Reign’s father,” she reminded him.
“Yes. The father,” he said, his expression taking on an intensity that burned through the murky shadows of her vision. “Then you know that their friendship with Rainecourt cost your parents their lives.”
Sophia was in no mood to be lectured. “I know my family history, Mr. Enright.”
“Perhaps you should pay attention to your husband’s family history, Lady Rainecourt. The son is more like his sire than most people know.”
“I have heard enough.”
“He killed her, you know.”
Sophia froze at the solemn admission. She did not pretend to misunderstand. “You speak of Reign’s first countess. Beatrice. I heard that her death was an accident.”
A soft despairing sound came from Mr. Enright. “Is that what Rainecourt told you?”
Sophia was not going to discuss Reign’s private business with a gentleman whom her husband clearly disliked. “I have no interest in discussing this further.”
She tried to pull away.
“You must listen to me,” he said, his voice laced with desperation. “Your husband murdered his first wife.”
“Rubbish.”
“The Rainecourt name spared your husband from the gallows,” Mr. Enright said, his words rushing together as fear drove him to make his case. “Everyone knows that Beatrice was unhappy with her marriage. She would have returned to her family if Rainecourt had not murdered her.”
“Please stop saying that my husband murdered his wife,” Sophia said crossly. “No wonder Reign loathes you. I would be annoyed with you, too, if you were spreading lies about me.”
“Forgive me, my lady,” Mr. Enright said, bowing his head. “I did not mean to upset you. You are just so much like her.”
“Her?”
“Beatrice. So beautiful, so full of life and laughter . . . the Rainecourt men are drawn to beauty, but they are careless with their possessions.”
“I am not Rainecourt’s possession.”
Mr. Enright gave her a pitying glance. “Defy Rainecourt and you will learn that I speak the truth about your husband.”
“Exactly what truth are you discussing with my wife, Enright?”
Reign did not trust himself to speak to Sophia as they sat across from each other in the compartment of the coach on the journey to the town house. If it had not been for his friend Dare, Reign might not have known that Enright had brazenly cornered Sophia in the drawing room.
How dare he? Reign thought with a silent outburst of raw fury.
He should have called Enright out for approaching Sophia. The man deserved a bullet for touching her and filling her head with lies.
Reign regretted that he had not dealt with Enright years ago.
He wanted to confront the man this evening.
Instead he had calmly escorted Sophia away from Enright after she had asked Reign to take her home.
“I think you should know that I do not believe him.”
Reign’s gaze rose from his clenched fist to his wife’s pale face.
“What did he tell you?”
Sophia seemed to hesitate as if she had reconsidered the wisdom of repeating her conversation with Enright. “He had heard of our marriage, and was concerned.”
Was he, indeed?
Reign brooded, as he could well imagine what Enright had told Sophia. “I suppose he mentioned Beatrice.”
“Yes.”
The single word told Reign everything he needed to know. “And you did not believe him.”
It was not a question.
Sophia sighed. “I have heard the rumors about your first wife, Reign. And no, I do not believe that you murdered her. If you had arrived earlier, you would have overhead me defending you to Mr. Enright.”
Reign glowered at her. “I do not need your defense, madam.”
“Well, you have it just the same, Reign,” she snapped back at him.
Sophia gasped as Reign lunged for her and pulled her into his lap. Her walking stick fell to the floor and rolled out of reach.
Nose-to-nose, the knot in Reign’s gut eased as he noted annoyance rather than fear in his wife’s eyes. “Did you already forget my name, wife?”
Sophia raised her eyes upward as if asking for divine intervention. “No, Gabriel, I have not. Are all husbands so irksome?”
“Is that what I am?” he asked, liking the way her body molded against his. “Irksome?”
“Among other things,” she said, feeling clearly provoked by his amusement.
Reign let his fingers dance down the side of Sophia’s face. He sobered as his thoughts shifted to Enright. “Stay away from Enright, Sophia. Like the Burrards, he believes that I got away with murder, and nothing will dissuade him.”
Sophia’s gaze clouded with concern. “Why is he so convinced that you murdered your first wife?”
Reign glanced away. “Enright knows that Beatrice did not love me.”
“But how—?”
He silenced her question with a kiss. When he pulled away, he said, “Enough talk about Enright. I will deal with him if he tries to interfere again.”
Reign deliberately slid his hand over Sophia’s left breast to distract her. “Have you ever been ravished in a coach, wife?”
Sophia pursed her lips together. She tilted her head, intrigued by the notion. “No, I do not believe I have.”
Reign spent the next twenty minutes thoroughly and pleasurably dispelling Enright’s mischief from Sophia’s head.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sophia awoke to the sounds of two males arguing. Still half asleep, she wondered what had provoked the fight between Stephan and Henry.
Then she remembered where she was.
She sat up and reached out for Reign. The sheets were cool to the touch. When they had arrived home from the ball, Reign had carried her upstairs to her bedchamber to finish what he had started in the shadowed interior of the coach.
Sophia’s hand idly caressed her right nipple, as she recalled how it had felt to have Reign’s mouth suckling at her breasts. Her toes curled beneath the sheets.
Her husband was an exceedingly skilled lover.
Sophia
glanced down at her bare breasts, irritated that she had been so exhausted by Reign’s lovemaking that she had forgotten to put on her nightgown. He claimed that he preferred her naked, but he was not the one who had to face the servants in the morning.
She slid her hand over the bedding until her fingers brushed against her wrinkled nightgown.
“Damn it, I want to see her!”
Sophia frowned and swiftly pulled the nightgown over her head. Was that Stephan? She had no idea what the hour was, except that it was before dawn. Sophia started to head for the door, and then realized that the male voices that she heard were not coming from downstairs in the front hall. The argument was outside the house.
Wary, Sophia moved slowly toward the open window. She was certain that the window had been shut when she had fallen asleep.
Had Reign opened the window?
Sophia pulled the curtain aside and peered, concentrating on the lamp that seemed to float just above the ground. It was too dark to see much, and her eyesight was barely adequate in daylight.
“Go home, Ravenshaw,” Reign said, sounding bored and unsympathetic. “You can pay your respects to my wife when you have sobered up.”
Sophia’s eyes narrowed at the way Reign emphasized the words my wife. Mr. Enright’s comment that she was Reign’s possession intruded on her thoughts.
“Smug bastard,” Stephan jeered. “How did you learn of Mackney’s offer so quickly?”
“You were not as discreet as you thought,” Reign taunted.
“Neither were you with that business in the Bramsburys’ lower gardens,” Stephan yelled back.
Sophia heard a shuffling noise and a grunt.
Oh, this was frustrating! Sophia wished that she could see Reign and her brother. Were they fighting or just circling around each other like moths around the lamp?
Stephan was breathing heavily. “Perhaps you had been plotting to steal Sophia away. Who helped you? Did you bribe my bloody servants?”
“How Sophia came to be in my custody is irrelevant, Ravenshaw.”
Sophia could hear the pleasure resonating in her husband’s voice. He was savoring his victory.
“What should concern you is that Sophia is now a Rainecourt. She is no longer in a position to help you, and after you locked her up and tried to hand her over to Mackney, there is a good chance that she no longer cares about your fate.”
“Liar,” Stephan spat. “Sophia loves me and Henry. She would never put a Rainecourt above her real family.”
Sophia squinted as she heard more scuffling sounds and Stephan cursed.
“My wife understands where her loyalties lie, Ravenshaw,” Reign said calmly. “If you are short of funds, I would suggest that you spend your days and evening searching for an heiress to wed instead of drinking yourself blind each night, and gambling away what’s left of your fortune.”
“I do not need any lectures from a murderous Rainecourt!” Stephan roared. “I just want to see my sister, you bastard.”
“Why?” Reign sounded genuinely curious. “She cannot save you.”
“Maybe I’ve come to save her from you,” Stephan shouted at Reign, his voice full of importance and belligerence. “Sophia and her stubborn ways can drive a saint to commit violence. Lord knows, I have wanted to throttle her a dozen times. With one wife moldering in the ground, and the tainted blood of your sire flowing in your veins, I suspect that it will be only a matter of time before our sweet, gentle Sophia meets a similar fate.”
Sophia inhaled sharply at the sickening thumps of fists striking flesh.
“Sophia!”
She instinctively took a step away from the window. She had not realized that she had revealed herself to her brother and Reign.
“No, no—wait!” Stephan shouted up at her. “Sophia, I never meant to hurt you. Forget my interest in your dowry; Mackney would have been a good husband to you. I just went about it wrong that night because I was drunk—”
“You are drunk, Ravenshaw,” Reign drawled. “What’s next? Groveling?”
“I am not groveling, damn it!” Stephan lashed out at Reign. “This is between me and my sister.” He moved toward the window. “Sophia, come home. The marriage was probably not even valid.”
Her husband chuckled. “Oh, the marriage was very real. As was the wedding night.”
Sophia brought her hand up to her face and despaired. Reign was not helping the situation by provoking her brother into a mindless rage.
“Damn you, Sophia!” His next words were almost inaudible. “You did not have to whore yourself to this murderous devil. Mackney was honorable . . . I swear it!”
Stephan believed she had betrayed her family’s honor. Did Henry feel the same way?
With her brother’s words ringing in her ears, Sophia staggered away from the window, returning to the bed. She crawled to the center, and then pulled the bedding up until she was fully covered.
Minutes later, Reign entered the room.
Sophia stared blankly at the wall, waiting for her husband to get into bed. Reign remained near the door.
“Do you regret marrying me?”
His question surprised Sophia. “No,” she said huskily. Stephan did not consider her marriage to Reign as valid. It stung to know that if she had been foolish enough to go with her brother, Stephan would have ignored her protests and tried to marry her off to Mackney.
“Good.” He did not venture closer. “Tomorrow we will leave for Addison Park.”
Sophia tossed aside the bedding she had used to cocoon herself and sat up. She did not need Reign to explain that he thought she would be safer if they put some distance between her and Stephan. “Do you truly believe this is necessary? I know that Stephan is very angry at both of us. However, my brother would never hurt me.”
“Sophia,” Reign said wearily. “Look in the mirror. Your brother has already hurt you.”
Her nose suddenly burned with the tears she had been fighting. Reign was telling the truth. Sophia nodded. Stephan had betrayed her, and she had not quite recovered from it.
“You always seem to be protecting me.”
Reign gave her a long unreadable look. “In this instance, I am protecting your brother.”
Sophia blinked. “How so?”
“Leaving for Addison Park will stop me from putting a bullet into the damn man.” He ignored Sophia’s startled expression, and elaborated, “Your brother is feeling desperate, and desperate men are unpredictable. If Ravenshaw was foolish enough to kidnap you, I would be obliged to hurt him.” Reign gave her a lopsided grin. “And that would have made you unhappy. Do not look so surprised. Just because your brother has been behaving like a horse’s arse does not mean you have stopped loving him.”
Sophia brought her hand up to her forehead. She had been prepared to despise Stephan, but her feelings for both of her brothers were more complicated than that.
“So we are journeying to your country estate so you will not have to shoot my brother?”
“Exactly.”
Sophia groaned and slid down into the bedding.
Reign walked over and pulled the blankets over her. He kissed her on the temple. “Get some sleep, Sophia. We have a long journey ahead of us.”
She listened to her husband’s footfalls as he walked through the doorway and softly shut the door.
Addison Park.
Sophia had been so distracted by her problems with Stephan that she had not considered that Reign would expect her to reside there. Addison Park was part of her past. It was the source of her nightmares. The last time she had been there, she had almost died. It was where his father had murdered her parents.
And Reign was taking her back there.
Sophia rolled onto her back and waited for the dawn.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Does this week’s menu meet your approval?”
Sophia lowered the piece of paper in her hand, and gave the housekeeper a gentle smile. Two weeks had passed since Reign had whisked her o
ff to Addison Park, and she still felt more like a guest than its mistress. “As usual, you have outdone yourself on the menu, Mrs. Ivey. I would not change a single dish.” Sophia handed the paper to the servant.
Mrs. Ivey accepted the paper with a curt nod. “Very good, milady. I will tell the cook immediately that we have your approval.” The housekeeper curtsied and hurried toward the door. She paused at the threshold. “Before I go about my other duties, would you care for some tea? It will put a spot of color on your face, if you do not mind me saying so.”
“It is kind of you to offer, Mrs. Ivey. Perhaps I will ring for some tea after I have taken a stroll in the gardens.”
The housekeeper’s forehead furrowed at her mistress’s announcement. Reign had departed at dawn to attend to some business with several of his tenants. He must have ordered Mrs. Ivey to look after his new countess. The housekeeper’s hesitation was slight but noticeable. She clearly was not pleased that Sophia was planning to leave the house. “Very well, milady. Shall I fetch one of the lads to walk with you?”
“That will not be necessary,” Sophia said, retrieving her bonnet and gloves from the table. “I shall not be straying far from the house.”
In the five minutes that it took Sophia to escape the house, the butler, two footmen, and a maid had delayed her with their offers of assistance.
By the time Sophia had reached the white gravel path that outlined the elegant gardens at the back of the house, she had worked herself into a fine temper. She stabbed the sharp end of her walking stick into the ground with brisk enthusiasm as she increased her distance from the house.
The staff was treating her as if she were a sickly child who fainted at her own shadow. The situation was intolerable!
And she only had herself to blame, she thought uncharitably, recalling her initial reaction as she entered the front hall of Addison Park. While Sophia glanced up at the impressive staircase, silently admiring the opulent interior, she had been overwhelmed suddenly by lightheadedness. As the walls began to spin, she saw buried glimpses of the past: Her childish hands gripping the balustrades, shadows of violence from within the drawing room, and an unexpected explosion of white blinding pain.
Till Dawn with the Devil Page 15