by Connie Mason
“Is Viscount Caldwell your guardian?” Reverend Townsend asked.
“No, I am no longer under his guardianship,” Sophia asserted. “I am four and twenty years old. Please continue, Reverend.”
“Very well, then. By the law vested in me by the Church of England, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiled at Chris. “You may kiss your bride.”
Sophia’s breath faltered as Chris turned her toward him, raised her chin with his thumb and forefinger and kissed her full on the mouth. If his kiss was meant as a display of possession, Chris succeeded admirably. She heard someone curse—probably Rayford—and more than a few titters from the congregation. And still Chris continued to kiss her. When he finally released her mouth, her knees wobbled like jelly and she had to hang on to Chris to keep from falling.
With an arm around her waist, he hurried her down the aisle to the front of the church amid a scattering of applause. They paused briefly to receive congratulations from the congregation, and then Chris handed her into his new carriage.
“Excuse me a moment,” Chris said. “I need to speak to Blaine before we leave.” He conversed briefly with the new captain of the Intrepid, then returned to the carriage. With a signal to Mundo, the carriage jolted forward.
“I’m sorry,” Sophia said. “Ray was the last person I expected to see in Jamaica. Sir Oscar told me he had written to Ray, but I have no idea how he came by the money to travel to Jamaica.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Rigby asked his factor in England to pay Caldwell’s passage. He would do it just to bedevil us. Blaine told me Caldwell arrived aboard the Intrepid.”
Dismayed, Sophia groaned. Why was Chris staring at her? Did he blame her for the interruption of their ceremony? The intensity of Chris’s gaze made her squirm in her seat. What was he thinking?
“Rigby must want you badly,” Chris finally said. “He thinks he owns you.”
Sophia snorted. “It’s rather late for that. I’m a married woman now.”
“Nevertheless, he still wants you.”
“That’s his problem,” Sophia sniffed. She grew serious. “Can he press charges against me in Jamaica?”
“He probably could, but I won’t let it happen. You’re safe now, Sophia. Our marriage is legal; it would serve no purpose to press charges. He has nothing to gain from it.”
“Satisfaction,” Sophia murmured. “He’s a vindictive man; I’m not sure our marriage will prevent him from trying to hurt me. He brought Rayford all this way to stop our marriage. But Ray is the one who owes him, not me. I had nothing to do with that gambling debt.”
“Don’t let it upset you. Lord Chester has a great deal of influence with the governor of Jamaica, and he doesn’t like Rigby. He’ll support any claim you make in your defense, if it comes to that. Personally, I don’t think it will. I don’t make idle threats; I think Rigby knows that by now.”
“Marrying me wasn’t a good idea, Chris. I told you that, but you refused to listen. Why did you insist on marrying me when it isn’t really what you want? I’m trouble—you said it yourself.”
“Let it go, Sophia. We’ve already been over this. Think what would have happened if Caldwell took you back to England after Rigby got his money’s worth out of you.”
Sophia didn’t want to think about Ray and Rigby anymore. She wanted to believe Chris loved her, even if he didn’t. She wanted to believe her marriage was forever, and that Chris felt the same. Sophia knew she was only fooling herself, but the truth hurt too much, so she decided to live her life as if her marriage was based on love. And indeed it did, for she loved Chris dearly.
“We’re here,” Chris said as the carriage stopped in front of Orchid Manor. Chris handed her down, and they stood on the steps to greet their guests. First to arrive were Lord and Lady Chester.
“My dear, what a ghastly scene at the church,” Agatha said. “Forgive me for saying this, but Caldwell cannot be a nice man.”
“I cut my ties with my stepbrother the day I left England. I know exactly the kind of man he is.”
“He forced me to invite him to your reception. Forgive me for not asking you first, but it all happened so fast.”
Sophia gritted her teeth. Would she never be free of Rayford’s machinations?
“I hope you didn’t invite Rigby,” Chris said. “That would be above too much.”
“Indeed not,” Lord Chester replied. “The man is an abomination.”
“We won’t keep you. Guests are waiting to greet you, and I must see that everything is in place for the reception,” Agatha said as she and her husband continued past them into the house.
By ones and twos, people filed past the newlyweds, smiling and offering congratulations. Rayford was last in line, having waited until all the guests had entered the house.
“How dare you interrupt my wedding?” Sophia blasted. “Whatever were you thinking?”
“Sir Oscar paid my passage. Besides, I needed to escape my creditors. Rigby’s offer couldn’t have arrived at a better time.”
“I advise you not to make trouble for my wife,” Chris said with quiet menace. “The Intrepid will return to England soon; I’ll be happy to arrange for your return passage.”
Caldwell sneered. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily, Radcliff. I don’t know how the two of you got back together after all these years, but I certainly intend to benefit from the match.”
“How so?” Chris asked coolly.
“I need blunt.”
“To repay Rigby the gambling debt you owe him, I assume. I understand you sold Sophia’s virginity to Rigby, and that Sophia found a way to thwart your evil plan for her.”
Sophia could tell by the tautness of Chris’s voice that he was very close to tossing Ray out on his ear, and she didn’t blame him.
Caldwell didn’t back down from the accusation. “Sophia was contributing nothing to the support of the family. You’re the one who killed her beau and ruined her chances of marrying well. You owe me, Radcliff. Since I’m in a magnanimous mood, I’m only demanding two thousand pounds for the privilege of marrying my sister.”
“Get out!” Chris hissed from between clenched teeth. “You’ll not get one farthing from me.”
Lord Chester appeared in the doorway. “Are you two coming in? Everyone is waiting for the bride and groom. Are you coming, Lord Caldwell?”
“Unfortunately, Lord Caldwell has just recalled a previous engagement. He will be leaving immediately. Isn’t that right, Lord Caldwell?”
Sophia waited with bated breath. Ray’s face was turning a mottled shade of red. She’d seen that look before and knew he was furious. How furious remained to be seen. She also knew that Ray was a coward. If he intended to thwart Chris, he would do nothing overt, but wait to strike when Chris least expected it.
“I’m leaving,” Caldwell said, “but you haven’t heard the last from me.”
“I’ll count the days until I do,” Chris replied sarcastically as he turned away, took Sophia’s hand and led her inside.
Chris fumed in impotent rage. Though he tried to show a happy face during the wedding luncheon and reception that followed, he seethed inwardly. What galled Chris the most was the fact that Caldwell was demanding money from him. Caldwell was a fool if he thought Chris would give in to his demands.
Though Chris might not love Sophia, she was his wife and under his protection. Caldwell had treated her abominably. She wasn’t a piece of flesh to be bought and sold.
Chris’s gaze wandered over Sophia. She was so beautiful it hurt his eyes to look at her. If he wasn’t careful, he would lose his heart to her all over again.
Was that what this wedding was all about? Chris wondered ruefully. Had he already lost his heart to the woman who’d broken it seven years ago? That thought made him cringe. He didn’t want to fall in love with Sophia again.
“What are you thinking, Chris?” Sophia asked. “You’re so quiet. People will think you are a reluctant groom.”
He shrugged. “Let them think what they want. No one has to know about our past.”
Sophia sighed. “You’re never going to let me forget Desmond, are you?”
His answer was forestalled when Lord Chester offered a toast, followed by another from Dirk Blaine. By the time the toasts had ended, Chris was ready to leave the reception so he could have his wife to himself.
“It’s time to leave,” he whispered into her ear. “Wait for me in the foyer while I find Lord and Lady Chester and thank them.”
A little woozy from rum punch and the heat, Sophia walked to the foyer. But the possibility of catching a cool breeze outside drew her through the door, held open for her by a servant. She breathed deeply of a freshening wind that blew in from the sea.
“Don’t think you can escape me that easily,” a voice growled.
Sophia stared into the gathering darkness, her eyes widening when Rigby stepped out from the shrubbery. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I certainly didn’t come to wish you well. I was a fool to believe Caldwell could stop the wedding. He’s a weakling.”
“I agree, you are a fool. Rayford has no control over me, and neither do you.”
She shook her head to banish her sluggishness. Her scrambled brains and slow reaction showed the effects of drinking too many toasts raised to her and Chris’s happiness.
“What do you want?” she asked. “There’s nothing you can do now to hurt me.”
“I beg to differ. I want revenge. You tied me up and then bashed me on the head after I fell down the stairs. I was bruised for weeks afterward.”
“Apparently, I didn’t put enough muscle into the blow. Did you expect me to let you assault me?”
“I paid for that right. Now I expect to get what I paid for. I’ll forget what you did to me if you accommodate me. Either that or repay my five hundred pounds plus the blunt I shelled out for Caldwell’s passage to Jamaica.”
“Go to hell, Sir Oscar,” Sophia said sweetly. “I’m not responsible for my stepbrother’s debt.” She turned away.
Rigby grabbed her arm. “You’re not getting off that easily. Caldwell’s pockets are empty, but your husband is flush with blunt. I know because I made inquiries.”
“Let me go!”
“Take heed, Sophia. Either get me the blunt or find time for me in your bed,” Rigby snarled as he pulled her against him. “I always did fancy you, you know. Caldwell told me about your past with Radcliff. Your marriage sounds ill-advised. Once Radcliff tires of your body, he’ll toss you out.”
He tried to kiss her; she twisted her head away from his fleshy, wet lips and pushed desperately against his chest. Suddenly Rigby released her and backed away, staring at something behind her. It was Chris, angrier than she had ever seen him. His eyes were narrowed into glittering slits, his fists knotted at his sides.
Snagging Sophia about the waist, Chris pulled her behind him and lunged at Rigby. “You bastard! I warned you once to keep away from Sophia. Do you have a death wish, Rigby?”
Rigby backed away. It was easy to see he was only comfortable bullying women and cowards like Caldwell. “I merely wanted a word with your wife.”
“You weren’t invited to the wedding.”
Chris grasped Rigby’s lapels, pushing him backward until he stumbled down the front steps. Then Chris gave him an extra push that sent him tumbling to the ground, where he sprawled inelegantly on his back. He scrambled to his feet. Chris started down the steps after him. Rigby stood his ground for several seconds before turning and disappearing into the darkness.
Sophia’s knees buckled, but luckily Chris was there to steady her. “What did he want?” Chris asked.
“Money,” Sophia whispered.
Chris’s mouth flattened. “More than that, I’ll wager.”
“Chris, take me home. I told you I’d bring you nothing but trouble. You shouldn’t have married me.”
Without responding, Chris swept her into his arms and carried her to his carriage. The night breeze felt cool against Sophia’s hot skin. Sighing, she leaned back against the squabs, thinking about the spectacle Rayford had made of her wedding. And then Sir Oscar had ruined what was left of the day.
The coach traveled slowly over the rutted roads, giving Sophia too much time to ponder her marriage to Chris. Her husband’s continued silence bothered her. She didn’t know what to make of it.
“It isn’t your fault, Sophia.”
His voice startled her. “What?”
“Nothing that happened today was your fault. I’ll take care of Caldwell and Rigby. They won’t bother you again.”
He sounded cold, detached. Sophia shuddered. Not an auspicious way to begin a honeymoon. She exhaled slowly. Was there going to be a honeymoon? Chris had already had her in his bed, what more could she offer him?
The carriage reached Sunset Hill and stopped before the front entrance. Chris leaped to the ground and handed Sophia down. Chuba opened the door, grinning from ear to ear. Kateena stood behind him, smiling shyly at the newlywed couple. Neither had been allowed to attend the church wedding or the reception despite Chris’s willingness to have them. It just wasn’t done, Lady Chester had insisted.
“Go with Kateena,” Chris said. “I’ll join you later.”
Sophia turned toward the stairs, her heart thudding against her ribcage. She wanted Chris to come to her tonight, but would he? Their marriage had been all but forced upon him, and this wouldn’t be the first time they’d made love. Did he still want her?
Kateena opened the door to Chris’s room and stood back while Sophia entered. Sophia saw at once that her things had been carried into his room and her nightgown laid out on the bed. Had Chris ordered the change, or had the servants taken it upon themselves?
Vases of fresh flowers filled the room; their scent, while strong, was divine. A decanter of wine and a tray of fresh fruit awaited them on the table. The door to the veranda had been thrown open, admitting a humid breeze. The scent of rain lay heavy on the air.
“Congratulations, my lady,” Kateena said. “I hope your marriage brings everything you’ve ever wanted. There’s fresh water in the pitcher; shall I help you bathe?”
Sophia smiled at Kateena, wishing her maid and friend could have attended her wedding. “Just help me undress; I can manage the rest on my own.”
Kateena completed her duties and quietly left the room. Sophia walked naked to the washstand, poured water into the bowl and washed herself from head to toe with soap that smelled like jasmine. Afterward, she walked to the bed and picked up the nightgown, not recognizing the filmy garment as her own. Had Chris purchased it for her?
“Don’t bother putting it on,” Chris said as he closed the door behind him.
Sophia whirled, holding the nightgown in front of her to shield her nakedness. She hadn’t heard Chris enter. “Did you buy this?”
He shook his head. “That’s Lady Chester’s doing. I prefer you naked.”
He moved languidly toward her, removing the nightgown from her nerveless fingers and tossing it on a nearby chair.
“I didn’t know if you’d want to make love to me.”
“We’re married; there’s no reason to deny ourselves. We’ve already proven we’re compatible in bed.”
“I know, but—”
He leaned in close, brushing his lips against her ear. “You know I find you exciting. And I believe you feel the same about me.”
Sophia bristled. “You don’t know how I feel. You have no idea.”
“Do you wish to tell me?”
“No. Not now; maybe never.”
His hand slid up her arm. “It doesn’t matter. We are husband and wife. Marriage is the best solution to your problem.”
Chris could tell he hadn’t said what Sophia wanted to hear, but it was all he was prepared to acknowledge.
Sophia reared away from him. “I never wanted to be an obligation.”
Reaching out, he brought her against him. “It’s d
one, Sophia. Let’s make the best of it. Marriage to me won’t be so bad. It will be what we both make of it.”
Chris almost wished he could give Sophia what she wanted to hear, but he had no romantic prose, no flowery words. Though he had married her against his better judgment, he would protect her and keep her safe; that would have to be enough.
Sophia felt helpless, trapped between pride on the one hand and desperate, secret love on the other. She wanted Chris to love her. Wanted him to make love to her. She swayed against him.
Chris lowered her to the bed and began to undress. Sophia watched him. She had always admired his masculinity; the sight of his naked body thrilled her to the marrow of her bones. He was hard and vital, pulsing with power. She exhaled sharply when he stood naked before her, fascinated by the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, by the bulge of his shoulders where they met his upper arms and the sinuous flatness of his stomach.
Her gaze lowered to his loins, where his engorged shaft thrust upward against his stomach from a forest of dark brown.
“If you keep looking at me like that, this night will end sooner than we’d both like,” he growled hoarsely.
She lowered her gaze. It was difficult not to look at him; he was magnificent.
Chris hunched down beside her, felt the tightening of his loins, the pain of muscles clenching, the pounding of his heart. Sophia excited him as no other woman. Raven-black lashes fell in a soft sweep over her cheeks; her hair spilled like dark silk over the pillow. He was dismayed to find he wanted her so badly after he had spent years trying to forget her.
He leaned over her and kissed her hard, his fingers playing lightly, teasingly over her flawless skin. She moaned and arched up against him.
“Chris . . . please . . .”
“Oh, I have every intention of pleasing you, love. This is going to be a long, pleasurable night for both of us.”
Chris stilled. He couldn’t believe he had called Sophia his love. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sophia didn’t appear to notice his slip. Shifting his body lower, he kissed a path from her mouth to her breasts, lingering over her hard little nipples, suckling and nipping until she was writhing beneath him.