Harry stood with his fist clenched while Bar lounged against the windowsill. She looked at her guardian. “You hit your brother, didn’t you?”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What if I did?”
“I explicitly told you not—”
He held up his hand cutting her off. “Can we discuss this privately?”
“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth as her arms crossed over her chest. The rest of the occupants shuffled out of the room, leaving them alone. Sophie intentionally kept the door open. Seemed safer.
Once the last person disappeared around the corner, his shoulders sagged. “Bloody hurt like hell,” he mumbled and then tried to sit but winced and returned to standing.
“Then why did you do it?” she asked as she crossed the room to help him. Angry as she was, he needed aid more than reprimands. Bracing her feet, she lowered him down until he partially lay on the settee. “More importantly, what pains you?”
“The skin is mostly healed. It’s the muscles. They tighten up terribly.” He winced, his hand beginning to massage the flesh.
Sophie took a breath. Touching him was a terrible idea, but she hated watching anyone suffer. And so, she sat on the settee, her hip pressing into his thighs as she brushed his hand aside. Then she began to slowly massage the area, working up from his knee. She kept a light steady pressure, not wanting to hurt him.
He let out a loud groan and she pulled her hands away, but he quickly grabbed one of hers. “I beg you, don’t stop.”
Placing her hands back on his muscular thigh, she started again. “What happened with Drew?”
“He was being crude and needed a lesson in manners. And while you did say we shouldn’t fight, you also made me promise I’d keep him in check.”
“Not if you’re going to hurt yourself.” She massaged higher, her own breathing becoming more rapid. Despite his injury, he was still a powerful man and the feel of him made her insides dance and twist.
“He should enlist. He needs the discipline.” Harry grunted as she reached a muscle in which she could feel the tightness. She began working that spot.
“Is that why you want to go back?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.
“Exactly,” he moaned, his eyes closing. “I was trying to tell Drew. Before the army, I was no better than a rake. Drinking and carousing. Now I am a man of substance. I can’t go back to that life, Sophie. I like that I have meaning and substance now. And your brother, he gave his life saving me. I want to honor him too.”
She understood. More than she could ever say, she knew what it was to find a place in this world that made a person feel accomplished and successful. It wasn’t something that she wanted to give up either. “That makes perfect sense to me.” It pained her to say it, but it was true. Slowly, she withdrew her hands. Touching him now was a foolish idea, every time she did, they grew closer and he was leaving.
“It does?” He opened his eyes and looked directly at her.
So handsome. And like her in so many ways. She wanted to reach out and caress his face. It was difficult to admit even to herself, but she wanted him to stay here with her; even more difficult, she knew why he couldn’t. “This house, taking care of Danielle, has given me the same sense of pride.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. He reached down and laced his fingers into hers. “So you know why, once you have that something, you can’t give it up.”
“I do,” she whispered, looking down at their hands. Her insides twisted. Then she removed her hand from his. He needed to leave and she had to protect her heart. Because it was dangerously close to becoming his. “Which is why you’ll have to take me shopping tomorrow and purchase new covers for the chairs. You’ve ruined this one so it will have to be reupholstered and the rest of the furniture needs to match.”
He let out a groan, but a light smile played at his lips. “That is my penance? Shopping?”
“I’m afraid so.” She stood and reached down her hand. “Can you get up?”
He placed his in hers again. It was warm, and strong, and so inviting. Emotion clogged up her throat. She had feelings for this man, which meant nothing at all because she couldn’t act on them if he planned to return to the front.
“I can.” He pulled himself up, and as he stood close, she drew in a deep breath of his maleness. He smelled of smoke, whisky, and that deep male musk that drew her closer.
He stretched his leg. “There is something else I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“What?”
He spoke low, a tightness in his voice. “Alfred. He…he saved me that day. He’d be alive if he hadn’t protected me…” He winced, as though he might be afraid of her reaction.
She nodded and her hand slipped into his. “That sounds like Alfred. Always protecting the people he cared about.”
His face spasmed. “You’re not upset?
“He wouldn’t have had things happen any other way.” She squeezed his hand, wanting him to understand. “Alfred nearly killed himself as a child saving a kitten from a tree when he was eight. He’s glad you’re alive, especially knowing you’ll take care of Dani and me.” Then she removed her hand from his, swallowing down the bit of emotion clogging her throat. “How is your hip?”
“My hip feels much better. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She should have been glad, but she wanted to reach for his hand again. She ached to touch him. Drat. What was he doing to her? And why had she been telling him about Alfred? Now he’d never leave. She needed to get away from Harry as soon as possible. Her attraction threatened to engulf her whole “I know what I just said, and I understand that you took over my guardianship, but honestly, you need not stay. You’ve done your duty just connecting us with Emily.”
His mouth tightened. He should go. Take himself and work in solitude until he was fit to return. But, somehow, he didn’t want to leave now. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “Thank you for that, but I am unfit to return now anyway.”
She shivered and wrapped her arms about her waist. How was she going to protect herself if he remained here?
Chapter Eleven
Harry lay in bed, thinking that he should be asleep. The bed was soft, the pillow softer, and the blankets crisp and fresh. Thanks to Sophie’s massage, his hip ached less than it had in weeks.
But thoughts of her kept him awake. First, he was in her house and she was sleeping just down the hall. That was a distraction in and of itself. But also, she understood him in ways few people seemed to. He knew neither Bar nor Drew did. And yet Sophie could clearly see what he gained from service.
She supported him even. Which was the problem really. It made him want to stay with her or have her come with him.
But he couldn’t stay, not without compromising himself and she couldn’t leave for the same reason. What a damned conundrum.
He stared up at the ceiling until he put an arm over his eyes. He wasn’t likely to find any answers hidden within the plaster, so tossing the covers aside, he rose from the bed and crossed the room. He opened the door, then crept down the hall toward the library. It was open and the fire, along with a few candles, burned inside. His heart began to beat faster. Was Sophie awake too? Contemplating the same dilemmas as him?
After walking into the room, he searched the dim light until he found the single occupant. But it wasn’t a gorgeous, petite brunette. Instead it was a large, hairy one, his brother Bar. “What are you doing in here?” Harry grunted.
Bar looked up. “Getting some work done. What are you doing?”
Harry scrubbed his face. “Contemplating my future.”
Bar sat back in the chair behind the desk and gestured for Harry to take a seat. “Do tell.”
Harry grimaced. He didn’t really want a heart-to-heart with his brother. “It’s late and you seem busy.”
“I am busy. Part of the reason I want to talk with you.” Bar pointed again. “Sit.”
Harry did as his brother asked, mostly out of respec
t. “All right then. What are we discussing in this heart-to-heart?”
“First of all, I want to know the land that is now in your jurisdiction. Where is it located?”
Harry frowned. Now Bar was putting him on. “You know very well it borders yours. Since the title died over two hundred years ago, the Duke of Manchfield has been managing the property.”
Bar nodded. “I do know. And you know that I’ve been managing the weight of the dukedom even though our father is alive and well. He’s basically just retired.” Bar scrubbed his scalp. “It’s a bloody hard job. I’ve got ten thousand people counting on me, at least a thousand of them on your land.”
“My land has that many?” Harry shifted in his seat. “Mostly farmers?”
“Yes, but there was a flood last year. Bloody hard business. If it wasn’t for Emily, I’d drown under the weight.”
“Does she help a great deal?” Harry leaned forward. He knew his brother leaned heavily on his wife. He rubbed the back of his neck. Sophie was the sort a man could lean on too, if need be.
“More than I could say. But what might also help is if someone took over their own land so that I didn’t have to manage it any longer.”
Harry sat back in his seat. A plan began to form. Sophie wanted a child, and she wanted to be in charge. He wished to return to his duties in the army. Perhaps they could help each other. If they married, he could work out his lust, impregnate his bride, and return to the army, giving them both what they wanted. “I’ll think on it, Bar.”
The next morning, after a few hours of sleep, he rose and headed out down to the ocean. Finding a path to reach the beach from the cliffs, he walked along the sand and then stripped off his shoes and socks. The morning was cool yet and the water would be freezing, but one of the doctors had mentioned that swimming would help strengthen his leg. He’d do whatever was necessary to return to the army, this was the least of it. Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped into the water. Besides, the cold would like help with his constant state of arousal.
“For feck’s sake, what are you doing?” Drew called from behind him.
He grimaced, not looking at his brother as annoyance prickled along his skin. “Mind your business.”
“I won’t.” Drew called and then went silent.
Harry turned to see his brother stripping off his clothes. “What are you doing?”
“Going in with you. It’s bloody cold. What if your hip—” Then Drew stopped.
“I’m not an invalid.” Harry grumped. He resented that his brother thought he was. But his shoulders relaxed. “I am simply exercising my hip in a way that takes some of the pressure off. If I don’t do more activity, I won’t heal.”
Drew grimaced as the cold water swirled about his knees. “You must be serious about going back if you’re willing to tolerate this.”
“I am,” he said as he moved into deeper water.
Drew followed, sucking in deep breaths. “I still don’t understand. You can live a disciplined life full of work here. Bar does. He’s the most serious person I know.”
Harry drew in a deep breath as water swirled about his chest. “I should have died that day, Drew.” Then he dunked under, allowing the cold water to clear his head. When he resurfaced, Drew stood in chest-deep water a foot away. “Alfred is the only reason I’m here. He pushed me out of the way. He died defending this country and his last act was saving me.”
Drew’s face pulled tight before he dunked down under too. When he came up, he gasped in a breath. Scrubbing his face, he looked at Harry. “Tell me more.”
Harry shrugged. “There isn’t much to tell. I owe him my life and I intend to repay that debt by first making certain that Sophie’s future is secured and then by beating the piss out of the French.”
Drew gave him a long look and then kicked off the bottom. “Enough talking. You need to swim? I’ll race you to those rocks.”
A race. Sounded good to him.
Chapter Twelve
Sophie stood in the Mayfields’ ballroom watching the crowd of dancers as she tapped her toe. Her aunt had taken her and Danielle to a few local gatherings before her health began to fail. Sophie had nearly forgotten how exciting they were.
Danielle smiled next to her, her shoulders swaying to the music while Bar and Emily stood on one side, Harry and Drew on the other.
Emily came up behind her shoulder. “See over there.” She nodded toward the patio doors. “The tall one with the blond hair. That’s Mr. Mayfield.”
Sophie glanced over. He was handsome enough, tall and thin with his hair trimmed in a fashionable style. His coat was cut to perfection and he stood as though he knew others were looking, his chest slightly puffed out.
One corner of Sophie’s lip turned down. She liked a man with confidence, but this was more of a…strut. He glanced around as if to see who might be watching him. She quickly looked away, not wanting to be counted amongst his admirers.
“What do you think?” Emily whispered close to her ear. “Is he handsome enough?”
“He’s handsome,” she answered, frowning. He let out a loud laugh that boomed over the crowd, drawing several glances his way.
“I’ll see to the introduction.” Emily tapped her fan onto her own palm, her mouth twisting in thought. “It should be easy enough as his family is hosting.” Then she linked her arm with Sophie’s. “To see that this goes well, we should leave Danielle here.”
Her feet stumbled as she looked back at her cousin. She sometimes forgot how beautiful Danielle was. Or that in the husband hunting game, Danielle might distract potential suitors. But that was ridiculous. Any suitor would have to meet her only family and if he was truly interested in Sophie, he wouldn’t be thinking about Danielle, would he?
She glanced to Danielle’s right to see Harry staring back at her. His eyes were dark and dangerous, glittering in the candlelight as he looked at her. Danielle shifted, but Harry paid no mind, his gaze still on Sophie.
She stopped, their eyes meeting. Harry barely noticed Danielle. Then she shook her head a little. She needed to have one thought concerning her future husband that did not involve Harry.
Emily tugged on her arm, drawing her forward again as she waved to Bar to join them. Slowly they made their way around the edge of the dance floor until they’d reached the patio doors where Mr. Mayfield stood.
Speaking loudly, he regaled everyone with a hunting story. Even from her position behind him, Sophie could hear the embellishment in his tale. “The party brought in no less than six foxes in a single hunt.”
Her nose wrinkled as an acrid taste filled her mouth. Not only was the practice barbaric, he had to be lying.
“Mr. Mayfield.” Emily waved and all conversation stopped as Angus and his friends dipped into a deep bow.
“My lady,” he replied. “We’re honored that you decided to attend our party when you go to so few. My lord,” Angus addressed Bar, his chest puffing out even further. “Pleasure.”
Bar tilted his chin to acknowledge the address. “The pleasure is ours. We’ve come to visit a family friend.” Then he gestured toward Sophie. “Miss Chesterfield.”
Angus swung his gaze toward her, his eyes traveling up and down her several times. Somehow, she could feel his look, like an actual touch, and she had to force herself to not shrink away. “Mr. Mayfield, thank you for your hospitality. It is much appreciated.”
He gave her a lecherous smile. “The pleasure is all mine.” Stepping closer, he reached out his hand. “Miss Chesterfield, as your host, I must have the pleasure of a dance. Are you available for the next set?”
She gave a stiff nod and tentatively placed her hand in his. Angus was not her sort at all. He struck her as a man who thought of himself as a strong leader when he was anything but. The most dangerous sort.
But there was no backing out of the dance now.
Finding a spot on the floor, he took her into his arms, pulling her far closer than was necessary. “I have to confess, I was hoping
that we’d meet.”
“Really?” she asked. “Why?”
They began the steps as Angus jerked her about the floor. Her neck ached and she straightened trying to alleviate the discomfort.
“Such a shame, a woman like yourself being left without a protector. You need a man to care for you.” He drew her closer still.
Her nose wrinkled as she turned her face away. This man did not want to protect her. The thought was almost laughable. “I’m doing all right for myself, though I appreciate your concern.”
His fingers splayed out wider on her back. “If you’re not careful, some man could take advantage of the fact that you’ve no guardian.”
His breath was moist and sticky against her cheek. Was he trying to advocate himself for the role of future protector or making lewd suggestions about how he might behave if given the chance? She didn’t want to find out. Her skin crawled with discomfort.
“Oh, but I have a guardian. The Earl of Ridgely. My brother saw to it before his death.” Sophie leaned further away, desperate for distance. “And, of course, his brothers are also here to help. But you know that since you’ve met the Marquess of Devon.”
Angus paled and his eyes shifted to Harry and his brothers. Sophie narrowed her gaze. He looked guilty. He’d hoped to take advantage of her, she’d wager money on it.
“I-I’m glad to hear it.” He eased away from her a bit, adding more space between them. “I knew your brother when we were younger. Always liked him. Glad to know he’s seen to your care.”
She pressed her lips together. It didn’t matter what Mayfield’s motives toward her were. She knew with absolute certainty she wasn’t interested in such an arrogant fool. Looking back, she caught sight of Harry. He followed her with his gaze, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
She let out a little sigh. While she never would have been interested in Mayfield, she doubted she’d be pleased with anyone else here either. Not with Harry’s watchful gaze reminding her of what a man could make a woman feel.
Taming an Unrepentant Earl (Taming the Duke's Heart Book 10) Page 6