Three heads turned to face her, but only two pairs of eyes appeared shocked by her presence.
“Sophie,” James exclaimed, his eyes wide in disbelief. He stood and walked over to her. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his expression a mix of confusion and delight. He picked up a short black ringlet and let it fall through his fingers. “What on earth have you done to your hair?”
Sophie was so relieved to see him she could not speak. He looked healthy and happy and she had never been more pleased to see anyone in her entire life. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, much to the astonishment of the lady sitting on the sofa.
He returned her affection with a warm embrace, but when he kissed her on the cheek, she felt him stiffen. He reached for her hands, as they were still clasped around his neck, and pulled them down before stepping back to examine her. He was silent for a moment as his blue eyes flitted from her lips to her hair, to her wrapper and then back to her lips.
He lifted a ringlet and held it to his nose. “You smell of him,” he said, his words heavy with disdain.
Sophie glanced over her brother’s shoulder towards Dane. He stood there, his body hard and rigid, as though preparing for a sudden impact.
“His smell is all over you, on your skin, in your hair.” James spun around to face Dane. “What the hell have you done to her?”
He did not wait for a reply but charged across the room, muttering something through clenched teeth before his fist landed with the force of a hammer on his friend’s jaw.
“No!” Sophie screamed as she watched Dane stumble back into the chair. James punched him once more and then lifted him up by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him onto the floor.
Dane took another punch to the face and another to the stomach, causing him to draw his legs up to his chest and roll onto his side. Yet still he made no protest.
Why was he not fighting back? Sophie could not understand it. He was more than capable of fending off the attack, even if he did not wish to throw a punch himself.
“Get up,” James spat.
“Stop this,” Sophie cried, dropping to her knees and throwing herself across Dane to prevent her brother from delivering another blow. She had never seen him so enraged.
“Get off him,” James growled as he grabbed Sophie by the arm to pull her away.
Dane raised his head off the ground, his eyes hard and unforgiving. “You may hit me all you want,” he spluttered, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “But you will take your damn hands off her.”
Annabel stepped forward and grabbed her husband’s arm. “What’s the matter with you? You have not even given him a chance to explain. What if you have got this all wrong?”
“Look at them,” he scoffed as he pointed to the floor. “It is obvious for all to see. Why do you think he let me hit him? He knows what he’s done.”
Sophie got to her feet. With her back to her brother, she bent down to help Dane stand. She hadn’t noticed her wrapper had come undone and when she took Dane’s arm and turned to face her brother, he was staring at the crumpled shirt, staring at her bare legs. Following James’ gaze, Dane reached across and drew the wrapper together.
“I am going to bloody well kill you,” James said annunciating every word, his eyes a penetrating ice-cold blue.
Dane stepped in front of Sophie, perhaps to shield her, perhaps by way of accepting the challenge. “My God, you’re a walking monument to hypocrisy and yet you have the audacity to judge me,” Dane retorted. “Tell me, where were you when Dampierre came knocking on your sister’s door. When he threatened her, when she rode to London on that beast of a horse all in the hope of saving you,” he hissed. “I’ll tell you where you were, getting bloody married!”
Sophie gasped. She moved to stand at Dane’s side and stared at her brother. “You’re married?”
James’ face turned ashen as he shuffled uncomfortably, ignoring her question. “Dampierre came to Brampton Hall?”
“You left her. You left her for weeks without so much as a word.” Dane stepped forward and poked his finger in his friend’s chest. “And then you have the gall to come here and wave your fists about.” He looked at James as though he was the worst kind of scoundrel. “You may be the hero of one woman’s story,” he added, sarcasm dripping from every word. “But you failed in your duty to protect the only woman who should have mattered to you.”
James looked taken aback. “Duty,” he faltered. “You dare speak to me of duty.”
“She came to me,” Dane shouted, stabbing a finger at his own chest. “She came to me and I was duty bound to accept.”
James took a step forward, stood toe to toe with his friend, their noses almost touching. “That does not give you the right to —”
“Stop it,” Sophie yelled again, for she could not bear to listen to all this talk of duty and responsibility. Why could Dane not have said that he wanted to help her? That he was driven by some unexplainable desire. She turned to Annabel. “You’re married?”
“Forgive me. I have not had the chance to formally introduce you,” James interceded.
Annabel’s smile lit up her entire face. “We were married yesterday, by special license,” she nodded.
It was a look of genuine happiness and Sophie felt a small stab of jealousy, which she instantly dismissed. In truth, she was delighted for them. Really, to see her brother alive and well and married, words could not describe the joy she felt. “How wonderful,” she said, clasping her hands to her chest.