The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

recognize that he'd failed. You never for a moment believed there was anything supernatural about; the incidents, did you?"

"Of course not," Ryder said, his voice clearly abstracted.

"Nor did you ever want to become my lover."

"No. Yes. I don't know. I don't share."

"What are you going to do?"

"Oliver Susson agreed not to say anything to my brother or to me until your uncle decided it was the right time?"

She nodded.

"Did Jeremy know any of this?"

"No, I tried to protect him as best I could. Also, Uncle Theo was always very careful to treat him well, both in private and in public. Even now, everyone believes both Jeremy and I are very lucky. Indeed I imagine the gossip is that Uncle Theo is too loving, too sentimental, to even realize that his niece is a whore."

"Yes, that's what I've heard. You're tired. It's time for you to rest and for me to do some thinking. I want this mess resolved and soon."

She didn't sleep for the simple reason that she was too frightened about the future. But she did lie on that damned bed for three hours, her mind squirreling about frantically.

CHAPTER

8

SOPHIE WALKED QUIETLY down the upstairs cor­ridor of Kimberly Hall to the bedchamber where Jeremy was sleeping. She wanted to speak to her brother, to reassure him, to make him promises that she prayed she'd be able to keep.

She quietly opened the door and peered in. The room was small, but as in all the other chambers, there were floor-to-ceiling louvered doors that gave onto a balcony and those doors were wide open. She smiled. Jeremy many times slept on his balcony at Camille Hall. He was probably doing the same here. The mosquitoes never bothered him.

He wasn't in his bed. She still smiled even as she walked slowly to the balcony. He wasn't there either. Her smile froze.

Oh God.

She'd seen him today, briefly, and he'd been very quiet, too quiet. He'd looked at her for a very long time and she'd known he was troubled, but she hadn't said anything to him because Ryder had come in. And that was why she'd wanted to see him now.

But he was gone.

Of course she knew where he was. He'd gone back to Camille Hall to face down Uncle Theo for beat­ing her.

Uncle Theo would hurt him badly, perhaps even kill him, for now there was no reason for him to pretend to kindness, to affection, for either of them. She realized she was breathing in huge gulps that made her ribs throb and ache. She leaned forward, hugging her arms around her.

When the pain drew back, she still didn't move, just stood there, very still, staring out onto the beau­tiful scene before her, but not really seeing the glis­tening waves beneath the near full moon. The stars were points of cold white in the sky, a sky empty of shifting clouds. Slowly, she turned and went back to her own bedchamber. She found her gown in the bottom of the armoire. It was ripped and soiled but she didn't care. She dressed quickly, ignoring the pulling and aching in her ribs, her mind set on what she had to do. She merely shook her head when she realized she had no petticoats, no chemise, no stockings, nothing but the gown.

Nor could she find her shoes. No matter, she'd go barefoot. She crept down the front stairs as quietly and stealthily as a thief, and into the small estate room that was also the Kimberly Hall library. There was a gun case there, thank God, a tall oak affair with glass doors. It wasn't locked. She knew guns and thus picked out a small derringer. If she had to protect Jeremy, she would shoot whoever it was at very close range. She had no intention of missing.

She slipped out of Kimberly Hall five minutes lat­er, walking quickly down the graveled drive, ignor­ing the small rocks digging into the soles of her feet, welcoming the evening breeze that stirred tendrils of hair on her forehead.

It was a beautiful night, a still night. Her heart pounded in slow, steady strokes. If only she knew how long Jeremy had been gone. She was afraid, but she was calm. It was about time she took over responsibility for herself and for Jeremy. Dear God, please give her enough time to prove herself.

It took her twenty minutes to walk to Camille Hall, cutting through canefields, keeping in the shadows as much as possible. She cut her feet but ignored the jabs of pain, even ignored the blood when she felt it sticky and cold on the soles of her feet.

There was light coming from several windows, but she couldn't see anything, no shadows, no sign of her uncle or of Thomas or any of the servants. Where the devil was Jeremy?

She ran bent over from bush to bush, getting clos­er and closer to the great house. She slithered up onto the side veranda to where her uncle's study was located. It was then she heard the voices.

It was Uncle Theo, and he sounded amused. He also sounded quite drunk. "So, you little bastard, you decided to come back here and whip me, eh?"

"Yes. I'm not a bastard. My mother was your sister and she was my father's wife. I'm here because of what you did to Sophie. I can't allow you to hurt my sister and get away with it. You beat her!"