The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

"I'm still worried, Ryder. Cole is determined. He's a dangerous man, despite your contempt of him. We've just bought a little time, that's all. He wants her badly."

"She scorned him, you know. Struck him when he tried to kiss her."

"He isn't the kind of man to ever forget something like that." Samuel shook his head. "Something must be done and soon. Ah, that poor child."

"You mean Jeremy? I agree but he is young and adaptable. He will be just fine."

"No! I meant Sophia."

"Oh, her. I trust she's kept to her bed?"

"Yes."

Ryder said nothing more, merely walked back into the house and headed up the stairs.

When next he visited her, it was late afternoon. Sophie was wearing one of her nightgowns. She looked fresh and clean and very young. Her face was only faintly bruised now and she looked very bored. She frowned at him and said, "It is difficult to bathe and not get your feet wet."

"It's a sight I should have enjoyed witnessing. Perhaps you could bathe again this evening for my entertainment? I suppose that vicious snarl means I am to be denied. Well, it doesn't matter. I have come to talk to you."

"Talk, then."

"Feeling restive, are we?"

"I want to go home. I heard that one of your bookkeepers is overseeing things at home. That isn't right, Ryder. I should be there. Our people are perfectly capable of dealing with the problems themselves. I really must go home."

"Well, you can't just yet, so be quiet. As for Clayton, Emile says he's a diplomat so you needn't worry about lacerated sensibilities. Cole was here again after your lovely hide, but I told him that your uncle was just buried and it turns out he was stabbed, not shot."

She stared at him. "You're jesting."

"Who knows? It got Cole out of here. But I will tell you true. I think Thomas really did kill him and that he was the one you shot. Of course, that means it wasn't a mortal wound for he later spoke to Cole, giving his spurious evidence. But he's gone to ground now. I want to find him and toss him into the mangrove swamp. Yes, that's what I'll do."

"He won't return to Camille Hall. I really do want to go home, Ryder. There is so much to be done. There is no reason for Jeremy and me to remain here any longer. My ribs are much better now and my feet—well, I won't walk much, all right?"

"And just what would you do if Mr. Sherman Cole arrived with his men to remove you to Montego Bay?"

She paled. He remained unmoved.

"Actually," he said, looking beyond her right shoulder, "I've decided that we're all going back to England."

"You're mad!"

"Quite possibly. Jeremy needs schooling. He will go to Eton."

It was a dream come true, only Sophie didn't want it to come true this way, no, not through him. "No," she said. "I won't allow it."

"You have no choice at all," he said and smiled at her.

"I do have a choice. I won't be your mistress, Ryder, I won't."

"I don't recall having asked you. At least not in the past three days."

"I heard you! I heard what you said to Mr. Cole!"

"In that case, you must know that my ardor for your lovely self is quite in doubt now. After having examined you quite thoroughly I'm not sure at all that I am interested anymore. You are adequate for your environs, perhaps, but back in England? I don't know about that."

She picked up a heavy book of Shakespeare plays and flung it at him with all her might. He caught it square in his chest and grunted. Actually, she felt more pain in throwing the heavy tome at him than he felt at the blow. She paid it no mind. She threw a pitcher of water at him, a much easier shot, soaking the front of him.

There was nothing else to throw. She lay back against the pillows, panting and heaving, her fore­head damp with perspiration. He hadn't moved, even to wipe the water from his face. "That's the second time you've attacked me," he said mildly. "What do you think I should do about it?"