Ryder smiled. "Actually, Samuel, it is Sophie's decision and she will say no."
"Why? Because you ruined her and thus she wouldn't want to shame me by accepting me as her husband? Don't look so bloody surprised. I knew very well you wanted her, that you wanted to dominate her, to bring her to her knees, if you will. You made it a test of manhood. Ah, yes, you behaved just like a new hound in the pack. You had to prove your virility and power with this woman, to yourself and to others. It was a competition. You had to show the world that you could have her, and in having her make her say that the others weren't important to her, just you. I'm not blind. Also, I was standing beneath the balcony a short time ago, and I heard what she said and your accusations as well. I heard her telling you that she'd been innocent until you'd taken her to the cottage.
"You have ruined Miss Stanton-Greville and you have made no move to remedy the situation. The only remedy that would occur to you would be to make her your mistress, and she a young lady of excellent birth and breeding. She is also a young lady of principles. Have you even given a thought to the possibility that you could have gotten her with child? Of course you haven't. Well, I care about her and I will marry her and if she is pregnant, then she won't birth a bastard. Damn you, keep that supercilious eyebrow of yours down! Can you swear to me that when you took her at the cottage she wasn't a virgin?"
Ryder said very quietly, "No, I can't swear."
"What you refuse to admit is that you breached her maidenhead, that you took a virgin. She is no harlot, and well you know it. I have told you what I intend. I have given you that much courtesy. At least I'm offering the poor girl a choice, which is more than you've thought to do."
Ryder picked up a small pebble and flung it toward the water. It bounced in the surf. "Just how do you plan to protect her when Sherman Cole comes to arrest her so that he can hang her for murdering her uncle?"
Samuel Grayson looked away from Ryder, out over the sea. "So you believe it better for you to take her away from here along with Jeremy? She would be your mistress, that, or she would be completely alone with no money, no friends, no way to support herself? That is some solution, I warrant!
"God save us all from men who think the world is theirs to command and women there for their selfish pleasures. I have also observed your notion of honor, sir; it burrows deep into your pride, into the years upon years of privilege and wealth you and your family have enjoyed. But the other? The worth of a single girl? Her honor? Her reputation? There is none, there is only your domination of her and her surrender to you, this competition you and all young men revel in. And then you walk away, thinking no more about the girl and what you've done to her. No, it will be done my way. If Sherman Cole arrests Sophie, why then, I don't know. But by God I will think of something. Good day." Samuel strode away from him, striking his riding crop against his thigh in his agitation.
Ryder stared after the man. He felt as if he'd just been verbally thrashed by his father. His father had been better at it as he recalled, but Samuel wasn't bad. He snorted as he watched Samuel mount his horse.
He leaned back against the tree trunk again and closed his eyes. Of course he didn't see the entire world as his to command, just a small bit of it perhaps. So what was wrong with that? He wasn't selfish; he wasn't greedy. He took but he didn't take too much. He didn't hurt people. And he did give, certainly he did. Jane could tell anyone that as well as his sister, Sinjun.
Was he such an unfeeling, selfish bastard? Had his aims been all that ignoble? Was he really the leader of the hounds? No, all that nonsense about proving his virility was just that, nonsense. He was himself and he wasn't all that bad, not at all. He was honorable because it was bred into him, Samuel was right about that, so what was the matter with it? But he felt guilty nonetheless and he felt a fraud, dammit, which wasn't fair.
"Well, hell," he said to a incredibly huge green turtle who was making a sluggish trail toward the water's edge. "Well, hell," he said again.
Samuel Grayson looked at Sophie with bleak eyes. Ryder had been right. She'd refused him without hesitation, but very nicely. She looked tired and somehow defeated. He hated it but didn't know what to do about it.
She tried to smile at him, but there were tears in her eyes. "You know I cannot," she said again, for he had remained silent. It seemed he'd used up all his words on Ryder Sherbrooke.
He said finally, his voice tired as his soul, "No, I don't understand. This shame of yours, it is nonsense. I am not a randy young man with expectations of purity, Sophia. I would that you reconsider."
Again, without hesitation, she said, "No, I'm sorry, Samuel." His name felt odd on her lips, for he'd been Mr. Grayson to her the entire four years she'd lived on Jamaica, but whe
n a man proposed, she supposed it wouldn't be polite to treat him like your father.
"I apologize if this embarrasses you, Sophie, but I know about what Ryder did to you. I know this is your shame. I am sorry for it."
"He told you?"
"No, certainly not. But he knows that I know. Is it possible you are with child?"
She paled and clutched a chair back. She was shaking her head violently even as she whispered, "Oh no, I couldn't be, it wouldn't be fair. Oh Lord, what am I to do?"
"You can marry me and be safe. I don't care if you are pregnant with his child."
She marveled at the goodness in him, the genuine caring for her, and knew regardless that she couldn't marry him, not ever. "No, I would never do that, never."
Samuel sighed. "Ryder was right."
She stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"He said you would refuse me because he'd bedded you."
She laughed, actually laughed, and Samuel stared at her dumbfounded. "Well," she managed at last, "at least he believes me to have some honor. Me, the whore of Jamaica! Ah, but it is too much."
Ryder heard that laughter and found himself walking swiftly toward it. It was strained and he felt the wildness of it to the very depths of him, a barely contained fierceness. It scared him to his toes. He quickly opened the door of the drawing room only to draw up in some embarrassment. He didn't know who he'd expected to be with her, but not Samuel Grayson. Good God, Samuel had said something to bring that on?
"Oh," he said. "Samuel, Sophie. Excuse me." "No, Ryder, it isn't necessary," Samuel said. "You were right. She won't have me. Now, I must needs see to some work. No, stay here, I will be off. I believe 1 will ride into Montego Bay and see what Sherman Cole is up to. Perhaps Thomas has been caught." Ryder didn't say a word until Samuel had closed the door after him.
Ryder felt a spurt of relief so profound that he trembled with it. He didn't want to accept the relief because accepting made him so furious with himself that he wanted to howl. He looked at her standing there in one of her modest muslin gowns, her feet bare as an urchin's, no bandages now, and he said, "I assume all those sweet girlish gowns I brought over from Camille Hall for you were from your precottage days?"