The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

She didn't look up. "Nonsense," she said.

He leaned down and jerked up the skirt of her riding habit. "Then why aren't you wearing shoes?"

She slapped her petticoats and skirt back down. "Go to the devil, Ryder. Camille Hall belongs to Jeremy now. He is still there. In truth I became overtired and came here to rest a bit. Now, what do you want? More truths from the resident harlot's mouth?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

He looked at her with acute dislike. He shook his head and said, "As of thirty minutes ago, you and I have no choice in the way we must now proceed. You will come back to Kimberly with me. You have much to do before tomorrow morning."

"What the devil are you talking about?" she asked with a cold indifference that nearly made his eyes cross with rage.

"Look at me, damn you!"

She sighed and looked up. 'Your language is foul. You're also standing with your back against the sun and I can't really see your face. Forget your display of manliness and sit down, Ryder."

He did and crossed his legs, like hers. 'You will listen to me now, Sophie. I dislike you speaking to me like that. That was no manliness display; I was just standing there, like anyone would just stand there."

She nearly smiled. She began to sift sand through her fingers. He truly didn't perceive the natural arrogance that was deep within him. All wish to smile vanished as he continued, saying, "Now, there is no other solution. I have thought and thought, but it does no good. I have argued with myself. I have brooded, a pastime I abhor. I have presented myself with all the reasons why it is the height of fool­ishness, the very depths of idiocy, but nothing has worked. Very well, then, I will have to marry you."

&n

bsp; She stared at him. "You're mad."

"Yes. However, I will do it. I can't seem to find another choice for myself. I will marry you. You and Jeremy will be aboard a ship leaving for England early tomorrow morning. You will wed me this eve­ning. When you reach England, you and Jeremy will journey to my family at Northcliffe Hall, and they will take care of you until I come home."

"You're doing this because you're afraid I'm with child? Your child?"

"No. Sherman Cole is digging up your uncle tomor­row. Then he will arrest you. He's even offered money to Thomas to come out of hiding to testify against you. Therefore you will marry me, and you and Jeremy will be long gone by the time Cole is rubbing his fat hands together contemplating having you complete­ly in his power. No, don't say anything. You have to leave Jamaica. Ah, do you want to know what you're getting in a husband? You won't have a title because I'm the second son, as you know. However, I am rich enough even for you, I imagine. Hell, now that I own Kimberly Hall, I daresay I can give you whatever your heart desires."

"Excellent. All right, my heart desires that I will be Jeremy's guardian and that it will be I who will see he receives a gentleman's education."

"Don't do this, there is no time for further games on your part. We will wed. It will be done. Be quiet. I'm not jesting about Cole and his intentions."

She jumped to her feet. "I can't believe this. Are you certain? But—" She stared down at him, silent now. She turned and picked up her skirts and ran down the beach.

"Sophie! Come back here! Your damned feet!"

She ran faster. He, fool that he was, was wor­ried because her damned feet weren't yet completely healed. He ran after her, and because he was stron­ger, his legs longer and unhampered by petticoats and skirts, he caught her quickly. He grabbed her arm and jerked her around to face him. He pulled her up against him and kissed her hard.

She struggled and jerked and tugged, but even when he released her mouth, he didn't let her go. "Do you prefer the hangman to marriage with me?"

She shook her head.

"Ah, but before the hangman you would doubtless have Sherman Cole slavering all over you when he rapes you."

"You don't have to say anything more."

"Good, because I was growing a bit impatient."

"This is absurd. I am very ordinary, Ryder. I am common. I have no secrets, nothing to interest you. I'm not ignorant because I have read a lot, a pas­time I know gentlemen consider frivolous in women, mayhap even harmful for their brains. Believe me, I am nothing at all, merely a backwater colonial with no pretensions to anything. Why do you feel responsible for me? It is not your fault that my uncle is dead."

"Shut up." He kissed her again but she was strug­gling frantically against him, and he didn't want to risk hurting her ribs. He contented himself with merely holding her. He felt the heat of her, felt her breasts heaving against his chest, and he closed his eyes a moment.

"Do you forget how much you dislike me, Ryder? You think me a horrible woman. You scorn me and what you believe I am. Why are you doing this?"

He looked over her shoulder at the jagged black rocks that jutted out into the sea. "I have to. Call it my honor. Call it an attack of scruples. Samuel said I'd ruined you. Perhaps you are even now carrying my child. Now, in addition to your ruination and a possible babe, there is the matter of saving your neck. Now, come back with me. We both have a lot to do."