The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

She said after she'd moved her queen's bishop, "We will be home soon. Rather, we will arrive in Southampton."

"Yes, Ryder told me that a carriage would get us to Northcliffe Hall all in one day. He didn't want us to have to stop at an inn for the night because we're alone. He said I had to grow another foot at least before I could protect you properly." Jeremy smiled then and added, "Ryder's going to teach me how to fight."

"I'm delighted it pleases you so, but heed me, love, one doesn't necessarily need a man. I'm not a fool or helpless."

"Of course you're not like most girls," Jeremy said, not looking up at her, his entire attention now on the position of his pieces and his burgeoning strategy. "Ryder said you'd say something like that. He also said that he was responsible for both of us now and that was the end to it."

"Perhaps you would like to discuss some of the plays both of us have read."

Jeremy easily accepted her change of subject. "I was reading one of the Restoration plays and Mr. Mattison saw it. I thought he'd throw it overboard he was so upset. He turned red in the face and actually sputtered at me. Even the top of his head turned red. It was a remarkable sight."

Sophie chuckled. "Some o

f those plays are fairly racy. Perhaps you'd best show me what you plan to read before you read it."

Jeremy frowned as he looked up at his sister. "I've got to learn all about men and women sometime, Sophie. In the plays they act pretty silly and do the most outlandish things. As for the other part of it, it just seems strange to me."

"I think you're right about the strange part," Sophie said. She thought of Ryder and felt a pang of something—guilt? Anger? She wasn't certain. She did know, however, that she missed him—his wit, his outrageousness, the way he teased her until her eyes nearly crossed with rage. She looked up when Jeremy moved his queen's bishop pawn.

"Oh ho, it appears you want to trample my cen­ter." She moved her king's knight, a mindless move really, then sat back in her chair, her arms folded over her chest. "That should take care of your foolish hopes."

Jeremy said as he fiddled with a rook, "You're not very happy, Sophie. You miss Ryder, don't you? I know I do. He's a great brother-in-law. I'm glad you married him. I'm glad we left Jamaica, because we are English, you know. But still it's kind of scary." He finally released the rook and moved his queen's bishop instead. "Do you think his family will like us?"

"I pray so, Jeremy." Nor did she miss Jamaica. All the happiness she'd experienced on Jamaica could be weighed in her left hand.

"Well, I don't see why they wouldn't like us. We're nice and we know how to use our forks at the dinner table. You shouldn't have moved that knight. It was a bad move. I'm not just going to trample your cen­ter. I don't have to. Checkmate, Sophie."

"Why," she said aloud, "don't I ever learn?"

Sophie shook away the memory. She prayed every night that she and Jeremy wouldn't be shunted aside by Ryder's powerful brother, Douglas Sherbrooke. After that she simply stared off into space. She didn't know what to pray for. She couldn't begin to imagine her future. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes and she slapped it away.

Seven interminable weeks. It was nearly over. She wondered how much longer it would be before Ryder returned home. She would have to be a wife to him, whatever that would mean.

She immediately shied away from that.

Jeremy waved to Clancey, the third mate, a young man full of high spirits and liking for children. "Aye," he'd told Sophie at the beginning of the long voyage, "I was one of nine nippers, and there was only me ma to see to us. Don't ye worry about Jeremy here. He be a good lad. I'll see he don't go headfirst into the briny deep." Sophie liked him. He appeared utterly disinterested in her; some of the other sailors looked to be interested but they kept their distance, thanks to a frank discussion the captain had given them. "As the only woman on board, ma'am," he'd told her, "you will still be careful." And she had.

She was bored. She was also worried.

She made herself dizzy trying to structure the future for her and Jeremy.

Southampton at eight o'clock on a drizzly, foggy morning was an alien landscape with men yelling on the docks, drays and wagons of all sizes being loaded and unloaded. As it turned out, the first mate, Mr. Mattison, escorted them to the Outrigger Inn and hired a carriage and two outriders, just as Ryder had demanded.

Ryder had his way even here. She'd had no choice in the matter. She smiled up at Mr. Mattison and offered him her hand. "Thank you. You were kind to us. Good-bye."

Jeremy begged to ride on top of the carriage with the coachman, but Sophie said he couldn't until after the fog burned off and the sun came out.

The weather remained horrible.

Jeremy fidgeted until Sophie released him to ride with the coachman. It was after a lunch of codfish and strawberries that Sophie's stomach rebelled. Four hours later when the carriage pulled into the long winding drive of Northcliffe Hall, there was no one inside the carriage. Sophie and Jeremy sat huddled together against the drizzling rain, the driver pressed against Jeremy's other side.

An hour before Sophie had ceased to care. She felt trickles of rain snake down the back of her neck. She was shuddering from cold. There was gooseflesh on her arms.

"Goodness, Sophie, it's so big!"

She looked and swallowed. Northcliffe Hall was overwhelming, a huge Palladian mansion of three stories. She couldn't imagine real people living in that awesome structure. The two outriders, bored and wondering why the devil their escort had been needed in the first place—good hell, the girl had ridden on top like a serving wench—accepted pay­ment from Sophie and took themselves off. As for the coachman, he scratched his head, stared from Sophie to Jeremy and back again and said, "Well, miss, this is the fancy cove's abode what ye wanted to come to. Northcliffe 'All. All right an' tight. Be ye sure this is where ye should be?"

Sophie wanted very much to say no, but she merely nodded, paid the man, and watched him bowl down the drive. She and Jeremy were left in front of the wide, deep stairs of the mansion, their two paltry valises sitting forlornly beside them on the gravel drive. Rain dripped off the end of her nose.