The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

The door flew open and in strode a young girl with thick, curly brownish-blond hair and the most beautiful blue eyes Sophie had ever seen. Actually, they were exactly the same color as Ryder's eyes; the girl's hair matched Ryder's as well. She looked exuberant, full of life—just as Ryder did—and she was grinning at them. "Ho! What's this? I saw you climb off that carriage. My, you're wet and doubtless miserable. I myself am so very tired of this blasted rain. Do forgive me, but I'm Sinjun, you know, the earl's sister. Who are you?"

Sophie had to grin back. There wasn't really a choice. This girl was exactly as Ryder had described her. She was tall, lanky, lovely really, and friendly as a puppy.

Sophie stepped toward her. "I am Sophia Stanton-Greville. Well no, that's no longer correct. I am Sophia Sherbrooke. I am Ryder's wife and this is Jeremy, my brother."

Sinjun could only stare at the wet, frowzy girl standing there in front of her in a girlish muslin gown that was too short for her, a gown that Ryder would have found utterly distasteful.

This was excessively odd.

"Oh dear, is it true? It's difficult to believe, you know. Ryder married! Imagine such a thing. It leaves the brain numb. I never thought he would take a wife because he absolutely adores so many ladies and—"

"I believe that is quite enough, Sinjun."

The earl, Sophie thought, and went very still. He didn't look at all like either Ryder or Sinjun. He was massively built, all lean and muscular, very tall, his shoulders broad as the front door, and dark as a Moor, his hair black as midnight, his eyes just as dark. He looked ruthless and mean and severe and she couldn't imagine him doing anything but tossing her and Jeremy out on their wet ears. He was looking at her, taking in every detail. Sophie knew what she and Jeremy looked like. It wasn't promising. Her chin went higher. She remembered Ryder telling her that his brother, the earl, would have demolished her in no time had he been the one to come to Jamaica. He wouldn't have enjoyed playing her games as Ryder had.

Then, quite suddenly, the earl smiled. It changed him utterly. Sophie heard Jeremy release a pent-up breath. "Forgive my sister here for bombarding you the moment you arrived. It wasn't well done of you, brat. Now, I am Douglas Sherbrooke, Ryder's broth­er. Welcome to Northcliffe Hall."

Sophie gave him a curtsy, saying quietly, "I am Sophia and this is my brother, Jeremy. We left Ryder on Jamaica to conclude business, but he will return here very soon. It is all very compli­cated." She paused, not another word swirling to the forefront of her brain, thrust her hand into her reticule and retrieved Ryder's letter. She thrust it at the earl.

He smiled at her quizzically as he took the let­ter, saying, "Please be seated. Sinjun, make yourself useful and have Mrs. Peacham send some tea and some cakes. Our guests look a bit tired."

"Yes, Douglas," Sinjun said, rubbing her hands together. "Wait until Alex hears about this, she's my other sister, you know. I just—"

"Go, brat!"

Sinjun went, but not before she winked at Sophie.

"Forgive my sister's impertinence," Douglas said as he opened the letter, "but no one has ever man­aged to curb her tongue."

"Her tongue is friendly. I didn't mind."

"Nor did I," said Jeremy.

"Actually, I don't either. Excuse me a moment," the earl said, and lowered his eyes to the letter.

Sophie didn't know what Ryder had written. She had wondered many times during the voyage, one time even going so far as to hold the envelope over a candle hoping to loosen the wax. She'd drawn it back. With her luck, if she did open it, it would show and the earl would believe her a sham. She pictured him pointing a long finger at her as she was dragged out the door. She stood there, stiff and miserable, waiting like a condemned prisoner in the dock. The earl read the letter through very slowly. When he looked at her there was a softening about his mouth. There was also a glittering in his dark eyes. He looked very human now. Sophie noted these changes with relief. She had learned to read men quite well in the past nearly two years.

"Ryder tells about some nasty business that has nearly been concluded satisfactorily."

Sophie hoped she wasn't the major part of the nasty business. "I see," she said, waiting, wary and very still.

"He also writes that I am to call you Sophie. He writes that Sophia sounds like a Russian princess who has ice water in her veins. He says you're warm and sweet."

"He wrote that?"

"My brother always gets to the kernel of the mat­ter, Sophie. He doesn't waste time on trivialities. As for you, Jeremy, Ryder says you are the best of brother-in-laws and I am to immediately put you on a horse."

"Ryder really said that? But it is too bad of him, sir, for I am his only brother-in-law!"

"Yes, that is true as well. He requests that I look after the two of you until he comes home."

Both brother and sister merely stared at the Earl of Northcliffe. Douglas Sherbrooke realized fully that they'd been perfectly terrified of him. When Hollis had told him that his sister-in-law was wait­ing to see him, he'd laughed and wondered aloud at the gall of some of Ryder's women. "A child is with her, you say? Goodness, a boy about ten years old? It doesn't make sense, Hollis. Ryder isn't old enough to have fathered a boy that age!" But Hollis hadn't laughed with him. He'd looked utterly austere and said as he looked past Douglas's right shoulder, "Do not treat her badly, my lord. You are quite wrong. She is who she claims to be."

It was true they both looked like drowned urchins. It was even truer that Sophie wasn't a remarkable beauty, not like the women Ryder would normal­ly rave about. But there was something lovely in the cast of her features, and he wasn't blind to the pride and stubbornness in her, or the character. His brother had married her. It was difficult to accept even with the evidence standing in front of him. It was difficult to accept even though Hollis had been convinced immediately. The earl shook himself and tried to find something to say. He was rescued by the entrance of Mrs. Peacham herself, the Sherbrooke housekeeper for twenty years.

"Master Ryder's wife, just imagine that! But you're not at all comfortable, are you, in those wet clothes? Oh, but aren't you a sweetling and just look at all that pretty hair! Goodness me, I'm Mrs. Peacham, and I'll take care of you and you'll not have to worry about a thing."

Sophie was overcome. She nodded. "I'm not all that wet now."