The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

"Ah, perversity. Thank God I'm your husband. Otherwise you would spend all your time with me in the agony of mortification."

"I'm no more with child than I was in Jamaica."

Ryder wanted to cry, but he didn't. He grinned at her, patted her gloved hand, and said, "Perhaps there is something to having a harem. No need to have to put things off, you know."

Chadwyck House lay only five miles to the east of Strawberry Hill, the seat of the Viscount Rathmore, and very nearly in the middle between Lower Slaugh­ter and Mortimer Coombe. Ryder had no idea if Tony Parrish and his beyond beautiful bride, Melissande, were still at Strawberry Hill or if Tony had tak­en Melissande to London. He really didn't care. They reached the Chadwyck House grounds by late afternoon.

"Have you ever before been to the Cotswolds, Sophie?"

"No. It's very beautiful."

"You're in for a treat. Just wait until October. The leaves are brilliant, the air crisp, and you want to cry it is so lovely."

But all thoughts of crying for loveliness fled Ryder's mind when the carriages bowled to a stop in front of Chadwyck House. He hadn't been here in close to a year he realized with a start. Eleven and a half months. And this had happened in that short period of time?

The graceful Tudor manor house with its diamond-paned windows, several of them broken, looked as if it had been left to molder. Ivy climbed to the second story of the house; the grass and weeds covered everything, even sprouting through the cracked stone front steps. The stables looked deserted, field implements lay rusted and unused next to the stable.

Sophie frowned. "I don't understand," she said finally.

"Nor do I."

He jumped from the carriage, then assisted her down.

He heard Tinker say, "Good Gawd, what the hell happened here?"

"I'll find Allen Dubust and find out," Ryder said. Sophie looked at him. She realized in that moment that she hadn't seen him this angry since Jamaica, since he'd found her beaten.

"Stay here," he said shortly, and strode up the cracked front steps. He pounded on the oak double front doors.

He pounded again.

Finally, very slowly, one of the doors opened just a crack and an old wizened face peered out.

"Master Ryder! Lawdie, Lawdie! The good Lord finally answered my prayers!"

"Mrs. Smithers, what's happened here? Where is Allen Dubust? What the devil is going on?"

"Lawdie, Lawdie," Mrs. Smithers said, then pulled both doors open wide.

"Sophie, come on in. Tinker, bring Cory, and over­see the luggage. I don't think there's much help coming out of here."

The interior of the house was a mess. Ryder started to curse, then noticed that Mrs. Smithers was leaning on two broomsticks roughly fashioned as crutches.

"Tell me what's happened," he said. He saw Sophie from the corner of his eye and added, "This is my wife, Mrs. Sherbrooke. Sophie, this is Mrs. Smithers. She's been here forever. She will tell us what happened."

What happened was that Allen Dubust had thrown Mrs. Smithers down the stairs after dismissing all the other servants because she'd refused to believe him and threatened him with the local magistrate. "I told him he were a rotten sort and I always knew it and I wouldn't leave and he couldn't make me. I told him I'd tell everyone what he did. He didn't like that. He picked me up and threw me down the stairs." He'd stripped the house, taken all the money, sold off land he had no authority to sell, and left the district. "He told me, he did, that he'd been telling everyone that you had sold Chadwyck House." Unfortunately, Mrs. Smithers hadn't seen a blessed soul, because, after all, the house was vacant, and since she couldn't walk, there was no way she could get to the village to tell anyone what had happened. She'd barely managed to get to the front doors.

Sophie said, "I will have Tinker ride immediately back to Lower Slaughter and fetch a doctor for you, Mrs. Smithers."

"But the house!" Mrs. Smithers wailed and looked for the world as though she would burst into tears.

Sophie patted her bent old shoulder and said gent­ly, "It's just a house. We'll fix it up again. You'll see. It's you we're worried about. You've done very well. Don't you agree, Ryder?"

He looked at his wife. Jesus, he thought, she'd cer­tainly changed from the frightened, wary girl who'd lived in his brother's house. He cleared his throat and said, "Everything will be put to rights. You first of all, Mrs. Smithers. I'm proud of you and I thank you."

Two hours later, Mrs. Smithers was tucked into bed, heavily dosed with laudanum, her broken leg properly set by an aghast Dr. Pringle, who just kept shaking his head. "I just don't believe she managed to survive," he said over and over again. "That old woman just wouldn't give up."

Once the doctor had left, Ryder and Sophie stood facing each other in the filthy entrance hall.