The Hellion Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 2)

She gave him a slight curtsy, then looked at him more closely. Sophie watched, fascinated, as Mrs. Grammond's color rose again, only this time it was from the pleasure of Ryder's attention. Goodness, it appeared that a woman had to be on death's door before she was immune to him. Then she actual­ly stammered. "A—a pleasure, Mr. Sherbrooke. Do forgive my husband. He is a nodcock. He has nev­er had much sense, else Lord David wouldn't have ruined him. He won't bother your poor wife fur­ther."

"But how did you know?" Charles Grammond final­ly said, staring in utter horror at his wife.

She bestowed upon him a look of tolerant scorn. "I always read any letters you receive. Most of them are from tradesmen and you have no notion of how to deal with tradesmen. I do. Your aunt and I have discussed this in great detail and have come to an understanding. However, when I found this letter from the little lordling here, the cheating weasel who ruined us, I realized what had happened. Natu­rally, he couldn't prevent telling you all about the supposedly nonsensical tale Sophia had told him about her innocence and her uncle's guilt.

"I knew Theo Burgess when he was young. Even as a young man, he was a pious little fake. He was the kind of man who preaches goodness to all man­kind on Sunday and cheats his bookkeeper out of a groat on Monday. Goodness, it was all very clear to me. In addition, of course, I followed you one night to that cottage and saw this other girl. You are such a fool, Charles. I won't allow your stupidity to prevent me and the children from living as we ought. You will now apologize to Mrs. Sherbrooke and to Mr. Sherbrooke and take yourself home. I will deal fully with you later."

Charles Grammond said, "I apologize, Sophia, Mr. Sherbrooke." He then looked at Lord David and frowned. "Surely you will no longer insist that she's a whore."

"She is, damn her!"

Ah, at last, Ryder thought, rubbed his hands together, and strode to Lord David, who had put up his hands in the stance of a prizefighter. Ryder laughed for the sheer joy of it, and knocked him flat.

Mrs. Grammond clapped her plump hands togeth­er.

Sophie, still stunned, simply stood there like a mute idiot.

Lord David came up on his elbows and shook his head. "I'm quite good at fighting. You knocked me down. It shouldn't have happened. Who taught you?"

"Stand up and we'll see if you can't improve," Ryder said and offered him a hand.

Lord David wasn't, however, a complete fool. He stayed on the ground. He said to Charles Grammond even as he was turning to leave as his wife had told him to, "You can't allow your wife to tell Agnes—the heiress's bloody name is Agnes!—about all this! Her father would ruin me. He would see that I was run out of the county."

Charles Grammond never slowed. He disappeared into the elm trees. His wife, however, turned to the felled Lord David.

"You're a poltroon, sir. However, I will make you a bargain. I won't say a word to your betrothed's father if you return all the money you cheated my husband out of on Jamaica."

Lord David turned white. "Madam, I haven't a sou. Why do you think I'm marrying this awful female named Agnes?"

"That, my lord, is your affair," said Mrs. Grammond, and she actually sniffed. "I expect to hear from you within three days, no more, else you will surely regret it. And don't think you can threaten to ruin the Sherbrookes with your nasty little stories. Both my husband and I will make certain everyone knows you're a liar.

"Now, Mr. Sherbrooke, Mrs. Sherbrooke, I do hope these two fools haven't overly upset you. There will be no more threats or problems from either of them. Good day to you both." She gave Ryder the sweetest smile imaginable, nodded briskly to Sophie, kicked dust in Lord David's face, and marched around the shack to where her gig was stationed like a waiting army.

Ryder laughed. He couldn't help it.

Sophia said in a wondering voice, "The Virgin Bride was right. She said when they came it would work out all right."

"There is no bloody ghost," Ryder said. "Just stop it. It was a lurid excuse for a nightmare that you hadn't yet had." He turned to Lord David, who was now sitting cross-legged in the dirt, shaking his head as he stared at his dusty boots. "As for you, you will keep your mouth shut. Unlike Mrs. Grammond, I won't content myself with ruining you. I'll kill you. Do you understand me?"

Lord David sighed deeply, and nodded. He was clearly distracted. He said on another deep sigh, "I wonder if I can convince the chit to elope with me. It's the only way I can get the money in three days."

Sophie and Ryder just looked at each other.

EPILOGUE

Chadwyck House January 1804

RYDER LEANED DOWN and kissed the nape of her neck, her flesh warm and soft against his mouth. She sighed and said nothing, merely leaned her head back against his belly. He kissed her forehead, then moved to her ears, his hands lightly encircling her throat, caressing her jawline with his thumbs. She sighed again and tried to turn to face him, but he held her still.

"You taste so bloody good," he said, and kissed her neck one more time. He ran his hands down her arms, then sighed himself, and released her. "No time, dammit, to show you what other uses one can make of a desktop." He eyed the very feminine writing desk, adding, "We will take great care if ever we make use of this feeble-looking thing. Perhaps I could simply have you lean against it—"

"Ryder!"

He gave another long-suffering sigh and came over to repose himself against the writing table, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm testing its strength," he said. "For future reference." He looked down at the list of numbers. "What are you doing?"

"Adding up the accounts for Brandon House. Soon, my dear, next week, I think, we will have an exodus. Jane and I are planning a party. Jane's impatient."

"It's not that Jane complains, exactly," he said. "But she is looking forward to moving into her new house. The children as well."