The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

He strode to the house, his riding crop slashing against his thigh in rhythm to his walk.

He didn’t say anything to anyone. He shook his head at Philip when he would say something, and took the stairs two and three at a time.

“Remember, Papa,” Philip shouted after him. “Remember she’s been ill!”

“She’ll pray for a fever before I’m through with her,” Colin shouted back over his shoulder.

He saw Aunt Arleth. She, in turn, saw his rage and smiled. It was obvious to Colin that she was devoutly praying that he would murder his wife. It was a thought, but he preferred torture and slow strangulation. Emma was coming out of one of the wives’ bedchambers. She saw the earl and quickly dashed back inside.

“Smart of you,” he said under his breath. He wanted to crash into the laird’s bedchamber and start yelling. At the last minute he forced himself to calm. These ladies had to be handled carefully. They were used to men who yelled; yelling wouldn’t yield the desired effect of making them fall in a faint and stutter and plead and stammer out the truth.

Very gently, his fingers nearly cramping with the effort to contain his ire, Colin opened the bedchamber door. Odd, but he wasn’t at all surprised to see the two wives gowned as gloriously as society ladies all set for tea. They looked elegant, fresh, and beautiful; his wife was lying in bed, her hair soft and curling around her face, wearing a lovely lace-covered peignoir. She looked very young and elegant and innocent as a lamb. She was holding a book in her hand. All looked tranquil. It could have been an English drawing room in Putnam Square. There wasn’t a hair out of place on any of their heads. There wasn’t a wrinkle in any of their gowns. They were giving him inquiring looks, as if to say, “Goodness, a gentleman is here. How very strange. He came without an invitation. What should we do with him?”

Sinjun called out, her voice as sweet and innocent as her damned face, “Oh, Colin. I’m delighted you’re back. Do forgive me for sending you on that quite useless errand to Dr. Childress, but I felt much better nearly the exact moment after you’d left. Strange, isn’t it? I tried to call you back but you left too quickly. I’m just fine now, as you can see. Aren’t you pleased?”

“What I see,” Colin said mildly as he walked into the room, “is a quite perfect stage setting. My God, it would do any Drury Lane theater proud. The three of you are really quite good. I’ve always known that Joan could move quickly—indeed, accomplish incredible tasks in very little time, just witness our elopement—and now I see that you two aren’t to be left in the dust. Even the color of your gowns and her peignoir complement each other. Remarkable. I applaud you.”

Sinjun said nothing. The wives were silent, blank smiles firmly affixed to their faces, their hands steady in their laps.

He walked to Sinjun and sat beside her on the bed. He very lightly traced his fingertips over her cheek. She looked suddenly flushed as a very ripe apple. He was so furious he wanted to strangle her. He looked at her white neck wistfully. Her hair was soft and lovely, so very thick and curly. He ran his fingers through several strands. He remained silent, just looking at her, touching her face and hair.

Sinjun had believed he would storm into their bedchamber and yell and rant. But he hadn’t and now she wasn’t so sure. She waited, keeping quiet. There wasn’t a word in her head in any case.

“How very lovely you look,” he said after another few moments of silence. “Lovely and clean and there’s not even a hint of horse smell on you.”

“We only rode for a very little while. I did tire quickly.”

“Yes, I imagine you did. Poor darling, are you certain you’re better? I don’t have to fear another relapse?”

“Oh no, Colin, I feel just grand. It’s kind of you to be concerned for me.”

“Yes, isn’t it? Actually, what I want from you, Joan, what I want this very instant, is the truth. If you lie to me, I will know it and I will punish you.”

“Punish me? Really, sir, such a threat isn’t at all civilized.”

“At this moment I’m not feeling at all civilized. I’m feeling quite savage. Speak to me, Joan. Now.” His voice was so low and calm and quiet, yet his words . . . Oh dear, he couldn’t be any more dangerous than Douglas or Ryder at their best, could he?

She darted a look toward Sophie and Alex, who both looked nailed to their chairs. Then Sophie, bless her, jumped to her feet. “Goodness, Colin, all we did was ride out a bit, nothing more. Then Sinjun felt a bit weak and we came back to the castle and put her to bed. Surely you aren’t angry about that.”

Colin said pleasantly, “You’re lying, Sophie. Unfortunately, I’m not your husband so I can’t beat you. But this simpleton here is my wife. She belongs to me. She is supposed to obey me; however, I’ve yet to experience that blessed phenomenon. She will have to learn that—”

Alex grabbed her stomach, groaned loudly, and jumped to her feet. “Oh dear! The baby—my stomach. Sophie, I’m going to be ill. Oh dear!”

It was a tableau worthy of Emma Hamilton, and Colin wasn’t untouched by the talent to produce it. He began clapping. “Bravo,” he said. “Ah, yes, bravo.”

Alex fell to her knees and vomited on the newly cleaned Aubusson carpet.

CHAPTER

17

“SHE WAS ALWAYS throwing up when she was pregnant with the twins,” Sinjun said, struggling to get out of bed. “The first three months kept everyone on their toes trying to keep basins near her. Poor Alex.”

“No, stay put,” Colin said to his wife. He strode over to Alex, who was clutching her sides now, nothing more in her belly, trying to catch her breath. He grasped his sister-in-law under her arms and pulled her upright. He took a look at her pale face and the sweaty strands of hair plastered to her forehead, and swung her into his arms. He said gently, “You’re feeling miserable, aren’t you? I’m sorry, but it will get better soon.” Sighing, Alex lay her face against his shoulder.

“Get some water and dampen a towel, Sophie,” Colin said, and laid Alex next to Sinjun on the bed.

“At least she didn’t eat much breakfast,” Sinjun said. “Poor Alex, are you all right?”