The Heiress Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 3)

“The Virgin Bride visited Alex, naturally,” Sophie said. “She normally only appears in the countess’s bedchamber, as Douglas very well knows, except for that time when I first came to Northcliffe Hall. Then she welcomed me in your bedchamber, Ryder.”

“Bosh,” said Ryder. “You were anxious for me to make love to you, and when I didn’t come to you quickly enough, your female brain decided upon something dramatic to relieve your anxiety. That or Sinjun played the Virgin Bride again. Alex’s brain has done the same thing.”

“But she does usually visit only the countess’s bedchamber,” Alex said. “As Douglas very well knows.”

“That’s not entirely true. Once—” Douglas stopped and cursed. “Listen, all of you. Enough is enough. For whatever combination of reasons, all of us are here. There is a situation. I should like to get it resolved. Now, Sinjun, what have you done with this MacPherson fellow whom we don’t yet know?”

“We manacled him and locked him in a deserted croft.”

The three men stared at Sinjun, speechless for the first time in fifteen minutes. The chamber reeked with the blessed silence.

“We weren’t overly cruel,” Sinjun continued. “He has some length on the chain so he can walk about a bit and do private things as well. But the manacle was necessary. We couldn’t risk his escaping.”

“I see,” Colin said slowly. “And is Robbie to starve to death?”

“Oh no,” Alex said, eyes firmly on Colin, not on Douglas. “We’re taking turns going to the croft to feed him. We didn’t want you to suspect anything.” She sighed. “I suppose it’s all blasted to hell now.”

Douglas’s dark eyes twinkled, he couldn’t help it. “No,” he said, patting his wife’s pale cheek, “no, it’s not at all blasted anywhere.” He rose. “Ryder, Colin, shall we handle this situation to our satisfaction now?”

Sinjun gasped. “No, we won’t let you! Why don’t all of you just go back home—”

“I am home,” Colin said.

“You know what I mean. We don’t need your interference. Everything is going splendidly. There is no more situation. I have everything in hand. All plans will . . . Oh damn, just go away, all of you.”

“Where is the croft, Joan?”

“I shan’t tell you. You’ll just let him go and then he’ll kill you and I’ll be a widow even before I’m scarcely a wife, and it isn’t fair.”

“I fully intend that you become a full and complete and happy wife,” Colin said, and was pleased when she closed her mouth. “Where is the croft?”

Sinjun just shook her head.

Douglas said, “All right, Alex, where is it?”

Alex batted her eyelashes and looked utterly helpless. She heaved a deep sigh, which sent her husband’s eyes immediately to her glorious bosom. She fluttered her hands. “I don’t remember, Douglas; you know how horrid I am with directions. It was all this way and then that way and only Sinjun knows. Sophie and I were hopelessly lost, weren’t we, Sophie?”

“Hopelessly.”

“I’m going to beat you now,” Ryder said, and hauled his wife tightly against him. He leaned down to say something, but kissed her instead, full on her mouth. He raised his head and grinned. “Don’t worry, Douglas, Colin. I can get anything at all out of her with enough time. She melts like a candle. It’s really quite charming and—”

Sophie sent her fist into his belly.

He sucked in his breath but continued to grin. “Now, love, don’t deny it, you know that you adore me, that you worship me and the very shadow of my footsteps. You’re like a lovely rose that opens to the sun each morning.”

“Gawd,” Sinjun said, “you’re a horrible poet, Ryder. Just be quiet and let Sophie alone.”

Colin, frowning, said, “I would like to know what you three intended to do with MacPherson. Surely you don’t want to have to feed him three times a day for the next thirty years?”

“No,” Sinjun said. “We have a plan. If you would simply go away and drink brandy or something, all will be taken care of.”

“What is the plan, Sinjun?” Douglas asked. He rose now to walk around to her side of the bed. She shook her head and stared at the middle button on his buff riding jacket.

“Sinjun,” he said, leaning down over her, “I held you in my arms when you were born. You burped up milk on my shirt. I taught you how to ride. Ryder taught you how to tell jokes. We both taught you how to shoot and enjoy books. Without us, you would have grown up to be scarce anything at all. Now, tell us what your plan is.”

She shook her head again.

“I can still whip you, brat.”