The Sherbrooke Bride (Sherbrooke Brides 1)

“Alexandra.”

“I’m Melissande. I’m Alexandra’s sister.”

“I know. My pleasure, ma’am. Come along, Tony.”

Melissande was left standing in the entrance hall, staring after her husband and the unobservant clod of an oblivious cousin-in-law. Hollis gently cleared his throat. “Should you like anything, my lady?”

“No,” Melissande said, her voice absent, for she was still suffering minor shock. “I must go upstairs and see what is wrong.”

Hollis smiled after her, knowing that her mirror would soon enjoy her image and her puzzlement.

Five minutes later he wasn’t smiling. His Lordship and his wife came into the hall, both looking as if they’d been dragged through a ditch. “My lord! Goodness! My lady, are you—”

“No, don’t fret, Hollis.” Douglas turned to Alexandra. “Go upstairs and do something about yourself.”

As a dismissal, it was clear and to the point. Even though he looked very probably as bad as she did, Alex kept quiet. She went upstairs.

Douglas said to Hollis, “We both fell from our horses, but no harm done.”

“Her Ladyship is limping a bit.”

“It serves her . . . well, perhaps a bit, but she’ll be just fine, don’t fret, Hollis.”

When told that his brother had come to grace the Northcliffe portals, Douglas cursed, cursed some more, stomped past Hollis, and stomped into the library. Three maids were peeking around the Golden Salon doors and two footmen were stationed unobtrusively beneath the stairs, staring out. Hollis, as was his wont, very gently sent them back to their duties.

“Ah,” Ryder said upon Douglas’s entrance. “Let me see your face. Tony claimed that you nearly beat him to a bloody pulp and you escaped without a mark. He said, of course, that he let you, that he only tried to defend himself.”

“It was his wife who nearly killed me,” Tony said. “She was first my sister-in-law, but now she shows me no loyalty. It isn’t right of her. I feel flayed with treachery.”

“Treachery! You damned cur! I’ll—”

Douglas stopped. There was nothing more to say. What he had to decide now was whether or not to annul the marriage. And now Ryder was here. He looked with some dislike upon his brother. “All right, why are you here, Ryder? Is Mother all right? Tysen and Sinjun?”

“Mother is carping about you at full steam. Sinjun is reading voraciously, as usual, and Tysen was prosing on and on until Sinjun threw a novel at him. In short, everyone is just the same, Douglas. They all think me at Newmarket. I was curious, that’s all. Where’s the chit Tony married you to? Does she have a squint? Is she fat with several chins? Missing teeth? Flat-breasted?”

“Don’t be an ass, Ryder,” Tony nearly shouted. “Alex is lovely and sweet-natured and—”

“Sweet-natured! Ha! You would say so, certainly, since you married her to me! She’s not Melissande.”

“I saw Melissande, Douglas,” Ryder said slowly, staring at his brother. “Tony was standing near her. I believe he’s afraid that every man who lays eyes on her will lose his head.”

“You saw her. He’s justified.”

“But you didn’t appear to,” Tony said thoughtfully to Ryder. “Why not?”

Ryder merely shrugged. “One woman’s much the same as another. So long as they’re warm and loving in bed, why then, who cares? Sorry, but I don’t mean to insult your wife, Tony, it’s just that . . . I will try to make her a fine cousin-in-law, all right?”

Tony chewed this over. He liked Ryder but he didn’t understand him. This cynicism of his, this utter bland indifference toward women in general, hadn’t led him to monkish tastes but rather to a satyr’s appetites. No, he didn’t like women particularly, yet he supported his bastards and their mothers. He never blamed a woman for becoming pregnant. It was perplexing. Women were sport to Ryder, nothing more, and he was quite willing to pay for it and accept the consequences. It was also a relief that Melissande was safe from his ogling. But Douglas . . . Tony turned to his cousin and said, “I understand you and Alex were riding. She’s a superior horsewoman.”

Douglas grunted.

“You are a bit disheveled, Douglas,” Tony persevered. “What happened?”

“I fell off Garth; rather, that cursed woman you married pushed me off my horse. She fell off first and now I will have to buy her a new riding habit. Did you see the one she was wearing? Old and dowdy, doubtless all her other clothes are equally distasteful, and I’ll wager it was all planned by her fond parent so I would be forced to buy her a new wardrobe. She looks a fright, Tony, damn you to hell.”

Tony frowned. “That’s odd. Melissande has beautiful gowns and the softest silk, er, feminine things.”

Ryder said quickly, “There’s a faint bruise by your left eye and over your right ear, Douglas. Any other battle marks?”