Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

Julian managed to grab Richard’s wrist before he pulled the trigger. When the gun fired, the shot went wide. There was only one bullet in the derringer. Julian pulled Richard close again.” Listen to me, I loved her, no one else, and she loved me.”

The familiar sneer marred Richard’s mouth. “Time grows close now, don’t forget.”

Julian felt his blood run cold. “Stay away from Sophie Wilkie and Roxanne Radcliffe. Stay away from Devlin Monroe. This is between us, no one else, just us.”

Richard slowly raised his pistol, leveled it right between Julian’s eyes. “This derringer holds two bullets, but I shouldn’t want to hang or be deported, either. Soon, Julian.” He turned away, whistling again, a Navy ditty, popular on Julian’s ships, actually written by Amos Toft, first mate aboard the Blue Star.

Julian’s heart pounded hard and fast. He called out, “Stay away from Sophie’s aunt Leah. Surely she cannot know what you are about.”

Richard turned slowly. “That’s right, Leah is Sophie Wilkie’s aunt, isn’t she? Fancy that. It is indeed a small world, isn’t it?”

“You knew exactly who she was, and that is why you attached her.”

“But how could I have known that?” He laughed. “Leah is known as the most beautiful Radcliffe sister, at least that is what she told me. Mayhap she is more beautiful than Roxanne Radcliffe. What do you think?”

“I have not yet met her.”

“I believe I find Leah quite fascinating. The stories she tells me, so many of them, about her sisters and their silliness, their never-ending ill will and spite toward her—the beautiful middle sister. The only time she shuts her mouth is when she is moaning. And that is lovely, I assure you.”

“You set yourself out to meet her because you knew who she was. But I wonder, how did you find out about my mother’s scheme?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Julian. Will you be at the Caulcott musicale this evening? You will be able to meet the most beautiful Radcliffe sister. Do you know she looks like an angel, all pale blond hair, blue eyes the color of a summer sky? Thankfully she was not cursed with the red hair of her sister—it is vulgar, don’t you think?”

“Her hair is the color of the sunset over the Aegean Sea.”

“So the wind blows that way, does it? And not toward little Sophie Wilkie? How very disappointed your dear mother must be.”

Julian said not another word, forced himself to walk away, his own pistol still in his pocket. He wanted to shoot Richard right between the eyes. He was the better shot, at least he was once upon a time. It all seemed so long ago as to be a different lifetime.

What are you planning, Richard? To hurt Sophie? Roxanne? So that I will be hurt as you were?

There appeared to be no hope for it. The last thing Julian wanted to do was go to a musicale with twin tenors from Milan, even though his mother had begged him to attend with her as her escort. He would rather face a Spanish firing squad. But now he had no choice at all.

Did Richard’s derringer really hold two bullets?

18

Corinne lightly tapped her Spanish fan on her son’s arm, careful of the delicate spans, since he had sent it to her the previous Christmas. “You are not being at all obliging, Julian. There is Sophie, and she looks ever so lovely, doesn’t she? All that glorious hair, and her blue eyes, I am reminded of spring when I see her eyes. Yes, a fresh spring day with the heavens practically glowing.”

“So it isn’t raining?”

She tapped him again, a bit harder this time. “Your jest is on the thin side, dearest. I really believe you should save her from her Leah, not a pleasant woman, too much spite and venom. Bethanne told me all about her, but so gently—you know how she was—but I knew what she was really not saying. I’m sure Leah made poor Roxanne’s life a misery whenever she could. I remember Bethanne said once Leah always seemed eager to tear down, never to build up.

“You have five minutes before we are treated to the Milanese twin tenors. Have you met them? Lady Caulcott marched them out a while ago, showing them off to her guests. They speak no English, so all they do is bow when one speaks to them. Would you look at that, there’s Richard Langworth fast approaching Leah and Sophie. I don’t like this, Julian.”

Julian didn’t like it, either. He patted his mother’s hand and managed to reach the women at nearly the same time Richard Langworth did.

“Sophie,” he said, giving her a bow. “Perhaps you would care to have a glass of the wicked champagne punch? To fortify yourself for what is to come?”

She grinned. “I shou

ld prefer champagne, but I see no bubbles in my future. First, Julian, I would like you to meet Roxanne’s sister, my aunt Leah, Lady Merrick. This is Lord Julian Monroe, Lady Merrick. Ah, and Mr. Langworth.”

If Richard noted the sudden coldness in Sophie’s voice, he gave no sign. He watched Leah extend a graceful hand to Julian, watched him bend over her wrist but not kiss it. He watched Sophie Wilkie place her hand on Julian’s arm, to draw him away. Since he wasn’t blind, Richard also saw the banked threat in Julian’s eyes.

He smiled. “My dear,” he said to Leah, “shall we take a stroll around the room before we are bolted to our seats for the musicale?”

She dimpled up at him. “I am so pleased you are here, Richard. I was beginning to wonder—”