Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)
Page 36
Rupert said, “If you wish.”
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Dinner, Sophie thought later that night when she lay in bed next to a sleeping Roxanne, was a meal she would as soon forget. Richard had watched her closely, as if trying to see if there were any spots on her face. Then he watched Roxanne. He scared her to her toes. Does he think Julian will wed one of us? And he wants to know where to focus his vengeance?
There was a light knock on the door.
There was no answer. Slowly, the door opened. Sophie felt her heart drop to her feet.
“Who is there?”
“It is I, Sophie, Corinne. I could not sleep. I do not like my bedchamber, and so I came to beg a place in your bed. I asked Barbie to sleep in my bedchamber—a strange house, you know—but alas, I quickly discovered she snores. Oh, you and Roxanne are sleeping together? How did this come about?”
“I couldn’t sleep, either. I am like you, uncomfortable in a strange house. The bed is very large. The three of us will fit nicely.” Sophie lightly shoved Roxanne over to make room for the Dowager Duchess of Brabante. Sleeping next to a duchess, it boggled the mind. Her father had accused her of being too proud. Well, if he knew she shared her bed with a duchess, his eyes would surely goggle and he would change his opinion. Perhaps. Perhaps not.
When Corinne slipped in beside her, pulling the soft covers to her chin, she whispered, “Thank you. I tell you the truth, Sophie. I was lying there in that mammoth bed, all snugged in, listening to Barbie snore, when I heard something move near the windows. You know my chamber faces the front of the house, and there was a half-moon shining directly in, but I saw nothing. After I settled again, I swear to you I heard a rustling noise. I nearly choked dead with fear. Barbie never stirred, even when I bounded off the bed and thankfully remembered this was Roxanne’s room.”
Corinne moved closer and whispered, “I know someone was in my bedchamber, besides snoring Barbie. It wasn’t my imagination, and it wasn’t a dream, for I hadn’t slept yet.”
Not likely, Sophie thought, but whispered back, her voice soothing, “The three of us should be safe together, ma’am. It must be odd, being Baron Purley, knowing his son blames Julian for Lily’s death. Do you think the baron still blames him?”
“I don’t know, this evening he didn’t seem to. However, Rupert was always shifty; one simply never knew what was behind his eyes. Rupert was what I called a worshipper, had been since he’d been only a boy. I was told he would have followed Julian’s father about like a puppy if Maximilian had allowed it, even after Rupert became Baron Purley, even after he wedded and his wife birthed a son—namely, Richard.
“My husband believed Rupert was enamored of me, which is ridiculous, let me tell you. No, it was always Maximilian who drew Rupert to him, like that proverbial moth. He had no interest in me, no, indeed, Rupert did not care a fig about me, never did, still doesn’t. But he wanted what was best for Maximilian’s son, and so he helped me to get through the endless chores that surround one when a husband dies.”
“I wondered why the duke spent more time at Ravenscar than at Mount Burney.”
“Ravenscar, he told me once, was in the very marrow of his bones. It was deep in his heart and brain.”
“Why do you think the baron was so drawn to the duke?”
“I don’t know why Rupert loved my husband. Like a father? I don’t know. It was so long ago, I was so young, and he was dead only a year and a half after I’d met him in London at my coming-out ball. It was given by my great-aunt, since my parents hadn’t a sou. But with the dowry the duke gave them to marry me, they died happy, I can tell you that. Well, I suppose my cousins—their heirs—were even happier.”
Sophie sighed in the darkness. She felt Roxanne warm and unmoving on her right, Corinne on her left. She realized she felt safe. She admitted it, she was afraid of Richard Langworth and the violence in his eyes, the sneer marring his mouth, and afraid of this house, where there were too many shadows. As for the baron, he’d been nothing but charming and kind to her and Roxanne. Was he sincere in his wish to end the strife? Sophie listened to the other women’s steady breathing, and closed her eyes.
Roxanne rose straight up in bed and said in a chatty voice, “How I wish Devlin could have come with us. Mayhap he’ll finish that dratted business his father asked him to deal with and come to us today. He would suck Richard’s blood and the bounder would fall over dead, all white and empty.” She fell back again, sound asleep.
Had someone been in Corinne’s bedchamber? Sophie wondered. Should she tell Julian about it? She was on the point of crawling over Corinne to go to Julian’s bedchamber, when she pictured Julian sleeping, sprawled on his back, not a stitch of clothing covering him. That brought a lovely hazy image to her mind, and she stilled, and wondered what it would be like if she—if she what? Leapt on top of him, kissed him silly, and then what? She would certainly like the answer to that question. She forced herself onto her back and stared up at the black ceiling for a good five minutes before she fell asleep.
Three bedchambers down the corridor, Julian dreamed he’d found his wife wildly kissing another man. He couldn’t see the man’s face in his dreams any more than he’d seen the man’s face then, in the Hardcross gardens that horrendous day three years ago. Had there even been a man?
24
Sir, may I ask you something?”
Baron Purley looked up from his letter to see Sophie Wilkie standing in the library doorway. Lovely, he thought, and felt a brief stab of envy—for Julian? He smiled at her as he rose. “Come in, Miss Wilkie. It is quite early. Have you breakfasted yet?”
“Yes, my lord. Your cook has a fine way with baked eggs.”
“It is her specialty. I trust you slept well?”
She thought of Corinne and Roxanne, both turned against her sometime during the night, and when she’d awakened, she was so stiff she creaked when she’d crawled over a still-sleeping Roxanne. “Perfectly, thank you.”
“Please sit down, Miss Wilkie.”
When he faced her across his desk, he said, “How may I help you?”
“I would like to know what you believed really happened the day Lily was killed.”