“What?” She turned and eyed him as if she thought him suddenly off-kilter.
“Do you still ride?” Changing the subject and catching her off guard was the only thing he knew to do. As best as he could remember, all those years ago, she had loved riding and excelled at it.
“I do.” She flicked a quick look at the rain-streaked window. “Weather permitting, of course. Why?”
“I remember you always seemed happiest whenever you were riding.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “It was also when you were the least annoying.”
“I can still be annoying, if necessary,” she warned.
“Of that, I have no doubt.” He settled deeper into the chair and patted the armrests. “Quite solid, thank goodness. Just as you said.” That won him a smile from her—a genuine smile.
Thornton entered the room. The stoic man appeared decidedly unhappy as he hurried to Sophie’s side and held out a small silver tray bearing a note. “Forgive me, my lady. Another has arrived.”
“Another what?” Nash rose from his chair.
“Are you certain it is from them?” she asked the butler while staring at the small letter as if it were about to burst into flames. She clutched her fists to her breasts as though determined not to touch it.
“The same postage was required to accept it, and the handwriting appears much the same as the others.” He stood there, partially bent and holding out the tray, waiting for her to pick it up. “Would you prefer Sir Nash examined it?”
“Most definitely,” she whispered. “I fear this day has drained me of all courage and determination. Forgive me.”
Nash snatched up the letter. “Thank you, Thornton. By the way, Lady Sophie and I would like to dine in here, since it will just be the two of us this evening. It is my understanding that Lady Rydleshire intends to dine in her rooms.”
“Yes, Sir Nash. I shall see to everything personally.” The butler bowed and hurried out, closing the set of double doors behind him.
Sophie rose and stood beside him, peering down at the note in his hands. “Thornton was correct. The handwriting is the same. Well, go on, then. Open it.”
Opening the intricately folded paper that was tucked into itself, Nash clenched his teeth as the single sentence jumped out at him. “I know your plan, and it will fail.”
At Sophie’s strangled gasp, he caught her to his side and supported her. “Let me help you to the settee.”
“I…I am all right.” But she clung to his jacket as he led her to a nearby small sofa and settled onto it with her. She didn’t release her grip on his coat, just thumped her fist against him. “How can they possibly know? Is it someone in our household? Someone close to the queen?”
“The queen requested the special license, which would require both our names. But those outsiders would not know about the Rydleshire title or what she planned regarding that.”He silently listed everyone who might be privy to the queen’s intentions.
“Servants hear everything,” she whispered.
He refolded the letter. “Yes, they do. But to travel to a post office fifty miles away and make it back here without their absence being noticed would be quite the feat.”
“And we only found out today what we were expected to do. How could the blackmailer discover everything so quickly?” She not only popped every finger but also cracked the knuckles of her thumbs.
If the situation weren’t so dire, he would have playfully scolded her. Instead, he ignored her nervous habit. “It has to be someone in the queen’s household,” he said. “There is no other answer.”
Chapter Five
Sophie set thequill aside and stared down at her signature on the parish registry that the queen had so astutely commanded the clergyman to bring along. It was done. She turned away, the vows she had just taken still ringing in her ears.
Thank heavens Nash had held her unconventionally close during the ceremony, or she would have surely swayed off balance and toppled over in a dead swoon. She swallowed hard. That thought shamed her. A swoon. Indeed. She, who feared nothing, succumbing to such a ridiculous spell of weakness. She was tempted to snort at the very idea, but didn’t dare, since Maman and the queen stood close enough to hear. But in all fairness, she had every right to faint if she so wished it. Not only was she now married to the man she had once loved beyond all imagining, but someone in this very room might be the blackmailer threatening them all. How had her carefully orchestrated life spun out of control so quickly?
“You are even lovelier today than you were yesterday. How is that possible, my swan?” Nash’s warm breath tickled across her bare shoulder. His tender kisses along her nape sent a series of shivers rippling through her. “You need to breathe,” he whispered, “or I shall be forced to sweep you up into my arms to prevent you from injuring yourself when you wilt to the floor.”
“I am fine,” she muttered. Her maid had tied her corset so tightly that her breasts nearly touched her chin. If he dared liftor jostle her, she would surely spill over the top of her gown. The revealing creation in her favorite shade of violet was shot through with silver threadwork that formed lilies, vines, and an abundance of delicate foliage. Tiny pearls encrusted the lace around the neckline that exposed her shoulders. The same stiff, pearly lace created the band around the empire waistline and hemmed the short, puffy sleeves.
She should not have chosen this garment from her wardrobe of finery that was worn to only the most formal of occasions. The abundance of lace stiffened with pearls and silver threadwork tickled and scratched as if she’d fallen into a thicket of nettles. She subtly rolled her shoulders, trying to soothe her poor, itching flesh with a surreptitious wriggle. The uncomfortable gown also weighed as much as a small pony, and she couldn’t draw in a deep breath to save her soul because of the tightness of her infernal stays. The physical discomfort only worsened the disquieting uneasiness that she was now married to a man who had never wanted her.
“Sophie?” He lightly kissed her shoulder again.
“Stop distracting me!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I am trying to espy the blackmailer.” She partially turned and shot him a glare she hoped he would take to heart. “As you should be doing, my dear husband. Remember Maman’s training?”
