“I shall get rid of the ants again as soon as we get your chemise sorted.”
Whatever he wished. She didn’t bother opening her eyes again, just allowed herself to float along on the deep voice that seemed so familiar. “You have the nicest voice. Do I know you, sir?”
“No, my lady. You do not know me at all, but I swear, as I live and breathe, that you someday will.”
Chapter Eight
Nash sat inthe chair beside the bed with his head in his hands. At least now he knew how she truly felt about him. But that precious truth was a double-edged sword. Thankfully, she loved him. Unfortunately, she would never admit it unless drugged, because she was so sure he would eventually cast her aside, or break her heart in some other manner. Her girlhood feelings had not been the stuff of childish infatuation. When his wonderful Sophie loved, she loved with all her being. And the more he was around her, the more he needed her to love him without fear because, against all good judgment and no small amount of fear of his own, he was most assuredly falling just as deeply in love with her.
He lifted his head at the sound of the bedroom door opening. “Lady Rydleshire,” he said, keeping his voice low as he pushed himself to his feet. “She seems to be resting peacefully at last.”
The dowager countess didn’t acknowledge his presence with even so much as a glance. She moved to the other side of the bed and stared down at her daughter with something akin to sheer terror. Ever so gently, she straightened the already straight covers, brushed an errant curl away from Sophie’s temple, then gently kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Praise the Almighty,” she whispered. “No sign of fever yet.”
“She is the strongest woman I have ever met. Even with the pain making her ill, she kept saying she was fine and merely needed time to gather herself.”
“Gather herself,” the countess repeated with a soft, sad laugh. “My beloved girl has never beengathereda day in her life. That is but one of the many things I love about her. Her spontaneity. Her stubbornness. I have often wondered how she can be both graceful and yet awkward as a newborn lamb at the same time.” A pained sigh left her as she pulled her gaze from Sophie and leveled it on him. “I will not rest until I have the head of the individual who did this to her. No one harms my child and lives.”
“I swear I will find who did this—and with your consent, I shall enlist the help of an old friend of mine. Actually, I consider him more brother than friend. He is a Bow Street Runner. One of their finest. I trust him completely, and he is the epitome of discretion.”
The dowager eyed him as if doubting his word. Or perhaps it was something else, something in the way she held herself, as if waiting to be attacked. He found the way she looked at him rather disturbing. Her expression was indecipherable. “What is it, my lady? Is there something more?”
She looked away as if no longer comfortable meeting his gaze. “Forgive me, young Bromley. I am not myself this evening.” Once again, she leaned over Sophie and lightly touched her daughter’s abundance of curls splayed across the pillow. “I will sit with my darling child while you examine the garden and the perimeter of the street side of the wall. Find out how they accomplished this.” She spared him another glance. “And by all means, have your friend help us—if you are certain he can be trusted.”
“I do not feel comfortable leaving Sophie, my lady.”
The dowager rounded the bed with a quickness that bespoke of rage simmering just beneath the surface. “I am her motherand would never harm her.” Her furious scowl threatened to reduce him to ash.
He backed up a step, lifting his hands in confused surrender. “No, my lady. That was not my meaning at all. Please do not think such.” The lady had to realize Sophie’s feelings about him, all the reservations her daughter harbored. The two shared such a closeness. How could she not know of Sophie’s fears? He turned and gently touched his sleeping wife’s cheek, then bent and pressed a kiss to it. “I fear if she awakens, and I am not here, she will think even worse of me than she already does.”
His mother-in-law bowed her head and pressed a hand to her heart. “I must beg your forgiveness, Bromley. As I said, I am not myself after this evening’s events.” She reached out and gave his arm a gentle pat. “I know her fears. Unfortunately, my Sophie shares my greatest fault. She never forgets anything that hurts her. Try to be patient with her. All you can do is show her you are no longer that unlicked cub determined to bed every young beauty he meets. She will eventually come to see you as the honorable man you have become.”
“I hate it when I see the past in her eyes.”
“Then you must do everything possible to keep her anchored here in the present.” She pointed at him, reminding him of how she used to give pertinent instructions during training. “No flummery. She has little patience for overt flattery.”
“Yes. I am well aware of that.” He would not go into detail how he had already erred on that front.
She smiled down at her sleeping daughter, then turned back to him. “Her laudanum rest seems quite deep. But she’ll not stay that way long. She never does. Please have a look at the garden and the outer wall. Your eyes are trained far better than those who have already looked over the area.”
“As you wish, my lady.” He turned back and kissed Sophie again, lingering for a moment with his lips pressed to thecoolness of her forehead and willing her to find the courage to trust him. “I shan’t be long from your side, my swan,” he whispered. “Rest easy.”
He bounded out the door without looking back. If he looked back, he would not be able to leave her. Fear that she would awaken without him would overcome his control and paralyze him. He rushed down the stairs and found himself unable to go any farther without knocking the Duchess of Hasterton, Sophie’s friend Celia, out of the way.
“I simply would not leave without speaking to you first,” she said as she snagged hold of his jacket and tugged him over to one side of the hall. “Thank goodness you finally came down. Elias and I really should get home to little Oliver soon. He has been quite fractious with Nanny of late.”
“What can I do for you, Your Grace?” He itched to examine the outside wall as expeditiously as possible to get back to Sophie before she awakened.
The duchess stared up at him, frowning as if not quite able to settle on how to broach the subject she wished to discuss.
He expelled an impatient huff, not giving a damn if he appeared rude or not. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I am not comfortable leaving Sophie’s bedside for any length of time. I am merely headed to examine the grounds at the behest of her mother. Might you get to what you wish to discuss? Please?”
The lady’s eyes flashed. “As you wish, Sir Nash.” She resettled her grip on her closed fan as though preparing to smack him with it. “If you hurt my beloved sister again, you will regret the day you were born. We of the Sisterhood take care of each other, and you will not only have me to answer to but also the Duchess of Lionwraith. Andshethreatened to shoot her husband on their first meeting, so do not mistake her for a helpless female who will tolerate the mistreatment of a dear friend.” Her scowl hardened even more. “And do not underestimate Sophie ormyself. We lead. We do not follow. Nor do we meekly retire to our parlors and bemoan unfortunate circumstances brought on by the carelessness of men. We take action. Am I quite clear, Sir Nash?”
“Madam…” Nash paused, fighting his temper and the urge to use words not appropriate for a lady. “I understand you and Sophie are quite close. Close as sisters, even. But I refuse to stand here and discuss my relationship with my wife. To put it as plainly as possible, Your Grace, it is none of your affair.”
Rather than fly into a petulant rage and storm away as he had expected, the duchess became dangerously calm. Her icy demeanor grew even colder as her chin jutted higher. “So you like to speak plainly, do you? Fine. I hereby put you on notice, Sir Nash. You have just declared war against a force you will never defeat—sisters who care for one another.” She spun and gave him her back, then marched down the hall while calling out to her husband, “Elias, darling. I am ready to leave now.”
“Sisterhood,” he repeated under his breath, then shook off the frustrating encounter and stormed out the front door. He would think about the duchess’s threats and her mysterioussisterhoodlater. For now, he had to investigate the garden so he could get back to Sophie.
