Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You jest, Sir, and it’s a damned poor one. Tell him, Sophia.”
She stared at Kit, stunned by his declaration. His mercurial hazel eyes had turned green and they bore into her soul. She had a choice. The same one she faced on their wedding day. She could deny him now and live life as she had always done – neglected and alone – or she could stand with the man who taught her life could be so much more if she had the courage.
For a moment, there was no one else in the room but Kit. With his eyes still on her, Sophia removed the chain from her neck and retrieved the ring he had given her and placed it on the third finger of her left hand. She stood.
“I thought you said we were going to do this properly,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been a few minutes ago. She ignored Samuel’s red face and allowed Kit to take her still shaking hand and draw her to his side.
“That changed the minute I learned the accident outside was deliberate.”
“What?” Sophia heard the question echoed and saw Samuel wear the same incredulous look as the one she imagined she wore.
“It’s true,” Elias answered as he entered the room. He addressed Kit. “I just spoke to the carter. Someone deliberately spooked the horse.”
Samuel openly scoffed. “Deliberately spooked? That’s a whole lot of melodrama. I expected more of you, Sophia. The sheik told me of Hardacre’s obsession with his people. The man’s unhinged.”
Kit sized him up. “Then you’re a bigger fool than I already take you for—”
“Kit, please,” Sophia warned under her breath. He seemed to take heed because he heaved in a large breath, and his next words were calm.
“If you have any brains, Cappleman, you will pack your bags this afternoon and book passage for yourself and your sister for the earliest possible departure. Selim Omar is not a man to be trifled with.”
“You expect me to take your word over that of royalty? My family and I are not going to be ordered about by a common sailor. Come along, Laura. Sophia. We’ve spent enough time with this madman.”
Sophia turned to an ashen-faced Laura who seemed near to tears. Sophia withdrew her hand from Kit and moved towards her cousins. A look of betrayal flared momentarily in Kit’s eyes and broke her heart. She reached out to him and, though she thought he flinched, she touched his cheek, and the heat of it warmed her to the core.
“I have to go now,” she whispered, “but come for me this afternoon.”
Sophia willed him to understand. She needed time to explain to her cousins. She owed them that. They had been so good to her, the only family she had ever known. When she left them today, she wanted to go with their blessing.
Kit took the hand from his cheek and kissed it, and gave a curt nod.
“This afternoon.”
It was a vow.
*
“You knew about this squalid affair and you didn’t bother to tell me?”
Laura burst into tears at her brother’s censure and fled into her suite at the Hotel de France, slamming the door behind her.
Samuel’s anger stoked Sophia’s. “There’s no need to yell at your sister. She knew nothing of this until yesterday and even then I hadn’t told her about—”
“Being married? Come on, Sophia, tell me that’s some kind of sick joke.”
Sophia heard the sound of footsteps down the corridor. “Shhh, Samuel, you’re making a scene.”
“Then we’ll go somewhere more private to talk.” Sophia found her wrist in Samuel’s grip.
He opened the door to his suite and pulled her through. Slamming doors was fast becoming a Cappleman trait. She’d never seen him act this way before, her mild-mannered cousin who showed passion for very little except for his engineering business. He strode to a table and poured himself a large measure of brandy which he swallowed in one gulp.
“You!” he said. “You of all people, to behave like a… a…”
A slattern, a slut, a whore, a wanton. The words were unsaid, but Sophia had known Samuel too well and for too long to not finish his thoughts. He shook his head as though to clear the taint of them and poured another drink.
“I entrust you with Laura’s well-being and this is how you repay me?”
She stepped forward. “That’s not fair. You readily agreed removing Laura from that scoundrel in London was for the best and, now, when you are given sound advice about another situation she’s gotten into, you react like I’ve done you an injury.”
“Haven’t you?” he sneered, “When were you going to reveal your marriage, or is this some little carte blanche arrangement you have with the captain, where he charms you into spreading—”
She slapped him across the cheek. Not as hard as he deserved but, still, her right hand stung from it. Samuel touched the brandy glass to his cheek, seeking to soothe it while he swept the hair that fell over his brow with the other.
“You have no right to reproach me. I am of age and not a dependent of yours. My only regret is you had to find out about Kit and me this way. I had planned to accompany you and Laura back to England for your wedding at least, and have you both pleased for me that…”
Her throat closed over, the sentence unfinished. The words she wanted to speak were raw. Her life had centered on Samuel for so long. Kit’s interest had caught her by surprise. He made her feel beautiful, desired. But more than that, he saw her. He never looked through her as Samuel so frequently did. Kit loved her. He loved her. And now, she could accept it, trust in it, fall into it, knowing he would be there to catch her.
Samuel drained his drink once more and poured another.
“This is a hell of a stunt to attract my attention. I know you love me.”
His words were calmly spoken and, for a moment, Sophia wondered if she had misheard. She steadied herself with a hand on the back of a chair.
“That’s a low act, Samuel.” Cold anger flooded through her. When she spoke her Spanish accent became more pronounced. “You… you… you play on my long-held affection for you and, now, when I take a chance to pursue my own happiness, you think all you have to say is three little words and I’ll come to heel?”
“What do you want me to tell you, Sophia?” He thumped the brandy glass on the table with a thud, amber-colored liquid sloshed over the rim. Samuel flicked his wrist to rid it of the spilled liquor. “That I want you? That I need you in my life? I love you? Is that what it will take?”
“You never once gave me cause to hope. For years, I waited for you to notice me and all the things I did for you.” Sophia realized she was yelling. She took in a deep breath and lowered her voice. “You’re engaged to be married.”
“It doesn’t have to change things.”
She blinked rapidly. Samuel took advantage of her confusion. He snagged her arm and led her to a settee.
“Sophia, look at me.”
She did, and before her was the face she treasured in her dreams – handsome and sweet. A beloved fantasy. But now, the only emotion it aroused in her was fury. “You are my right hand. I acknowledge that, although I’ve done a poor job in showing my appreciation or thinking about your future.”
Sophia shook her head; words were beyond her. The room was becoming claustrophobic. She’d opened a window to disappointment. Even the breeze had abandoned her. Sophia kept her attention out on to the street.
“Lady Victoria will need help running the household.” Samuel’s voice was close. He stood just behind her. Sophia turned to him as he continued. “She’s young and has no experience. My plan was to ask you to live with us after Laura’s wedding.” Samuel picked up both her hands and held them. “Knowing now how you feel about me changes things, so, ah, would you consent to a different arrangement?”
Sophia frowned, recalling what he had said last night when he made a pass at her at the door.
“You want me to be your mistress?”
She started to pull her hands away, but Samuel held them fast. He leaned forward, pressing her against the wall and kissed her furiously on her lips, her face, her hair.
“Stop!” Sophia added urgency to the word with a swift kick to his shins. She used his surprise to shove him away. Sophia retreated a safe distance, close to the door and scrubbed her lips free of the taste of him. She warily watched Samuel pull himself together.
“You accuse me of being a sailor’s doxy when you offer no better yourself? You shame yourself as well as me. As irregular though it is, Kit and I are legally married. He also loves me.”
Samuel slumped back on to the couch and made no move to approach her. “And what of you, Cousin?” he asked, his voice cold. “Just two months ago, you would have professed your love to me in a heartbeat. Perhaps I am not the only one who is fickle.”
Sophia found the brass doorknob, cool and solid, under her hand.
“This conversation is too little, too late, Samuel.”
Finally, the man stood, his face red. “You ungrateful sow.”
Sophia ignored the insult and took a deep breath. “Goodbye. I’ll see Laura before I leave and arrange for my luggage to be collected.”
She shut the door behind her knowing it was not the only one to close this day.