CHAPTER 7
JAMES GLANCED DOWN the dining table at Sophie, wishing Miranda had allowed them to be seated together, but it was never done that way at these fancy dinner parties. Husbands and wives were always separated. Sophie, in accordance with her rank, wound up seated beside his cousin, Tynan. He knew Ty would look out for her and subtly assist her through the intricacies of the silverware etiquette and any other frivolity that she had yet to master.
He’d given Sophie the Exmoor pearls to wear and they looked perfect resting against her slender throat. Their luster paled in comparison to the brilliance of her soft smiles, the smiles she cast his way whenever she caught him looking at her.
He did so quite often.
“Grayfell seems to be enjoying your wife’s company,” Bella said, for she’d been seated next to him. His aunt had warned him about the awkward seating arrangements and apologized profusely. At first, he’d thought it was a hoax. But it wasn’t, and he was still quietly seething about the sordid twist of fate that had him placed by Bella’s side.
Miranda should have ignored protocol this time and put him as far away from Bella as possible.
He turned to the arrogant beauty who had once claimed his heart, no longer feeling lesser because of his scars or the fact that she’d rejected his offer of marriage. “Why shouldn’t Grayfell like her? She’s charming and engaging. Everyone enjoys her company.”
“But do you?” Bella obviously believed he was saddled with an unwanted wife, and found his predicament most amusing. “Really, Exmoor. I know you’re making the best of a bad situation, but you needn’t keep up the pretense with me.”
He hadn’t seen Bella since the day he’d proposed and she’d immediately rejected him. The look of horror as she’d gazed at his scarred face was not one he’d soon forget. She’d almost tossed up her morning’s kippers and eggs.
“It isn’t a pretense.” He’d proposed to Bella the moment his regiment – or what remained of it – had landed in England. After receiving her scathing rejection, he’d limped home, determined to hide away and lick his wounds. He didn’t think his heart could ever ache worse. “I got the better part of the bargain.”
He never expected to fall out of love with Bella.
Had he ever loved her? He didn’t think so, but he had been caught up in all she represented; the admiration of the ton elite, the pride in courting an Incomparable, and upon his return from war, the desperate need to regain his former status and pretend he had not come back home damaged.
And he never expected the force of nature that was Sophie to storm into his life. He was counting his blessings, for she lightened his soul. She’d fought to save his leg.
Bella would have done nothing of the sort.
He stared down the table at Sophie again. “Indeed, I’m quite content with my bargain.” He couldn’t begin to explain the impact Sophie had wrought on his life or the joy he now felt whenever she was near. His thoughts drifted to last night and her passionate response when they’d coupled.
He couldn’t wait to have her in his arms again.
She made him feel whole.
“Oh, how sweet.” Bella pursed her lips in disdain. “But who else do you think will accept her? She’s a woman with no connections. No family. No decent clothes. No training to be a countess. Take my advice and hide her somewhere in the countryside. If you keep her in London, she’ll make you a laughingstock.”
The spoonful of leek soup he’d just swallowed burned down his throat. “I’m most grateful for your concern.”
She mistook his sarcasm for appreciation and cast him a condescending nod. “I’m only thinking of what’s best for you, Exmoor.”
And that was another thing he couldn’t stand. Calling each other by their titles, something Bella always did, even during their most private moments. Those had occurred before he’d gone off to battle, before his scars and injured leg. Indeed, they’d shared intimacies for Bella had allowed him to take liberties. But moaning “Exmoor, Exmoor” didn’t have quite the same sensual ring as Sophie’s delicious whispers of his name while in the throes of ecstasy. James. I love you, James.
He couldn’t wait to coax those breathy moans and passionate gasps from her sweet lips again tonight. “You needn’t worry about me, Lady Bella. I’m more than all right.”
“Good, because I know how badly I hurt you.” She discreetly reached under the table and placed a hand on his good thigh. He would have been yelping and leaping out of his chair if she’d touched the other. “I’ve decided to accept the Duke of Bradshaw’s offer of marriage. Perhaps you’ll attend the wedding now that you and I are friends once more.”
Her fingers edged upward– “What are you doing?” He grabbed her hand and jerked it away. “I repulse you. Or have you forgotten?”
Her lips pursed in a practiced pout. “There’s a brutish quality about you with those scars. I will admit that I was quite taken aback at first. Perhaps I was a bit hasty.”
“No, you were right.”
She quirked her head in confusion. “Oh, you mean because of your leg? I understand that Dr. Farthingale is going to save it.”
“He’ll try. It may still have to come off.”
She made no attempt to hide her disgust. “I see. That would be a problem.”
He arched an eyebrow. “A problem for me, but you have nothing to do with my life now. You needn’t concern yourself with how many of my body parts will have to be hacked off.”
The look of revulsion never left her eyes. “Do you mean to say that you might lose more than your leg?”
“Yes. Most definitely.” He was talking about his heart.
The heart that he was quickly losing to Sophie.
He’d been a fool to hold back. What had he hoped for? A torrid affair with Bella? A quiet annulment – hell, too late for that – from his marriage to Sophie? A damn business arrangement that would leave him free to pursue discreet liaisons with any woman who caught his fancy?
Sophie had been in his life only a few days.
He couldn’t imagine his life without her.
“LADY EXMOOR,” TYNAN said, following Sophie’s gaze as she watched yet another exchange between James and Bella, one that was obviously private and intimate, for their bodies were turned toward each other so that the dinner guests seated on the other side of each of them were shut out. “You needn’t be concerned.”
But the pity in his eyes revealed that she ought to be.
“I’m not,” she tried to assure him, however the water gathering in her eyes and threatening to spill onto her cheeks obviously failed to convince him. She set down her fork, the trout floating in a cream sauce having no appeal. “It’s only that… I didn’t realize… she’s so beautiful.”
He shrugged. “She certainly thinks so.”
Sophie laughed despite her dismay. “Don’t you also think so? Obviously, she is.”
“Yes, she’s spectacular.” He shrugged again. “But I doubt there is a man seated at this table who would choose her over you.”
Now she laughed with genuine mirth. “Thank you, Lord Grayfell. You’re an atrocious liar, but it’s most appreciated.”
He glanced down the table once more and then turned to her. “The ladies will retire to my mother’s parlor while we men have our drinks in the study. Bella will use the opportunity to sink her claws into you.” He paused a moment as though to emphasize his point. “She will certainly attempt to insult you, mark my words. You’re not experienced enough to handle her. If she tries anything, don’t respond. Seek out my mother.”
“Are you suggesting that I hide behind your mother’s petticoats?” She frowned. “Am I to let others fight my battles?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “My cousin said you were a Roman general in an earlier life.” He shook his head and laughed. “He appears to be right. However, I still must caution you. Lady Bella isn’t above fighting dirty. She has mastered the art of politely shredding one to ribbons and won’t go easy on you. Have a care. James was once hers and she isn’t quite ready to give him up.”
“I know he loved her.” Perhaps he still did. “But she refused his proposal.”
“She doesn’t want him, mind you. But neither does she want you to have him. Promise me that you’ll let my mother deal with her.”
“And what if Lady Bella insults her?”
“She won’t dare, for my mother’s too powerful. But you’re viewed as weak prey. Have you ever seen a wolf tear apart an innocent lamb? It isn’t pretty.”
Sophie’s heart was firmly lodged in her throat by the time the ladies walked into Lady Miranda’s salon. To her relief, Gabrielle and Lydia quickly came to her side, so the three of them sat together. Still, it wasn’t enough to dissuade Lady Bella. She stood beside the window with her own friends, speaking loud enough to be heard by all in the room. “Exmoor can’t wait to be rid of her. Sad little thing, he told me that he intends to send her packing once his leg heals.”
Sophie breathed a sigh of relief. Was this the worst Bella could do?
Gabrielle patted her arm. “Ignore that witch. I never liked her. I’m glad James is now rid of her. She’s the one he ought to have sent packing years ago.” She kept hold of Sophie’s arm. “James told me what you did for him regarding his leg.”
Sophie blushed. “I did nothing but recommend Dr. Farthingale. We’re hopeful, but there are no assurances.”
Lydia nodded. “Yes, that’s what you’ve brought him. Hope. That gift is priceless.”
Gabrielle heartily agreed.
Bella must have heard them speaking, for there was an undercurrent of menace in her laughter. She started toward them, her minions following at her heels, for Sophie didn’t know what else to call these so-called elegant ladies who trailed after her like sheep. “Exmoor obviously didn’t bother to tell you the rest of it. Poor man, he confided in me that his leg wasn’t the only part of him in danger of being lost.”
Sophie shook her head, momentarily confused. She’d been in his chamber during the doctor’s examination and would have known if something else was going on.
“Oh, you don’t know? Well, I suppose there’s no reason he would confide in you. It’s obvious that you mean nothing to him. Most embarrassing for you.” She turned to her friends, no longer paying Sophie any notice. “He begged me to take him back. I had to put him in his place. After all, I’ve moved on and will soon be married.”
Sophie curled her hands into fists. What utter rot! Perhaps James did care for the beauty and want her back, but he wasn’t the sort ever to beg. He had too much pride. What troubled her was the possibility that he was more badly injured than he’d let on. But why spare her the bad news? And why tell Bella? That made no sense at all.
What had she overlooked about his health? His arms were scarred, but those scars had healed. Hadn’t they?
She rose as the gentlemen joined them and servants began to set out tables for Lady Miranda’s guests to play cards. She didn’t know how to play. Her evenings in York were usually spent writing letters or quietly reading. She hadn’t attended any assemblies since her brother had gone to war, so she didn’t know the latest dances either.
She noticed James walk in, his limp worse than usual. She tried to mask her worry, but she wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings. James immediately noticed that something was wrong. “Did Bella say something to you?”
He frowned and glanced over her shoulder toward where Bella stood.
Sophie nodded and began to wring her hands. “She said your leg wasn’t the only part of your body that you were in danger of losing. Is there something else you haven’t told me? Not that I wish to pry, but… oh, dear. I can’t help fretting. Whatever it is, James, I’ll help you. I wish you’d tell me what it is.”
His expression lightened and he laughed softly. “Don’t worry about me, Sophie. There is something, but I can’t tell you here.”
She nibbled her lip. “Oh, dear. Then it truly is something serious. But why are you smiling?”
His response was cut short when Bella called to him from her seat at one of the card tables. “Exmoor, come make up our fourth for whist. You must partner me or else Lady Miranda and Lord Grayfell shall have no competition. Come, leave your wife and join me.”
“Leave my wife,” he muttered under his breath so that only Sophie heard. “Now that’s a loaded comment, if I ever heard one. What do you think, Sophie? Shall I leave you?” He gave her elbow a little squeeze. “I think not,” he said quietly, arching an eyebrow to convey his amusement. “I’d much rather take our leave so that you may slather that foul poultice on my leg and then allow me to make mad, passionate love to you.”
She shook her head and grinned at him. “How can I resist that tempting offer? But if we are to make love, we ought to do it with clothes pins on our noses.”
He laughed.
“Exmoor!” Bella pushed back her chair so that it made a scraping sound against the polished wood floor as she stood up with marked annoyance. She looked quite determined, drumming her fingers on the card table and glowering at him. “You’re delaying the game. Leave your wife and join me.”
He led Sophie to where Bella stood with her chin proudly tilted upward. Tynan was already on his feet as they approached. His gaze swept from James to Bella and finally rested on Sophie.
He appeared poised for battle.
Goodness, she didn’t need Grayfell, as well meaning as his intentions were, to intercede on her behalf. The fewer parties involved the better, for she had no wish for this dinner party to descend into a brawl.
To everyone’s surprise, James ignored Bella and turned to his aunt. “Miranda, forgive me. Lady Exmoor and I must take our leave. It’s been a long day for both of us.”
Bella was having none of it. “How noble of you, Exmoor. But you needn’t keep up the pretense among friends. We all know why you married her. We all know that she came to you with nothing. No clothes, not a shilling to her name. No family.”
His expression darkened. “Enough, Bella. You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“Me?” She tossed back her perfect golden curls and sneered. “You’re the fool, believing I’d ever have you.” She turned to Sophie. “He only married you because I refused him.”
Sophie nodded. “I’m well aware and am most grateful for your bad judgement.”
Bella gasped. “Exmoor, will you allow your wife to speak to me that way?”
“The more pertinent question is, will I allow you ever to mock my wife or treat her with less than utmost respect? The answer to that is no.” He made no attempt to mask his anger, and Sophie wasn’t certain whether she ought to be cheering or trying to stop him before he lost all his friends.
It was one thing for her to be snubbed, but she didn’t wish to be the cause of his banishment from Society. He ignored the gasps and glares he was receiving from Bella’s minions and continued. “As for that rubbish about shipping Sophie out of London, rest assured, it is utter nonsense and will never happen.”
He now turned to Sophie, his expression blatantly tender and loving. “I’m honored to have you as my wife and want nothing better than to keep you by my side for always.”
Sophie placed her hand lightly on his forearm. “I shall be. Always.” She hoped her smile in response conveyed the depth of her love for him.
Bella emitted a sound from her lips that sounded remarkably like a hiss. “We’ll see how long she’ll stay around when your next limb is hacked off. There’ll be little of you left to love.”
Had she a battle axe, Sophie would have cleaved the wretched woman in half. But she was more distressed about James’ other injuries. How could she have forgotten about them? She squeezed his arm to assure him that she would keep to her word. “You know it isn’t so. I’ll love you no matter what happens. A limb does not define you. It’s only the heart that matters. You have my heart and will always have it.”
He covered her hand with his. “I know, my love.”
Her eyes rounded in surprise and she gaped at him. My love? Of course, he must have said it for show. He couldn’t possibly mean… goodness, he was looking at her as though he did mean precisely those words.
“Lady Exmoor,” he said with a devilish grin. “My lady. My love. Since Lady Bella has so thoughtfully raised the matter of the body part I am next in danger of losing, I may as well tell you what it is.” He turned to face the other guests, all of whom were now buzzing around them, but they immediately quieted and fell silent in expectation of his next words. “I may as well tell all of you, for I won’t be able to keep it a secret much longer.”
Sophie felt bereft. Tears welled in her eyes. Was he dying and had wanted to keep the news even from her?
He tucked a finger under her chin and tilted her face upward to kiss her lightly on the lips. Kissing one’s wife at a fashionable party? Was such a thing ever done? She meant to speak up, but his expression stilled her words. “It is my heart, Sophie.”
“Your heart is failing?” She couldn’t bear it. “What did Dr. Farthingale tell you? How long do you have to live?”
He laughed softly. “No, you misunderstand. It isn’t failing. I’ll live another fifty years, I hope. It is my heart that I’m losing… to you. That fragile organ was crushed by time and circumstances until you came along and revived it.” He kissed her again, this time with a deep and abiding reverence. “I love you.”
How was a countess to behave when the man she loved to the depths of her soul apparently loved her back? She grabbed him by the lapels and raised on tiptoes to kiss him back in a fervent and thoroughly inappropriate manner. “You’re still crying,” he said, noticing the tears on her cheeks which were impossible to overlook.
“Happy tears.”
“I do love you, Sophie.” He wasted no time in taking her home and showing her just how much.
He showed her through the night.
He showed her before she rubbed the poultice on his leg and afterward.
“James,” she said, waking at the break of dawn to find herself alone in her large bed, the crumpled sheet and lingering warmth being the only trace that James had been beside her. She sat up and glanced around, surprised to find him standing by the window, gazing outward into the garden.
He’d drawn back the drapes so that rays of sunlight filtered into her bedchamber and brightened it. He stood there in his God-given beauty, wrapped in golden sunlight, as she walked to his side.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” He drew her up against his warm body so that her back nestled against his chest. “I used to watch the sun come up every morning while I was on the Continent. The sunrise was significant, for it meant I’d survived another day of battle. I would tilt my head upward to absorb its warmth. I would squint my eyes to gaze at the golden ball of fire peeking over the mountaintops and casting light on dark times.”
She nodded. “It’s beautiful.”
He bent and kissed her gently on her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I should have declined the invitation.”
“No. Your aunt had it planned for months before I ever met you. I’m glad we went. I think you needed to clear your mind of Bella. Declaring that you loved me was a little drastic, but I rather liked it. I know it will take time for you to truly feel that way.”
“You’re wrong, Sophie. I meant it. But simply saying those three words – I love you – doesn’t quite convey how I feel. That’s what I was doing just now, thinking about you and what to say to you in order to make you believe me.”
She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “It doesn’t matter, James. I’m happy. Truly, I am.” Content as a kitten lapping up cream, she closed her eyes and listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart.
They stood together in silence for a long moment until James began to speak, his voice husky and laden with emotion. “I hope I’ve found the right words now.”
Sophie held her breath as she turned to him, for she didn’t know what to expect, only that it would be something special and more wonderful than anything she’d ever imagined possible.
He rubbed his hands along her cool skin when she shivered against the cold air wafting in from the window, and then he gently ran his fingers through her unbound hair. “Your hair is like silk, quite befitting a goddess of the dawn.”
She laughed. “You’re mistaken, my lord. I’m no goddess, merely a purveyor of poultices.”
“You’re a healer of damaged hearts.” He cast her a breathtaking smile. “I knew you were special the moment I set eyes on you, but didn’t dare believe it. We’re married less than a week. Your new gowns aren’t even ready yet.” He kissed her where they stood, bathed in sunlight. “But I’ve fallen in love with you. Not just in love. In everything with you. I’m in happiness. I’m in hopefulness. I’m in lust with you. Most of all, I awoke beside you and felt in peace for the first time in years.”
“Oh, James.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “That’s a lovely thing to say.”
“It still isn’t enough. You’re all that’s important to me. You’re my sunrise, Sophie. You’re my morning light. So that’s what I shall call you from now on. Sophie, goddess of the morning light. That’s what you are. My Sophie. My salvation.”
THE END