Tainted Bride

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Tainted Bride Page 19

by A. S. Fenichel


  “Do you want children?” she blurted without looking at him.

  A smile pulled at his lips. Relief flooded him. She worried about the most amazing things, his little American. “Look at me.”

  She did.

  “What brought this on?”

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “I’ll tell you when you tell me what brought you to such worry over the subject.”

  She stood suddenly.

  He grabbed the arm of the chair to steady his perch or be knocked over.

  She paced. “I was speaking to cook. She told me about your mother passing after you were born and I realized we had never discussed them. I really don’t know you that well and I do love children. I only have one brother and he is often reticent. I became worried you would not want children, but I thought if I pleased you it might be possible to talk you into more than just an heir and so I planned all of this.”

  He leaned back against the desk. “Do you breathe at all when you ramble like that? I’m very fond of children. I have never given the idea of having them much thought beyond the necessity for an heir. However, I should think as long as your trouble in giving birth to the first was not life threatening, then we could possibly have a few more, if you wish it.”

  She smiled and jumped around the room until she found him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. Her wine was forgotten across the room and his now spilled on the rug. “I’m so glad.”

  He steadied his breath and controlled his emotions. She bewitched him. “I can see that you are. But I’ll not tolerate you taking unnecessary risk, Sophia. One child first and then we shall see.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Her smile remained enthusiastic.

  Chapter 16

  On the tenth day of their honeymoon, Daniel read a missive and then came to break his fast. “I have to leave you again today, Sophie. I have a meeting.”

  “Here in the country?”

  “It’s important. I shall leave after luncheon.”

  She nodded.

  An hour later, they were in the garden enjoying one of the last fine days of summer, when Jasper, Sophia’s footman, delivered a message to his lady. She opened it, paled, and the paper fell from her hands.

  Daniel picked it up from the grass. Lady Collington wrote that Mr. Braighton had been struck down by an episode and the doctors suspect apoplexy. Heart pounding, Daniel called out to the retreating footman. “Have her ladyship’s maid pack her trunks as quickly as possible and call for a carriage to be brought around. You will go with your lady, of course.”

  Jasper started for the house, but stopped. “My lord, what is amiss?”

  Daniel was not accustomed to servants who asked questions, but he accepted that this footman was not English. Besides, the man was concerned for Sophia. “Mr. Braighton is gravely ill.”

  The footman’s eyes widened and he ran.

  “Sophia, look at me.”

  She looked up with vacant eyes.

  “I cannot go with you today. I have to attend to some important business. I’ll follow in a few days. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  * * * *

  Gloom settled over Collington House. Wells opened the door, but said nothing as he took Sophia’s hat and coat. She moved passed him into the parlor.

  Angelica’s eyes were red and swollen. Sophia tried to remember ever seeing her mother cry before and only the night when Pundington had raped her came to mind.

  “How is he?” She hugged her.

  “The doctor was just here.”

  “What did he say?”

  Angelica’s eyes were so sad and lost Sophia looked at the ceiling or the floor, anywhere but at her mother.

  “Your father was asking for you two nights ago. He was a bit confused and then he stumbled and fell. He has not woken since then. I talk to him, but he does not hear me.”

  She hugged her again. “Go lay down, Mamma. You’re tired. I’ll go and see papa.”

  The sick room was dark and stuffy. Aunt Daphne sat beside her nephew. Sophia thought for the first time Daphne looked small and old.

  “Hello, Aunt.”

  Daphne stood with the help of the tall bedpost. “How are you, dear?”

  “Fine.”

  Daphne looked toward the door. “Is Marlton here?”

  “No, his lordship had business that could not wait.” She didn’t recognize the cool tone of her voice.

  “I see.”

  “How is my father?”

  Daphne shook her head and hugged her. It was the first time Aunt Daphne had initiated affection. “I’ll not lie to you, Sophia. The doctor does not hold out much hope. We must pray for a miracle.”

  Sophia nodded and sat in the chair Daphne vacated. The left side of Charles Braighton’s face drooped and his skin was tinged sickly gray. His normally robust presence diminished. The large bed made him look small and insignificant. This man, who had been her whole world for most of her life, reduced to nothing in a sickbed.

  “I’ll have a light meal sent up. You must eat something.” Daphne left.

  Sophia hadn’t realized Daphne was still in the room. Her stomach knotted at the idea of food. When she entered the room the scared little girl of years past pushed past the adult. When she was young, Anthony went away to school and she was often by herself. She was lonely then and she felt the same sense of desertion sitting in the darkened sick room. She reached beneath the blanket and took his hand. “So cold.” She tried to rub the warmth back into him.

  “Papa, please wake up now.” Holding his hand in both of hers, she leaned her forehead on top of their clasped fingers and prayed. She was still in that position when a maid delivered a tray of food. And hours later when Angelica returned to the room in a fresh dress and looking a bit more rested. Sophia still held papa’s hand and prayed while the food had gone untouched.

  “Sophia, it is late. Go to bed. I’ll sit with him through the night,” Angelica said.

  “I would like to stay, Mamma.”

  Angelica walked around the bed and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Give me a few hours alone with him, cuore mio.”

  Reluctantly, Sophia left the room and found her bed.

  When sleep claimed her, so did her nightmares. She hadn’t experienced the terrifying dreams since before her wedding. She’d thought her husband chased her fears away. Not so.

  When the terror woke her, the sun was already seeping around the heavily draped bed. She went to the washbowl and splashed cold water on her face.

  The dream had always been a recollection of the horrors of the night that changed her life forever, but this time the visions were distorted. The beating was the same, the pain and the realization that someone she trusted would hurt her were still present. When she turned her face up to see his, it was a twisted version of Daniel glowering back at her.

  She shook away the ghosts of her nightmare, washed and dressed.

  Charles’s room was dark and only the man who had comforted her when she was sad and encouraged her throughout her childhood, lay alone in the bed.

  She wanted to move the oversized chair to the opposite side of the bed. For some reason, she thought he felt her more if she was on his right. His left side was so limp and lifeless she hoped to reach him from the other side. She had managed moving it halfway around the bed, when the door opened.

  “What are you doing?” Anthony demanded.

  She continued to pull the chair. “I want to sit on this side.”

  Anthony strode over and lifted the chair as if it weighed nothing. “Where do you want it?”

  “Just here.” She pointed to a spot near the head of the bed.

  He placed the chair in the spot she requested.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded, and then looked down at his father. “I never thought to see him like this. I fear I’m ill-equipped to deal with an
y of this, Sophie.”

  His admission took her by surprise. They had not spoken in confidence in years. She moved closer, wrapped her arms around him and put her head on his chest. “We shall all do the best we can, Anthony.”

  He hugged her briefly. “I should be stronger, but when I see him looking so small, I want to run from this place and never come back.”

  “I understand.”

  Anthony walked around the bed, leaned down and kissed his father on the top of the head. He stood straight again and unshed tears shone in his eyes.

  “Why don’t you go for a walk? Then you can spend some time with mother. I’ll remain with father.”

  “I think that’s a good idea. I would like a walk, or perhaps I’ll go for a ride. Some exercise might do me good.” He headed for the door, then turned back. “I almost forgot to tell you, I saw Uncle Alistair yesterday.”

  She balled her fists with rage. “Don’t call him that. He’s no uncle of ours.”

  “Why not? We’ve always called him uncle.” He narrowed his eyes on her.

  “Where did you see him?”

  “I arranged to meet with an old school chum from home and we went to one of the gaming clubs. He was there. It was nice to see him. He said he has some opportunities for me. I—”

  “No! You are not to have anything to do with him, Anthony. He is not to be trusted.” She gripped him by his jacket. The idea of what Pundington might be up to took her breath from her. His attention on Anthony could only be for malice.

  He took her hands and released his clothing. Then he looked her in the eye. His own filled with anger. “Since when do you feel you have the right to tell me what to do? Are you going to tell me why you hate him so?”

  He waited for an answer, but she said nothing. Thrusting her hands away, he left the room.

  She should go after him and confess everything. If Anthony knew the truth, he wouldn’t go into any business with Pundington. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Her life would never be normal. She held her father’s hand. It was warm compared to the other side. Perhaps he felt her there and there was hope. “Papa, I’m here. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.”

  She wanted to believe she had felt his fingers tighten around hers, but it was more likely what she wished for rather than reality.

  * * * *

  When Daniel arrived three days later, he found Daphne in the foyer gazing up the steps.

  “Lady Collington?”

  She wore a dark gray dress and looked in mourning already. The wool dress must have been uncomfortable, but maybe that was the point. Her face, which was usually animated, appeared dull and tired. “It is a lost cause now. Only a question of when God decides to take him. Even Angelica has accepted this, but Sophia will not leave him. She has not eaten or slept in two days. We have all tried to convince her she must take care of herself, but she is stubborn.”

  How could they have let his Sophie neglect herself? He forced words out through clenched teeth. “Have a tray sent up. Broth and some toast.”

  Daniel took the steps two at a time. He opened Charles Braighton’s bedroom door and found his wife thin and slouched over the edge of the bed. Her anguish-filled eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks sunken. Her hair was in need of brushing and washing and lay straggly down her back. Charles’s weak breathing filled the room. Sophia clutched his hand and stared at his face.

  “Sophie.”

  “Hello, Daniel.” She didn’t turn and sounded as if she’d expected him. Her voice was bland and cold.

  “You must eat something.”

  “Is that all you have to say to me?” She remained with her back to him.

  “I understand your anger. I should have come sooner. I could not get away. I’m sorry.” He touched her shoulder.

  Her spine stiffened. “I needed you.”

  “I’m here.”

  “You can go. I don’t need you anymore. I can handle this myself. I learned that while you were taking care of your business.” The last word bit with disgust. “Frankly, I have nothing left for you, so just go.”

  “You must eat.” The tray arrived.

  “Just go.” Her voice rose louder than was appropriate for a sick room. Petting her father’s arm, she apologized.

  Daniel’s anger churned inside, but he remained outwardly calm. “I’ll not leave the room until you have eaten, Sophia. If you will take some nourishment, then I shall go.”

  The look she gave him was hateful. His beautiful, happy bride was gone and it was at least partially his fault. He should never have left her to deal with this alone. He watched as Sophia forced herself to drink the broth and eat the toast. When she finished, Daniel kept his promise and left the room.

  He checked on her at regular intervals. Every three hours he had a tray sent up and bullied her into eating. She refused to sleep, so he made sure she was fed.

  Daniel stood in the shadows watching his wife pray over Charles Braighton’s hand. She’d lost several pounds and her dress gapped along her shoulders, back and waist.

  Angelica arrived in the room late in the evening. She sat on the edge of the bed, facing both her husband and her daughter.

  Daniel was an intruder, but he wouldn’t leave Sophia again.

  Angelica’s face was drawn and sorrow filled her eyes. Sophia had told him how close her parents were. Angelica was losing not only her husband, but her closest friend and confidant.

  The strength of Angelica’s voice surprised him. “Sophia, I think he is holding on for you. You must tell him that it is all right to go. It is cruel to leave him in this state for so long. A man as strong and willful as he has always been is suffering to be left this way. I can barely look at him for my tears blind me to see him. Let him go, cuore mio. I beg of you.”

  Angelica hugged her daughter and kissed her on both cheeks. She also kissed Charles and whispered something in his ear.

  Daniel had never been comfortable with raw emotion. His own father had never shown any signs of sentimentality. As Angelica passed him, she gave him a sad smile and kissed his cheek before leaving the room.

  * * * *

  After her mother left the room, Sophia sat watching his labored breathing. The weight of the world settled on her shoulders. No amount of prayer would change the outcome. Tears slid down her face.

  As the sun tipped over the horizon, she leaned close to him. “I love you, Papa. You have done enough. I’ll be all right. It was not your fault and never for one moment did I blame you though I know you blamed yourself. I’m well protected now and you should forgive yourself. For me, there is nothing to forgive. You have been a perfect father these nineteen years. No girl could ask for more than you have done even putting up with my mimicking you and everyone else at every opportunity.

  “I know I should have been a more dutiful daughter and more of a lady like Mamma. I think perhaps you preferred me just as I am and that’s why I love you so, Papa. It is time for you to go now. God must need you more than I do. I love you, Papa. I’ll think of you always. In every aspect of my life, you will be there.” She kissed his cheek.

  His breath rattled. He squeezed her hand once more. He left the earth with Sophia’s cheek against his and her tears rolling down his face. He was not alone.

  * * * *

  Daniel lifted Sophia away from Braighton’s body and carried her to her own room. She slept fitfully, but she slept, and he sat near the bed whenever the business of Pundington didn’t call him away.

  She called out in her sleep so he moved to the edge of the bed and brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s only a dream, my love.”

  She opened her eyes and screamed. Hands flailing, she cried and fought him as if he were the devil. “No.”

  “What is it, Sophie?” His gut twisted as if full of live snakes.

  “No, Daniel, not again. Why? Why have you done this?”

  She made no sense. It had been necessary to remain in the c
ountry, but he was still riddled with guilt. Was that the cause of her nightmares? It seemed unlikely. There was no sense in dwelling on it.

  “What do you dream, Sophie? Tell me.” He held her, but she struggled against him.

  After a long struggle, she calmed. “I cannot.” Her eyes closed and her exhaustion claimed her again.

  He released her and touched her cheek still wet from tears.

  Again, she slept fitfully, but he allowed her to sleep through the dream. He’d only made it worse by waking her. Tortured by the idea that she feared him, he had no idea what caused her agitation. Deciding it was only the shock of losing her father, he let it pass.

  * * * *

  They traveled to the country to bury Charles Braighton in the family plot at Grafton Hall. After the funeral, Sophia returned to London. She made it clear she would prefer to travel alone, but Daniel sent his stepmother and sister with her.

  Daniel followed a few hours later and his arrival at the townhouse created quite a stir. He hadn’t lived there since leaving school.

  Janette glided into the foyer. “I thought it would be you, Daniel. Your rooms are ready. I have moved to the rooms at the other end of the hall. They are quite comfortable and the light is good. Sophia is settling in nicely. Cissy and I will remove to the country as soon as it can be arranged. I thought the Dulcet estate would suit us nicely, if you agree.”

  The Dulcet estate was a small holding on a pretty piece of land about an hour’s ride from Marlton Hall. Janette had always admired that house. “Dulcet needs work. I shall commission workers immediately and you can oversee the changes if you wish. Cissy must have her season. You should stay here, Mother.”

  She shook her head. “You and your new wife will want to be alone. It is not right for me to remain in Fallon House when I’m no longer the countess here. Sophia deserves to reign over her own house.”

  “You are very thoughtful. I insist you stay until I can find you a suitable house in town. Cissy should not miss the remainder of her first season. Sophia will not mind, I’m sure. Where is my wife?”

 

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