She had been spared both.
Stephan and Henry had already departed the house for the evening. Neither Gedding nor, her maid, Lucy could tell her anything more. Sophia had changed her gown and quietly rejoiced that no one would ever know about her visit to Mr. Fawson’s office or that she had spent most of the afternoon with the one gentleman her brother seemed to despise above all others.
Stephan’s voice could be heard as he called out for the butler. Sophia rubbed her eyes, surprised that she had fallen asleep in the chair, her needlepoint abandoned in her lap. Uncertain of the hour, she set the frame aside and stood. With her arms stretched above her head, she yawned as she strode over to the clock that adorned the mantel of her small sitting room and noted the time.
One o’clock.
By now, Lucy and the rest of staff had retired for the evening. For most of them, their duties started at dawn. However, such concerns would not matter to her brother.
With her left wrist braced against the edge of the mantel, Sophia’s slender fingers curled into a fist as she silently debated whether or not she should intercede before her brothers woke up the whole house.
Or perhaps it was too late.
Sophia could hear the soothing baritone of the butler as he attempted to pacify his employer. Unwilling to leave the servant to handle Stephan alone, she returned to the chair and picked up her walking stick.
In truth, she did not need the stick to navigate the town house. Upon her arrival, she had spent the first few days learning the layout of the house so she could move around with confidence. However, when dealing with her disagreeable brothers, it did not hurt to be prepared.
Still attired in the printed muslin round dress bordered with flounces in black that she had worn since the afternoon, Sophia slowly made her way down the passageway to the stairs. Several footmen were scurrying about lighting the lamps under Henry’s supervision.
The butler, his arms laden with greatcoats, walking sticks, and hats, was trailing after Stephan as he barked his orders.
“Where is my sister?”
Sophia’s hand gripped the banister. Stephan was drunk, and most likely Henry was, too. She swallowed the bitter disappointment welling up within her.
“Above you,” she said, causing both of her brothers to glance up.
“I thought you’d retired for the evening,” Henry said, his gaze shifting from her to Stephan in a nervous fashion.
“A slight change of plans.”
Not waiting for an invitation, Sophia slid her hand along the banister as she continued down the staircase. Neither brother rushed to assist her, nor would their help have been welcome. She prided herself on what independence she had managed to achieve, and she was apt to take her walking stick to anyone who tried to treat her like an invalid.
“You both are home early,” she said lightly, praying that her brothers had not encountered Reign during the evening. “Did you have supper? I am certain we can find something in the larder that—”
“Sophia, I require your presence in the library,” Stephan interrupted, and staggered away from his siblings toward the door that the butler hastily opened.
She looked askance at Henry. “What has happened?” she whispered.
Henry shook his head in warning while he brought a finger to his lips to silence her. “Come along, Sophia,” he said, taking her firmly by the elbow. “You know it is best not to keep Stephan waiting.”
This did not bode well.
Shaking off Henry’s hand, Sophia marched into the library. She tilted her head, and the faint clink of glass alerted her that Stephan had found the brandy. The last time her brothers had summoned her to the library, Stephan had ordered her not to see Reign.
Keeping the end of the walking stick planted into the rug, Sophia gestured broadly with her unencumbered hand. “As you can see, Stephan, I have obeyed your command. Now that we have adjourned to the library, can you please tell me why you are behaving as if I have done something wrong?”
“You’d best sit down, Sophia,” Henry said from behind.
She glanced back at her brother before stalking to the closest chair. “If this is about me paying a visit to the solicitor, I will have you know that I had every right to seek his advice.”
Stephan stared at her over the glass of brandy. “Damn you, Sophia, what right did you have to meddle in my affairs? When did you pay him a visit?”
Belatedly, Sophia realized that her brothers had not been aware of her visit. She silently chastised herself for her slip. “Days ago,” she said dismissively. “What does it matter? He did not tell me anything that I had not already deduced.”
Her brother slammed down his glass. “I did not summon you because of the damn solicitor. We have more pressing concerns to discuss.”
“Such as?”
Stephan brought his fingers to his brow. “Henry, will you be so kind as to shut the door. This concerns the family, and I will not have the servants whispering about us behind our backs.”
Concerned, Sophia leaned forward in her chair. “Stephan, what is it?”
“I may lose the town house.”
“What?” Sophia looked to Henry for confirmation, and her brother nodded. She turned back to address Stephan. “How? I thought you had sold enough to satisfy your creditors?”
She watched as Stephan traced the circumference of the glass with his finger. “A card game,” he said finally.
“Several, actually,” Henry added.
Stephan glared at his brother. “Henry, this will go better if you keep your bleating mouth shut!”
“Well, Sophia needs to know the whole of it,” Henry muttered.
A cold foreboding coalesced in Sophia’s stomach. “I do not understand.”
“What is there not to understand, sister? I sat down at one of the tables with Angrove, Newton, and several others,” he said, his voice almost devoid of emotion. “Strategy and skill are useless without luck, and that fickle bitch abandoned me when I needed her the most.”
Restless, Sophia stood and moved closer to her brother. “How could you be so reckless? First the pictures, and some of mother’s jewelry, and now this?”
“I had no intention of losing!” Stephan shouted at her, his control snapping. “Why are we discussing the bloody card game?”
“You were the one who brought it up, Stephan,” Henry interjected as he swayed slightly to keep his balance.
“This card game—” Sophia began.
“Forget the card game, Sophia,” Stephan said through clenched teeth. “Such losses can be recovered. Our family has bigger problems.”
Sophia slowly glanced from brother to brother. Stephan’s voice revealed more than her ruined eyesight. “Such as losing the town house?”
“It is merely a possibility, Sophia.” Stephan threaded his hand through his already mussed hair. “Several investments that I was counting on have dried up. I have been selling what I could to compensate for my losses. Christ, what a muddled mess!”
“So what do we do now, brother?” Sophia asked. If her brother expected sympathy from her, she feared that he would be disappointed. Stephan should have told her about the mounting debts. “Pack up what you have not managed to sell, and return to the country?”
“Actually,” Henry said, approaching his siblings, “if the town house must be sold, then the contents will be auctioned as well.”
“How long have you both kept this from me?” Sophia demanded.
The town house had been purchased by their grandfather. Although she was too young to remember in great detail, her father and mother had entertained their friends in this house. They had left behind remnants of themselves. And now it might be auctioned off piece by piece?
In a fit of temper, she kicked one of the legs of the table that separated her and Stephan. The decanters and glassware wobbled and rattled. “How could you be so careless?” She whirled away, uncertain of her destination. “Our mother and father traversed these very rooms. I can
go upstairs and sit on our mother’s bed and if I concentrate, I can still smell her.”
Sophia plucked one of the books from the shelf and marched back to brothers. “This book—” She heaved it at Stephan, and he fumbled to catch it before it hit him in the chest. “It belonged to our father. You and Henry are planning to just give it away to a stranger?”
“Not give away, sister,” Stephan said, placing the book on the table. “If need be, it will be sold.”
“What else are you planning to sell, Stephan? That fine horse you love? Or maybe Henry’s snuff box collection? Lord knows, you would never sell anything that you actually cared about!”
“You are being unfair to Stephan,” Henry said, touching her on the arm to get her attention. “Those bad investments were not his fault. Besides, we have a plan.”
Sophia rubbed her forehead. She was so furious at both of her brothers that the limited vision she possessed had dimmed, giving her a headache. With the roar of her blood rushing in her ears, it took her a minute to sense the unnatural stillness that had struck both of her brothers, warning her that she had not heard the entire tale.
“What are you not telling me?” Since Henry was the closest one to intimidate, Sophia glared at him. “What plan?”
Henry silently appealed to his brother. When Stephan said nothing, Henry shrugged and said, “Marriage.”
The word was so unexpected, Sophia laughed. “So you have found two heiresses that are willing to marry you and Stephan?”
Henry smiled weakly at her. “Not us, my lovely sister. You.”
Sophia’s hand fluttered to her throat. She took a step forward, and stumbled into the corner of the table. The pain was minor when compared with the ache in her heart.
“You cannot expect me to agree to such a thing.”
Henry took a step toward her, perhaps with the thought to comfort her. His hand dropped limply to his side when he saw her expression. “Lord Mackney . . . do you recall meeting him?”
Sophia cast a wary look at Stephan. “Of course. He has visited Northam Peak on numerous occasions. I suppose he took part in the card game that transpired this evening,” she said coolly.
Henry opened his mouth.
Stephan stirred. “Mackney offered for you this evening. I have accepted.”
“Generous of you,” Sophia muttered.
“Mackney is a decent and generous gentleman,” Stephan said, selecting one of the decanters. He poured himself a drink, and sloshed the liquid into a second glass. “You could do far worse in choosing a husband.”
Stephan picked up a glass. Instead of drinking, he surprised her by extending the glass to her. “Drink it. You’ve lost most of the color in your cheeks.”
Sophia accepted the glass, but she refrained from imbibing. “Do I not have a say in this matter?”
“You forget that I do not need your consent,” her brother said brusquely. He grabbed his glass and sipped. “Face it, little sister, there have not been many gents sniffing around you who want to relieve you of your virtue, let alone are willing to marry you for it.”
Sophia dashed the contents of her glass into Stephan’s face and tossed the glass at his head. He instinctively knocked it aside, and it shattered when it hit the floor. “Curse you; I am growing tired of your vulgarity and insults!”
Sophia brushed by Henry and marched toward the door. She made it to the stairs before her drunken brother managed to catch up to her. His fingers dug into the flesh of her upper arm as he dragged her back a step.
“I gave Mackney my word. Do not make a liar out of me, little sister.”
“Then you marry Mackney,” Sophia said dismissively, tossing her long braid over her shoulder so it fell down her back.
It was the wrong thing to say.
Sophia cried out in pain as Stephan’s fingers threatened to crush her bones. She fought against his unyielding grip, only ceasing her struggles when her gaze collided with his. Stephan looked positively capable of throttling her where she stood. His face had deepened to a reddish hue, and his blue-green eyes had darkened into a merciless black. The front portion of his hair still dripped with the brandy she had tossed into his face.
“Stephan, don’t hurt her,” Henry said from the threshold of the library. “She is merely frightened.”
“Keep out of this!” Stephan hissed at his brother. He turned his attention back to Sophia.
His brandy-laced breath soured her stomach. Sophia did not like the way he was looking at her—as if she had ceased to be his sister. He had told her often enough that she was an inconvenience. Perhaps he viewed her simply as he did any other possession. Something to be used, bargained, or discarded depending on the whim.
“I shall not do it,” she said, her body trembling with fury and fear. “You cannot make me.”
“Shall we test that theory?”
With his hand manacled around her upper arm, he pushed and dragged her up what seemed an endless flight of stairs. Henry shouted something at Stephan, but Sophia was too busy concentrating on her balance to pay heed. As it was, she could barely keep up.
Stephan was clearly unhappy with her defiance, and for the first time in her life Sophia actually feared her brother. Would he beat her until she agreed to marry Lord Mackney?
“Stephan, please . . . listen to me.”
He did not seem to hear her.
Stephan halted in front of the door to her bedchamber. Sophia was more than willing to go into her private quarters if her brother stayed on the other side of the door. She moved to enter the room, but he squeezed her upper arm, holding her in place.
“A promise was made to Mackney, and you will honor it. I will not be called a liar because you are a little squeamish about having a man put his hands on you.”
She had encountered Lord Mackney over the years when he had joined them at Northam Peak. Like most of Stephan’s friends, he seemed to tolerate her presence, but he had never openly expressed any interest in her. “You had no right—”
“I clothe you, see that you are fed, and provide shelter,” Stephan yelled. “I have every right!”
Sophia despised begging, but all she had left was to throw herself at his feet and ask for mercy. “Please do not ask this of me.”
“I must.” Stephan shut his eyes and pressed his face into her hair. He swayed against her. “No, do not say anything. Just listen to me. Mackney is offering a generous dowry. I will be able to settle my debts and still have enough to invest in several new ventures that seem credible. The town house will stay in the family. I will even be able to buy back the items that I sold to Pearse.” His voice softened, reminding her of the brother who had loved and protected her all these years. “It was inevitable that you would marry someday. It is what our parents would want for you.”
“Wrong,” Sophia said coldly. “Our mother and father would not want me to marry someone that I barely know so you can make your creditors happy. What happens the next time you find yourself full of brandy, and short of blunt and common sense? Are you going to marry off Henry?”
On a muffled oath, Stephan shoved her into bedchamber.
Sophia tripped over the small rug and landed on her side. She ignored the pain. “Where do you draw the line, Stephan? Are you willing to marry some hideous heiress for the sake of our family?” With her palms on the floor, she pulled herself up and straightened. “Or are you handing me over to Mackney because you are afraid that you might be saddled with a spinster sister for the rest of your life!”
“Stop pushing me, Sophia!” her brother said in a thundering tone.
In defiance, Sophia raised her chin. “I will not do it.”
Stephan took a threatening step toward her, and she braced herself for his fist or worse. Something in her expression seemed to stop him in his tracks. His dark eyes narrowed as he leashed his temper.
“You have no choice.” He backed out of the room. “Until Mackney and I can settle this business between us, you will remain in your bedchamb
er. No one, not even Henry or Lucy, may visit you.”
How lovely! Stephan was denying her access to anyone who might be willing to help her. “Are you planning to starve me into complying?”
“One of the servants will bring a tray to your room.” He removed the iron key from the keyhole. “Do not work yourself into hysterics, Sophia. You are marrying Mackney. You are behaving as if I had sentenced you to Newgate. By tomorrow night, all of this will be over and you will be Lady Mackney. Perhaps, in time, you will come to thank me for this night.”
Sophia bowed her head and remained silent. She felt the weight of her brother’s gaze before he sighed and closed the door. The clicking sound of the lock confirmed that Stephan intended to keep her imprisoned in her bedchamber until he could hand her over to Lord Mackney.
Sophia never thought she could feel this way, but Stephan had done the impossible: She despised her brother.
Drained, Sophia drew her legs to her chest and rested her forehead against her knees. Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered a prayer to the heavens. Perhaps, when Stephan sobered, he would regret his harsh words and withdraw his consent to Lord Mackney.
Until then, Sophia was forced to wait.
CHAPTER TEN
Reign brought the bamboo-and-copper tube up to his mouth and blew. The sharp, two-inch steel spike shot out like a bullet and struck the small target mounted to the wall. Behind him, Hunter, Dare, and Vane jeered his efforts. Damn! He had missed the red center by half an inch. Again. None of his darts had hit the center circle.
“A lousy round,” he grumbled, handing the long tube to Vane. “Was it not you who suggested that we spend our evening playing Puff and Darts?”
Vane’s mother was trying her hand at matchmaking this season, much to her son’s chagrin. The twenty-seven-year-old earl was having too much fun to settle for one lady, and he was doing his best to spoil his mother’s efforts. Reign had contemplated joining Sin and his wife as they attended several balls this evening with the added benefit of possibly encountering Sophia. Instead Reign was sitting in the main room of Nox getting utterly trounced by his three friends at a game he was beginning to loathe.
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