“Do tell me.”
But Danielle’s words faded away when the Marchioness stepped out of the carriage with a little bundle in her arms. “A baby.”
“You were discussing a baby?” Danielle choked out. “Please tell me you’re not considering having a bastard.”
She swatted at Danielle’s hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. The Marchioness has a baby.” She clutched Danielle’s arm as she pointed at the little bundle.
“Lovely.” Danielle craned her neck to peer out the window. “Who is the other gentleman with the Marquess and Lord Ridgely?”
“Their brother, Lord Maddox,” she answered, barely looking at the third man. When she could remove her gaze from Harry, she tried to catch a glimpse of the baby’s face, which the blankets covered.
Danielle gave a loud swallow. “A man should not be allowed to be that sinfully handsome.”
That got Sophie’s attention. “Danielle,” she warned. “He is a duke’s son and obscenely wealthy, I’m sure. Do not get any ideas.”
Danielle quirked a brow. “Worry about yourself. You need the concern far more than I do.”
“Fair point.” Sophie notched her chin as she watched the party proceed to the front stoop.
Their butler swung open the large oak paneled door as Danielle, Sophie, and the rest of the tiny staff prepared to greet their guests.
* * *
Harry stood by the fire while everyone else sat, talking and munching on the late luncheon the cook had provided. Sophie had been correct, Mrs. Patterson was excellent. The furniture was more comfortable, of course, and the company far nicer. And yet, Harry desperately wished to be back at the inn. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Sophie.
Both of his brothers had noticed his infatuation with her. How could they not? Harry had found his gaze upon her before he could come to his senses and stop himself several times in the last hour since they’d arrived.
He couldn’t help himself. He liked the prickly Sophie who informed him that he couldn’t tell her what to do, he had to ask…nicely. He found her defiance intoxicating. But this Sophie. The one who smiled at his brothers, graciously welcomed his sister-in-law into her home, served tea, and held his nephew as she gazed longingly at the infant. This Sophie had set him aflame.
Even now, he was taking deep, calming breaths to keep his trousers from tenting in an embarrassing way. What the bloody hell was so sexy about a woman holding a child? He’d likely seen a thousand women carry a thousand babies in his life and it had never, ever, not once had this sort of effect on him.
But Sophie…by God, he wanted to ravish her on the spot. She smiled down at little Nicholas, her eyes dancing with delight as she made little cooing noises that the babe returned. Nick already understood women, apparently, because he stuck his fingers into her mouth, eating up her attention.
Bollocks, he’d like her to make those noises in his ear as he took each of her fingers into his mouth one by one.
“Harry,” Bar said his name in that short, sharp tone that told Harry he’d likely said his name several times already.
“Yes?” Harry asked, slowly turning his gaze to his brother.
Bar glowered. “I asked if you knew the Mayfields? They live just outside of town and are hosting a dinner and dance tomorrow evening. We originally declined the invitation, but Emily wrote this morning and asked if we may all be able to attend.”
“Excellent,” Harry answered. This news was far from excellent. He didn’t want to see the Mayfields and he especially didn’t want to watch Sophie be introduced to a myriad of suitors. They’d be crawling all over her. What man in his right mind would not?
Drew quirked a brow. “You still didn’t answer the question. Do you know the Mayfields?”
Bile bit into the back of Harry’s throat. Damn his brother. Bar likely didn’t remember that he’d had a rather sordid involvement with the eldest Mayfield daughter, though she’d been Mrs. Cummings when they’d had their tryst. But Drew had seen the two of them engaged in a kiss in the garden. Coincidentally, hours before her husband had nearly discovered them. That incident helped him realize he needed to make some changes in his life, and he’d enlisted shortly afterward. “Of course I have.” There were only so many influential families in the area. Although Dover may have had more than many country settings, everyone knew one another.
“Which of the Mayfield girls do you find the prettiest?” Drew asked giving him a sly grin as his eyes twinkled.
Harry answered in complete honesty. “I can’t remember what a single one looks like.” Then his eyes slid to Sophie again. None of them held a candle to his sweet little fire goddess.
Drew let out a deep chuckle. “Your tastes have changed, brother. You used to like fair maidens who were tall and slender. Much like our lovely Miss Frazier.”
“Drew,” Bar bit out sharply, his voice hard enough to break rock. “That is enough.”
Harry’s eyes glittered. Two could play at this game. “Miss Frazier, if my brother so much as touches a single hair on your head, you tell me. I’ll see he does his duty by you.”
Drew straightened, his sly smile tensing into a snarl. “You’ve gone too far.”
“I believe that you are the one who has gone too far. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here.” Harry didn’t move a muscle, even as his brother jumped out of his chair and got directly in Harry’s face. Harry couldn’t possibly win with his hip still impacting his health, but Drew didn’t need to know that. Furthermore, Harry knew several ways to incapacitate a man before a fight had hardly begun. Harry’d kick out his back knee before he’d even have time to draw back his punch.
But he didn’t have a chance. Before Drew could raise a fist, a little brunette spitfire was in between them and up on her toes with her face in Drew’s. “You can sit back down or you can leave. There will be no fighting in my house.”
Drew took a half step back, surprise making his eyes bulge.
Sophie dropped her hands from her hips and her shoulders relaxed. “And perhaps a drink would make you feel more at home? Some wine with our lunch? It was silly of me not to serve it at the first.”
Little minx. She’d changed tactics before Drew had even known what had hit him, and his little brother gave a dumb nod.
“Lord Ridgely, would you help me fetch a few bottles?” she asked. “I’ve a decent collection in the cellar to choose from.”
He pushed off the mantle, giving Drew a narrow-eyed glare. “Of course.” Then he followed Sophie out of the room.
The moment they were out of earshot, Sophie turned to him. “If Lord Maddox touches her, he won’t have a chance to marry her. I’ll shoot him myself.”
Harry brought his hand to her back. “You can’t actually shoot, can you?”
Her chin rose. “I can.”
His lips curled as he gave a pleased chuckle. “This just gets better and better.”
“What does that mean?” she asked sharply.
But her shoulders relaxed. He leaned close to her ear as they made their way down the cellar steps. He drew in her scent and then let his own breath blow across her ear. “I enjoyed watching you put Drew in his place. He needs it.”
A lovely shade of pink stained her cheeks. “Danielle is all I have. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
“You shouldn’t, but try not to worry. I’ll keep Drew out of trouble and away from Danielle.” They turned a corner and he saw the racks of wine. Being so close to France had its advantages. He looked at several labels, admiring the vintages.
She drew a few bottles from the rack and gave one to Harry. “Good. I want Danielle to have a wonderful life and that means she’s not marrying a rake.”
Harry watched her begin to climb the stairs again, her hips swaying. As always, his body responded as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. He wasn’t sure if either he or Drew was in more danger of playing the part of a rake.
Chapter Nine
Dinner was a lovely affair, Sophie decided, as she,
Danielle, and Emily made their way to the music room, the men having retired to smoke. Despite her worries over Drew, Harry’s family was easy to get along with—kind, honest, and forthright. She liked them immensely. Most of all, when he wasn’t overwhelming her senses, she enjoyed being with Harry. Not only was he handsome, he was strong, honest, and kind. Her mouth twisted. If only he wanted the same things she did.
“So.” Emily linked her arm through Sophie’s. “You want to marry.”
Sophie drew in a breath as Harry’s strong features danced behind her lids. “I do.”
“What sort of man are we looking for?” Emily tapped her chin. “You clearly already have a beautiful home. Your finances are sorted?”
“Yes.” Sophie looked at the marchioness. “I’m not a titled lady but Harry mentioned, as guardian of my estate, he could grow my funds enough to comfortably support Danielle and myself. I don’t need a husband to provide for me financially.”
Emily chewed on her lip. “I hear what you’re saying, but you may not want a man who doesn’t have his own money. It doesn’t speak well of him personally and then your money will be all he has to spend.”
Sophie frowned as doubt niggled in her stomach. Emily made some excellent points. “Most of my funds are from my brother’s military salary. He gave his life for that money…”
“Exactly. A man who has plenty of his own will be far more likely not to care about yours. Unless of course, he is a controlling sort.” Emily stopped walking, drawing Sophie up short.
She looked over at Danielle, who shook her head. “Oh, that wouldn’t do at all,” she said. “Sophie is a woman who likes to be in charge.”
Sophie glared back at her cousin, but Emily laughed. “I completely understand. I had every intention of starting my own career. I didn’t want to marry at all. After my father left me with a mountain of debt, I never wanted to be at the mercy of someone else again. Bar changed my mind, however. He has never made me feel like he is my keeper. We are partners in everything.”
“Truly?” It was Sophie’s turn to stop short. “He manages a dukedom.”
“We manage a dukedom,” Emily said, her eyes twinkling as she pulled Sophie along. “But men like the Maddoxes are hard to come by. I might suggest another sort. There are plenty of men who have an inheritance but mostly live a life of leisure. House parties and hunting. You know the sort. They are softer, more easily controlled. If you’re confident in your ability to manage your affairs, then choose a man who won’t mind if you do the work while he sets himself to more leisurely pursuits.”
“That’s an excellent point.” So why did that sound so awful? She thought of Harry who planned to help her expand her fortune, not neglect or spend it. Why couldn’t she find a man like that? But a little voice whispered deep inside. She already had.
“Oh good.” Emily gave her sleeve a tug. “If we’re in agreement, I have a few men you must meet. The youngest Mayfield, Angus, will marry soon. He’s nearing five and twenty and the only son, so he’ll inherit the family’s property and whatever fortune is left. I’ve heard whispers that isn’t very much but that may make him amenable to a match. He isn’t the most ambitious man, so that’s perfect.”
Sophie’s frown deepened. The idea of a soft man had been a good theory, but the reality was less than thrilling. “Perfect.”
“Then there is Sylvester Clearwater. He fell into a fortune when he was found to be the only living male heir for his great uncle once removed. With any luck, he’ll have difficulty spending it all.”
Sophie drew in a shuddering breath. She’d met Mr. Clearwater. He was overweight and not the healthiest man. On the bright side, he’d likely widow her inside a decade, if one could consider that a point in his favor. Many would, and though she’d stated she only wanted to marry for the sake of having her own children, when it came down to it, that sounded so…tawdry. Why couldn’t she have it all? A man who was a partner in every way, strong, and kind too.
Once again, thoughts of Harry drifted through her mind. He was returning to the military and besides, she was idealizing him, based upon Emily’s words involving Harry’s brother. Harry was the man who’d told her she was to host his family rather than asking, who’d demanded she go to a home for destitute women. She was allowing her attraction to color her perception of him. Wasn’t she?
* * *
Harry sat staring at his brothers through the plume of smoke with which they’d managed to fill the room. He flexed his hand, trying to slow his heart and calm his irritation. He had an irrational longing to join the women again and was resisting the urge to rush his brothers by sniping at them to finish their bloody cigars already.
Drew slouched in his chair, staring up at the ceiling while Bar leaned against the mantel, looking out at the ocean.
“This house has quite the view,” Bar said as he crossed to the window. “A little small but nicely appointed and comfortable.”
Harry agreed with all of that except for the small part. “You clearly haven’t been living in a tent. It’s no estate, I suppose, but this is a fine house.” The large staircase gave it a stately appearance and the rooms were just the right size to feel homey while spacious enough to not be crowded.
“The question that statement begs is why would you want to go back to living in a tent?” Drew drawled around his cigar. “You’ve been given an earldom and a pretty little ward.” Drew sat up. “What’s more, your injury clearly bothers you. If you’re not careful, you could wind up dead and then all these gifts would be for naught.”
Harry let out a sound from deep in his throat that was low and menacing. He was already on edge and Drew’s words irritated him. “What do you know of it? I didn’t want to be an earl. I was a man of leisure once and I won’t go back.” He rubbed his hands along his knees. How did he say that he owed it to Alfred?
“Being an earl doesn’t mean you’ll live a life of leisure.” Bar interrupted. “In fact, once you’re done helping Sophie you should go tend your own affairs. And so you know, I agree with Drew. Why not make a life here? Manage your property. Use it to build your own fortune. Make babies.”
“Here’s a thought,” Drew let out a chuckle, clearly pleased with himself. “Just marry Sophie. She’s a delicious little package that—”
“Watch your tongue.” Harry sat up straighter, his fists clenching at his sides. Drew would not disrespect her. He’d teach his little brother proper etiquette with his fists if he had to.
Drew continued to lounge in his chair giving Harry a lazy look. “That you’re clearly infatuated with. Can’t keep your eyes off her.”
Bar turned away from the window. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Drew. She’s perfect for you.”
Air whooshed from him as though he’d been punched. They were ganging up on him now. Likely just for fun. “You heard her. Demanding we not argue in her house. She’s full of piss and vinegar.” Harry knew he was deflecting. His life was back at the front. Not here.
“Oh please.” Bar waved his hand. “You’d die of boredom with a less-spirited woman.”
“Besides.” Drew sat up. “Seems like the type of woman who might have a whole lot of passion simmering under the surface.” He scrubbed his jaw with his hand. “If you’re not going to marry her maybe I will. Bar’s always on me to start a more stable life.” He gave Bar a meaningful glare. “Maybe a spirited filly is just what I need to keep stable interesting.”
Harry sprang from the chair and moved across the room in a second. He ignored the twinging pain in his hip as he leaned down over Drew, his nose coming within an inch of his brothers. “You say anything like that again, and I’ll bash your face in.”
Drew quirked a brow. “Jealous?”
Harry drew in several deep breaths, trying to calm the surge of anger that roared inside him. “You think I would allow my ward to marry the likes of you? Careful brother, or I’ll have Bar cut you off and then you’ll have no choice but to follow me to the front.”
/>
“The front?” That made Drew visibly pale. “What’s your infatuation with attempting to get yourself killed?”
Harry straightened, pain radiating down his leg. “I was a waste of a man before I enlisted. It’s brought meaning to my life. Without it…” He might just go back to who he’d been, a wastrel and selfish. Another leisurely lord without purpose, direction, or meaning.
“Waste?” Drew asked. “You were fun before the war. Now look at you. Limping and surly, you can’t even recognize a beautiful opportunity standing right in front of you. Tup Sophie already and remember who you are.”
Crack. Harry caught Drew with a stiff punch to the jaw. Pain exploded down his side from the injury even as Drew’s chair tipped back, crashing to the ground. “Don’t ever say something like that about a lady again.”
Drew scrambled to his feet, his jaw already swelling as he made a lunge for Harry.
Harry couldn’t even squat into a defensive posture and he knew this would hurt. But Bar stuck out his arm, catching Drew and sending him spinning off in another direction. “Enough,” he roared. He pointed first at Drew. “He took a cannonball to the hip. You can’t tackle him.” Then he turned to Harry. “Sophie was clear. No fighting in her house.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Harry looked at his brother, standing straighter.
“Me?” Bar raised a brow. “Nothing. I’m going to let Sophie take care of you.”
Damn. Bar knew how weak he was when it came to Sophie. What was more, he could hear the ladies coming, though their slippers were muffled by the thick carpet. He was in trouble now.
Chapter Ten
As the crash filled the air, Sophie jumped up from the piano and raced down the hall. She didn’t have to say a word. Emily and Danielle fell in step behind her. The smoking room was at the opposite end of the main hall, and she wondered what could have possibly made such a loud sound.
As she tossed open the door, it only took her a moment to figure out what had happened. Furniture was toppled and strewn about and Drew held his hand over his jaw.
Taming an Unrepentant Earl (Taming the Duke's Heart Book 10) Page 5
