Deeper in Sin (28 page)

But she owed Cary an explanation.

“I haven't told you everything about me,” she said. “You know almost all of it. I am a courtesan's daughter. I told you I was married, but that wasn't true. He was my fiancé and wanted to wait until after the war to marry. But I loved him so much. I couldn't let him go without . . . without making love to him. So we did, even though we were not married. I could have hidden that sin, except I became pregnant. Then Samuel was killed, and I bore a son. I was so happy to have Alexander. He is all I have of Samuel. But my family—the family who raised me because my mother gave me up—threw me out. Belle lost her husband in battle too. So we were homeless and impoverished together.”

“Sophie, you've had such a hard time of it.” He stopped and touched her hand.

She squeezed his hand. “I am so sorry, but can you not see why I can't marry you? A duchess cannot have an illegitimate child! I could not hope to surmount such an obstacle. I can't pretend I am not his mother. And I feel so terrible for having been apart from him when I went to London. I could not send him away forever like my mother did. I love him, and I can't hurt him that way.”

“You pretended to be a widow before. We can continue with that story.”

“But people will be curious about where a duchess came from. What if Society learned the truth? There would be a scandal. Besides, people know I was your mistress.”

“Other men have married their mistresses. Greybrooke, for example. Helena was a governess and became his mistress before he married her. I believe a scandal can be weathered. It is not as if you have had any other lover but me.”

The theft. She could not agree to marriage. “I just cannot marry you. I can be your mistress—and be one happily. But I can never be your wife.”

 

Cary rode back to London with a broken heart.

Grey found him at White's in the afternoon and settled in the leather chair across from him. “I thought you would look happier.”

He rubbed his temple. Duty to find a bride still weighed on his shoulders. What in hell was he going to do now?

To Grey, he said, “I am in love with Sophie, I asked her to marry me, and she turned me down. I found my perfect bride, and I lost her. And I don't have the taste for a wife I don't love,” he growled. “Damnation, love is an insidious thing. I can't contemplate life without it.”

“She said no.” Grey leaned back. A servant appeared at once with a glass of brandy, which Grey took. He sipped it, then said, “So did my wife when I first asked her. I convinced her to change her mind.”

“I won't convince Sophie. She's refused me for the noblest reason.”

“Helena refused me for noble reasons.”

Groaning, Cary said, “Grey, Sophie refused me because she has a child.” Quietly, he laid out the problem before his friend. “I thought we could continue to pretend she had been married and widowed, but she fears people will find out the truth, driven to seek it because she is a duchess. I would never ask her to give him up; I couldn't deprive him of his mother.” God no. Not when he knew what it was like to be taken from his family. When he had been taken, he'd feared he would be forever parted from the people he loved.

He could not do that to a child.

“She will consent to be my mistress. But I have to marry. I'm obligated to do that to protect my own family. If I don't produce a son, the estate goes to a ne'er-do-well second cousin. He would bankrupt the estate in no time. My mother might not be gravely ill, but I could see her becoming that way if my cousin inherits and runs through all the money.” A fresh drink was delivered for Cary. He took a long swallow. “The truth is, I want to marry and have children of my own. Thanks to Sophie, I am no longer afraid I might lapse in protecting them.”

“That was what you feared?”

“I feared something could happen, and I would be too late. I would lose someone I loved. But I faced that, and I proved I could prevail and keep safe someone I loved.”

“Is there any way you can find a compromise?”

“I want to believe there is some way, but she flat out refused to marry me. . . . So do I savor love with Sophie for as long as I can . . . or do I let her go free now, in the hopes she can find love herself?”

 

He went to her house that night with every intention of letting her go. Sending her home, just as he'd vowed to do at the very beginning. He wanted her to find love, not go to another protector.

But he failed at being noble. Even now, when he knew he loved her and the decent thing was to end this, he walked into Sophie's parlor, took one look at her, and took her directly upstairs to her bedroom.

She faced him with a happy, welcoming smile as he pulled off his coat. The fire flickered in the bedchamber grate, warming the room. She looked happy—he was going mad with frustration and self-recrimination.

She walked up to him, slim and lovely in her gown of pale ivory silk. Her fingers curled around the lapels of his waistcoat, and she reached up on tiptoe. He stayed motionless, letting her lips touch his throat.

“I want you,” he growled, flicking open the fastenings down her back. “I need you now.” He worked at the laces of her stays. Then he couldn't resist, and he kissed the exposed skin in the crook of her neck. Warm and sweet and sinfully beautiful.

He wanted her for a lifetime, damn it.

But she loved her son—

Now he saw. She loved the child she had borne to the man she'd loved, intended to marry, and lost. She must love him still. He had been a good, honorable, decent young man. But for war, she would be a happy wife now.

Cary was a man who appeared to be honorable and decent but who hid dark anger behind a shield. He'd been afraid to let it out.

She deserved a good man, who could find happiness with her.

Sophie let her loosened stays fall to the rug. She pulled her shift off and stood before him completely naked. He had a glimpse of her full, heart-shaped bottom before she turned. Her nipples, rosy with desire and peaked, pointed at him.

She stepped forward and ran her hand over the front of his trousers. “I want you. I want every minute I can have you.”

She kissed his waistcoat while her hand fondled him, stroked him to rigid attention. Her lips trailed down, and she sank to her knees in front of him.

“Sophie—”

“I like doing this.” She gave him a bright smile. Not a saucy one or a bold one but one that should be shared by two delighted people pleasuring each other. Then she undid his falls and pulled down his linens, and he was lost.

Her lips parted, and he couldn't resist arching his hips slightly forward and offering his cock to her. As her plump lower lip cradled the head, he felt like lightning shot through him.

He was so aroused, he climaxed after a few sucks of her lush lips. She swallowed, amazing him.

Then he carried her to bed. He was so aroused for lovely Sophie, he got hard again quickly. They made love side by side in bed so he could tease her nipples.

They came together—at the exact same instant.

But after, he realized something. “Your son is in the country, and you are staying in London for me. I'm keeping you apart from him.”

“I can see him sometimes—if it is all right if I travel frequently.”

“Of course it is all right, Sophie. I feel damned guilty about keeping you from him. Especially during these precious times when he is so young.”

Her lip wobbled. She covered it up quickly with a smile, but he had seen it. He knew her happy disposition hid pain.

“I would support you to live in the country with your son,” he said softly. “I have other jewels on order for you. They are yours to sell. Your allowance would continue for a year. You don't need another protector—you don't need to stay in London. Let me do at least that for you.”

 

His mother found him in his study.

“Caradon, I know you are in love with Sophie. Is that why you have not proposed to a prospective bride?”

Cary looked at his mother and said, “I proposed marriage to Sophie, but she refused me.”

“There would be a scandal if you married her.”

“I know, and I'm sorry I was prepared to plunge our family into scandal, but I love her so much.”

His mother sighed. She had told him she had exaggerated her ill health, but he could see how thin and tired she was. “I do want to see you marry.”

“I will marry soon. I accept that I have to.”

“I am not trying to manipulate you, Caradon. I wish you could find love in your marriage. I suspect you will have no trouble finding a woman who loves you. Please choose a wife, my dear boy. I need to know you are happy, finally. . . .”

“I am happy. All the sorrow and pain in my past has been put to rest.”

“Thanks to Sophie Ashley,” his mother said softly.

“Yes.” Damn, he knew he had to do this. He had to for his mother, who had suffered so much. “What if I were to marry the earl's daughter? What's her name—Lady Penelope Bryant?”

His mother walked to the window and looked out over the gardens. “She would be an excellent choice. Breeding, beauty, wit—and a fortune. An eagerness for children. But do not just choose a name off the list. Meet these young women. You will find one who you like. I know you won't be madly in love, but you can grow to love someone.”

Cary's heart felt like stone, but he had to do this. His next logical step would be to choose one of the girls from his mother's list and propose again.

He was fairly sure that this time his intended would say yes.

Whether he wanted her to or not.

Then his mother said, “You deserve to have love, Cary. You deserve that more than anything. Scandals fade. I would rather you find joy than do your duty. I will accept your choice. If you marry Sophie, I will do everything I can to help her enter Society.”

He stared at his mother, astounded. Before he could say a word, someone cleared his throat and said, respectfully, “Your Grace?”

Cary looked up. His majordomo stood in the doorway of his study. “Yes, Penders?”

“There is a young lady to see you, Your Grace. She is waiting in the red drawing room.” The aged man paused. “It is not my place to say, Your Grace, but this is an unusual hour for a caller. But then, there have been young ladies about this place doing the most unusual things.”

“It isn't your place to say, Penders. However, I assume it is a matter of importance for that reason.” But Cary didn't care. It had to be Sophie. “I have to go to her,” he said to his mother.

Penders cleared his throat. “The young lady fought to disguise her emotion, but I believe she is extremely upset and frightened, Your Grace,” Penders said.

Cary jumped to his feet. His blood went ice-cold. “Upset?”

“She was laboring to appear composed. But she had obviously been crying. And her hands were clenched.”

“Why didn't you tell me immediately?” Cary fumed.

“I apologize, Your Grace.”

His majordomo stepped back, allowing him to stride by. Leaving Penders and his mother behind in his study, Cary ran down the corridor. But when he reached the drawing room, he stopped in surprise.

21

The woman in the drawing room was not Sophie. The slender figure in the black cloak who faced him with huge, frightened eyes was Belle, Sophie's friend. He had met her at the manor house in the country. Belle was a lovely young woman with brown curls and large brown eyes.

“Belle, what is wrong?” he asked as he strode into the room.

Had something happened to Sophie? Cary felt as he had in the jungle in Ceylon on the many times he and his men had been ambushed.

“Sophie is in danger! He took her child, and she went running off to him. I told her to come to you or to go to the magistrates. What he is doing is a crime! And I fear he won't simply let Alex go because she's gone to him. He wants to hurt Sophie. I know the kind of man he is.”

“Who is, Belle? Who are you talking about?”

“Lord Devars. He wanted Sophie to become his mistress after her fiancé died, especially when she had the baby and was ruined. He offered to keep her. But she refused him. She wanted to find love, you see. And he took it badly. He tried to force himself on her, and she hit him. She didn't kill him, but she—” Belle broke off and put her hand to her mouth.

“What did she do, Belle?”

“I mean, she was forced to flee to London as quickly as she could. She was worried about us, but I never dreamed he would really hurt us. But now he has taken Sophie's son to force her to do whatever he wants.”

“And she has gone to him.” Damn—why hadn't she come to him? “Where did she go? Do you know, Belle?”

She nodded and held out a folded paper. “He sent her this—his demand that she come to him. In it, he says he would have Alex returned to me if she went. But he never did. He lied.”

Cary read the note, and his blood went cold.

Belle said weakly, “He demands that she not tell anyone. I was afraid to come to you because of that, but I knew I must.”

“You did the right thing.”

“Will you help Sophie? She said she feared you didn't love her anymore—because she had to say no to you.”

“I'd help her no matter what,” he said gruffly.

He'd been through battles in Ceylon, and he had never felt so sick with fear in his life. He felt even more afraid than he had when he confronted Angelique. He had been terrified she had hurt Sophie. But this time, both Sophie and her son were in danger. Devars was known to be a brute. Arrogant, sadistic, ruthless. He had been barred from some of London's brothels, for God's sake, which proved what a vicious monster he could be. And he had Sophie and her child. If anything happened to Sophie, Cary couldn't bear it. If anything happened to Sophie's son—he knew they both wouldn't be able to live with it.

He knew the truth—he did still love her. He always would.

 

“You promised me he would go free if I came to you. You swore in your note that you would send him back to Belle!”

Sophie struggled in vain. Her hands were bound together again, but this time they were positioned behind her back. The long end of the rope had been tied around a tree. A second rope was around Alexander's waist. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Her baby. Her poor, innocent child. She couldn't go to him or comfort him. Or protect him. How could she be so helpless, so useless? She despised herself. She hated Devars. Hatred was like a serpent writhing inside her. “What are you going to do to him?” she cried.

Devars glared at her—though his top hat shadowed his face and she could not see his eyes. She could see his mouth, drawn in a hard, cruel slash of a smile. His greatcoat swirled around him like large wings on a menacing, monstrous dragon. He came close to her, bending, and she instinctively drew back. “I am ensuring that you cooperate. That you do as I say, you stupid bitch.”

She flinched. Devars spoke in a voice of ice. Utterly calm. Her son sobbed. Then Devars lifted her son's tiny body and held him over the gaping hole of an old well.

“Dear God, what are you doing?” She gasped.

“I am going to lower him in there, Sophie. He will be perfectly safe—as long as we return to take him out.”

“Mummy, no!”

The back of Devars's hand cracked across Alex's small face. His head whipped to the side.

Sophie screamed, “No, stop! Please, stop!”

Devars did, his hand poised for a second blow. His huge body moved with heavy breaths.

“Alex,” she said, her voice breaking. “You must do as he says. We will come back for you. It won't be long. Close your eyes and sing a little song. Don't be afraid.”

Would they be back soon?

She knew what Devars wanted. To have sex with her while her son was in danger. This was his ultimate punishment for her defiance. He was sick. Unfathomably evil.

Holding the rope with one hand, with it wrapped around his forearm, Devars let go of her son. Alex fell—

Only a few inches before Devars caught the rope with his other hand. Carefully, he fed Alex down into the dark hole.

Sophie was going to be sick. She had to fight for strength.

“Please don't do this,” she begged. “It's so cold tonight. He will be frozen and hungry. And he will be terrified down there. Please, do not do this. Please, bring him up. If you do, I will give you anything you want. I will do anything you want.”

“You will be more obedient when you fear for his life, my dear. And I like the idea of fucking you while you are terrified.”

He drew out a blade from his boot. Hulking and huge, he advanced on her. She wanted to scream.

But Alex would hear, and that would frighten him. “Wh-what are you going to do?”

Devars was like Angelique—too mad to see reason. He believed he had the right to hurt her as punishment. She had tried to thwart him, and she'd lost.

He slapped her. Hard. Then slammed her back against the tree.

Her hands were crushed against the bark.

Tied up, she was utterly helpless. She had to think—

“Won't you untie my hands? Then I can touch you, pleasure you.”

“You mean, try to escape from me. I know you're thinking it, bitch. I'm going to take you to a house I've rented. If you pleasure me enough, then we will return for your son. But you will have to work very hard to save his life.”

“I'll replace the bracelet.” Her throat was so tight, her voice was a croak.

“That trifle? I don't care about it. This had nothing to do with your stealing, whore. You thought you could beat me. I always win. Always.”

“No. You don't.”

She heard the low, deep, commanding voice and almost collapsed in joy. How was it possible? How could Cary be here? Then she realized he'd heard what she said about the bracelet.

Devars whipped around, partially blocking her view, but she could see enough.

Cary stood there, holding a pistol on Devars. “You know,” Cary said coolly, “I am growing tired of people trying to hurt Sophie.”

Devars brandished the blade. “I'll kill her unless you put the pistol down, Caradon.”

Sophie knew he was standing close enough to plunge the blade into her or slit her throat. She had to do something.

He might try to kill her, but she had to do something useful. Her hands were tied, but Devars's attention was fixed on Cary and he was grinning, certain he had the upper hand—

Hard as she could, Sophie kicked upward, slamming her boot right into his crotch.

He howled and staggered, but he wasn't completely crippled with pain—

Cary fired the pistol at Devars's leg.

The man screamed and squealed, but she realized he was not hit at the exactly instant he did. But by then, Cary had a long blade pulled from his walking stick, and he held the point of it against Devars's throat.

“Step away from her,” he snarled.

Devars was white with fear. Or with pain. But he blustered, “You won't kill me in cold blood. You are a war hero.”

“Then we'll duel. It is one way or the other. We will duel right here and now. Or I'll let you go—but with a wound to remind you of this night. To remind you to keep away from Sophie, my duchess, for the rest of your sorry life. If you don't shut up and get out of here, I may cut something vital and leave you with a maimed leg.”

“Your duchess? This ta—”

“Say it, and the blade goes through your throat. You threatened Sophie, you terrified an innocent child. The world would be a better place without a sick, revolting bully like you.”

“No. No, I will go. You're welcome to the—”

“Again, I suggest you hold your tongue, or I'll cut it out while you lie dying.”

She'd never seen this side of Cary. The ruthless, tough soldier. He hadn't even been like this with Angelique. She was almost afraid of him.

Devars certainly was.

Cary took one step back, his blade poised. “I am going to the magistrate with a full accounting of what you have done to Sophie. I would suggest you flee London immediately. Go and hide on the Continent. If you return, I will call you out and kill you. I swear to God, I will. Now get the hell out of here.”

At that, hulking Devars scrambled away, panting. He sounded a bit like a yipping dog.

Cary used the razor-sharp blade to slice the rope from the tree, then cut through her bonds. “Quickly, my dear. We must get to your boy.”

She hurried with him. She couldn't believe it was over. Within minutes, Cary had lifted Alex to safety and placed her son in her arms.

She had to put her face into Alex's sweet neck and sob.

“Mummy, what's wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No. I am happy. You are safe now. You will always be safe.”

“He isn't going to get away with this. I've taken steps. He owes money at the gaming hells. On top of that, we will give our testimonies to the magistrate. Lord Devars is about to be destroyed. He will definitely have no choice but to leave England. He will never bother you again.”

“Thank you. Oh my goodness, thank you.”

“Sophie, do you still care for me?”

“I love you.”

“Then marry me. I believe there is a way to make it possible, Sophie. For now, you and your son should both return to London with me.”

Before she could explain or protest, he took Alex from her arms and carried the boy back to the curricle. “Mummy! Mummy!” the boy cried desperately.

“It is all right. Your mummy is with us. See?”

Sophie had to hasten to get to his side. She clasped the boy's hand, and they both took Alex to the curricle.

 

Cary handed her up, then settled the child onto her lap.

He was happy he had been able to save this child. The poor lad clung to his mother now. Cary wrapped a fur throw around Sophie and the child. Young Alex closed his eyes, his long dark lashes lying against his round cheeks.

He was a sweet, handsome child.

Then Cary got up and slowly walked his horses around so they could follow the track back to the main road. He told her how Belle had come to him. The note had brought him to this area, then he had found witnesses who saw Devars's carriage and managed to track it.

“Thank heaven, you did. Now, how can I thank you?”

By marrying me,
he thought.

Then she said, “But where is Belle? Is she in London? I must let her know I am safe.”

“I had my coachman return her to the cottage so she could be with her children.”

“That was very good of you. But I must go to her. I think she would be frightened to be on her own tonight.”

That was Sophie—she had been through hell, yet she worried about taking care of others.

Cary inclined his head. “You're correct. I will see you safely home, for your friend will want company. I will send word to tell her you are safe now, but I suspect she will want to see for herself. And then we can tell her that we are to be married. I need practice announcing this.”

She flashed a panicked look at her son. The boy had fallen asleep. “I can't marry you, Cary. I—I love you deeply. I love you so very much. It is so wonderful of you to ask me, but—”

“I won't ask you to abandon Alex. He is a sweet, clever child. I love you with all my heart, Sophie, and I will ensure he is well-looked after. I intend to settle an income on him, from money not entailed to my estate. And I believe he can live with us as your son. There is no reason we cannot say you were married to your fiancé before he went to war.”

“But it isn't true. As your duchess, I would be under much greater scrutiny. If someone finds out it is a lie—” She broke off. “No, I will tell you the real reason I cannot marry you. It is about Lord Devars.”

“Belle told me what he wanted from you, and that you had to escape him.”

“I brained him over the head with a vase, then I ran for my life. But he had given me a diamond bracelet, to try to convince me to become his mistress. I didn't want it. I should have thrown it on his unconscious body. But I was so afraid that Belle and the children would starve that I took it. I stole it—”

“He gave it to you. I do not consider that stealing.”

“But—but he gave it to me so I would be his mistress.”

“He presented it as a gift in the hopes it would convince you. A gift should have no obligation attached.”

She managed a smile. “But it did.”

“And he said he didn't care about the bracelet. However, to make things right, I will replace it and send it to him. This time he can sell it to support himself when he flees England.”

“But you know I was a thief—”

“I know you were forced into a hellish situation. I admire you for helping Belle and the children. Sophie, it doesn't change the fact that I love you. And I am going to find a way to make it possible for us to marry. I promise.”