The Seduction of Sophie Seacrest (20 page)

BOOK: The Seduction of Sophie Seacrest
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Caroline’s small face lit up as she smiled
and nodded an emphatic
yes
. Her hands followed as she signed
that she was indeed most happy. Everyone treated her with great
kindness. Then she blushed and added, especially Holt.

“Holt?”
Her Holt?

Caroline blushed again and informed her Holt
sought her out when she was painting or working on her lessons, but
mostly when she was taking her morning rides. He’d tell her about
his travels to far-off countries, what the lands and people were
like and what he’d done there. At first, she’d been afraid because
he was so very big and his voice was so deep, but he could soften
it just so and say things to make her not afraid. Now, when she
looked at him and he spoke to her, even in his gruff tones, she
wasn’t fearful. And, she added, with a big smile that revealed
small white teeth and a huge dimple on her left cheek, she and Holt
had the same blue eyes.

“Excuse me?” Sophie could barely draw a full
breath as Caroline’s fingers moved in repetition. The message was
the same with even graver implications this time; had Sophie not
noticed Caroline and Holt had the same blue eyes
and
black
hair?

Sophie forced in small puffs of air and
answered her little sister as truthfully as she could. “Yes, you
both have beautiful blue eyes that sparkle when you’re happy and
darken when you’re not. I’ve also noticed you share the same black
hair that shimmers in the sun.” Eager to end the comparison, Sophie
pulled her sister into her arms and whispered, “No matter what your
hair or eye color, you and Holt are two of my very favorite
people.” As Caroline snuggled against her, Sophie gathered strength
to do what must be done.

***

He walked about the room, absently shedding
his clothes. When he turned, she caught a glimpse of bare chest,
brown and strong and covered with a mat of black, curly hair. Her
husband was all male, from the finely-honed muscles of his broad
shoulders to the iron-hardness of his thighs. His fingers nimbly
moved over the buttons of his calfskin breeches preparing to
discard those as well. Sophie looked away, still not accustomed to
her husband’s casual regard toward his nakedness, especially when
she sat bundled in her nightgown and robe.

She shivered as she recalled his hands on her
body, sliding her nightgown up her thighs, loosening her robe to
cup her breasts, creating a need within only he could soothe. And
oh how he could soothe her. With his hands and mouth and
magnificent manhood, he’d taught her how to please him and how to
enjoy the pleasure he so freely gave. Her body had been manipulated
into more positions in the last few days than she’d thought
possible and she’d delighted in them all, as she keened with
pleasure and begged for release.

“Sophie, I need to speak with you.” Holt
stood before her in all of his glorious nakedness, but his
expression appeared troubled.

“Is something the matter?” She asked the
question though truthfully, she could not imagine what would be.
The bedroom had become a sanctuary where all differences fell
aside.

He knelt between her legs and placed his arms
on either side of her chair. “Did you ever wonder why your father
and aunt treated Caroline with such disregard?”

Sophie chewed on her lower lip as she
gathered the courage to tell him what she must. “I always wondered
why Father loved me so much and seemed to hate Caroline. He ignored
her after the accident. I thought it was because he was grieving
for Mother but that wasn’t the reason at all.” She dreaded speaking
the words but she mustn’t keep any more secrets from Holt. “He
ignored her because she’s your half sister.”

His smile was filled with compassion, not
accusation or angry denial. “I know.” His fingers massaged her
neck, then trailed to her shoulders, easing the tension from her
body. “She’s safe now. I won’t let anyone harm her.”

Sophie touched his cheek. “Thank you.”

Holt kissed her and scooped her up in one
strong motion. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his
waist, holding fast. When he reached the bed, he lay her down
gently and unfastened her robe. His look turned hot and hungry as
he gazed at the semi-sheer nightgown. “I take care of what’s mine.”
He trailed his fingers along her belly, moving lower to cup her
womanhood. And then, he covered her body with his and showed her
just how much she belonged to him.

***

She sat in darkness, unaware of the chill
from the gamekeeper’s cottage as she rocked back and forth, her
mind filled with years of hatred and revenge. Soon it would be over
and justice would finally be served. Her thin mouth curved into a
cruel smile as she envisioned the pain she would inflict, not
physical pain, because that was too fleeting.

The pain that mattered was the devastating
mental anguish which would erupt from feeling helpless and cheated.
And then there was the pain of the heart; something she’d only
allowed herself to feel once in her life. Never again would she
experience that grief-stricken agony but she would make certain
they
knew what it was like to have someone you loved
carelessly ripped from your heart.

Soon. She smiled in anticipation. Very
soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

The realization that Holt was well and truly
besotted with his wife struck him one morning like a left hook to
the jaw. His gut clenched with such ferocity he nearly lost the
eggs and sausage he’d eaten at breakfast. When had it happened?
How
had it happened? Damnation, he had no idea.

Sophie had given him back the first rays of
hope and he’d begun to believe in the possibility of trust again,
something he thought would never happen. He confided in her more
each day as they rode over the various hillsides, checking on the
estate, or merely riding for the pure enjoyment of sharing one
another’s company.

He’d come to depend on her, whether it be for
eliciting an opinion regarding possible renovations to Ellswood or
searching for a new brood mare for his stallion. It mattered not
what they were doing as long as she was at his side. She certainly
seemed to enjoy his company. He recalled the shimmering glow on her
face the day he’d taken her to Langford Shipping and asked her
opinion on an expansion issue. Sophie was a rare treasure indeed
and if odds were in his favor it wouldn’t be long before they’d
begin adding to their family.

He winced at memories of the unkind words
he’d flung at her on their wedding day. Of course, he had no
intention of letting her leave the marriage bed once he’d gotten
her with child. Nor would she want to. Would she? Tiny shreds of
doubt clung to him. Still, she couldn’t fake the way her soft heat
wept the moment he touched her. Or pretend the shuddering
convulsions she experienced as he drove himself deep inside her.
And no amount of acting could perpetuate the lusty enthusiasm she’d
shown last evening as she drew his throbbing cock into her mouth.
Her feelings were real, there was no denying it. Nevertheless, he
wanted to hear her release him from his pledge. But how to do
it?

Women were odd creatures and she might make
him pay for those words by allowing him to think she would consider
separate beds. Best not to address the issue until she was with
child. Once that task was accomplished, they’d clear this silly
matter up once and for all.

***

Sophie heaved the remains of last evening’s
dinner into the chamber pot. Her hair clung to her neck and a film
of perspiration covered her body. Her plans to tell Holt she was
with child went awry last evening when the pregnant brood mare he
owned had difficulty birthing her foal. He and Jason insisted on
waiting for the birth and it was well past midnight before her
exhausted husband fell into bed. Morning would be soon enough to
tell him he was to be a father.

But when she awoke, Holt was gone. On his
pillow lay a long-stemmed, red rose with a note attached.
I
missed you last night. Look forward to seeing you later this
afternoon. Holt.
She’d carefully folded the note and laid it on
the nightstand seconds before her stomach lurched bits of bile up
her throat. Sophie clung to the chamber pot until the final waves
of nausea subsided, then inched her way to the wash basin where she
wiped her face and rinsed her mouth. She was carrying Holt’s child.
She spotted his scuffed hessians in the corner, obviously waiting a
much needed polishing. He must have worn the ones she’d purchased
for him last week. She recalled the pleasure on his face when she’d
given them to him; a simple gesture between a husband and wife,
made intimate by the fact that he’d permitted the gift. She picked
up one of his boots and spotted a scrap of green peaking from the
top of it. What in heaven’s name could it be? She lifted the boot
for closer inspection and recognized a frayed green ribbon taped to
the inside. It was the hair ribbon she’d given him the afternoon at
the gamekeeper’s cottage.

Holt loved her.

Sophie refolded the ribbon and taped it to
Holt’s boot. There was no need to press him for the words when she
knew the truth in her heart. Soon, they would be together again and
even before she told him about the baby, she would speak the words
of love she’d held in her heart for so long.

***

Holt arrived home earlier than expected. He’d
been looking forward to seeing his wife all day and was surprised
when she wasn’t in the garden or library, two of her favorite
hideaways. He began checking the various rooms, and almost walked
past Caroline who was painting alone in the far salon.

Her face lit up when she spotted him and she
signed a rambunctious
hello
. “Hello, my sweet. I’m searching
for that beautiful sister of yours. Is she hiding somewhere?” he
teased, tousling the shiny black locks so like his own.

Caroline’s dark brows drew together as she
spelled out her aunt’s name.

Vivian? Why on earth would Sophie subject
herself to that old crone’s waspish mouth? “Would you like to take
a ride with me to Waverly Manor? We’ll pay our respects to your
aunt and you can see if Cook has any of those lemon cakes you love
so much.” He wasn’t about to leave his wife alone in her aunt’s
clutches and besides, he had an urgent desire to see Sophie. “I’ll
meet you in five minutes in front of the stables.”

As he headed toward the stables the niggling
suspicion that something was amiss plagued him. The sooner Sophie
was in the safety of his arms, the better.

***

“You most definitely are with child.” Vivian
confirmed Sophie’s hopes as they walked along the stone path that
led to the lake. Sophie breathed in the heady scent of spring.
Fragrance and color and sound assaulted her senses, overwhelming
her in their splendor. The well-manicured lawns were lush and
green, the trees harbored pink and white sweet-smelling blossoms
and the gentle song of the birds filled the air. It was a perfect
day, a perfect world. They’d reached the lake and both women
stopped to gaze at the blue stillness of the water which ten years
before had claimed Sophie’s mother. “My child has not even drawn a
breath and yet I could not imagine leaving him or her behind,” she
said. “I’ll never understand my mother’s choice.”

“Choices are rarely black and white,”
Vivian’s voice held a sadness that surprised Sophie. “Usually,
there are snippets of black and white and a complete canvas of
gray. That is what makes life interesting and of course, vastly
intolerable for many.”

“She left us behind.”

“Yes.”

“She destroyed my father’s life.”

“She did her part but your father was a weak
man who allowed his shame and disappointments to rule him.”

Sophie glanced at her aunt. Were those tears
in her eyes?

“He should have listened to Edward instead of
contriving that ridiculous rape story which served no purpose other
than to ostracize him from society and make him look a fool and the
cuckolded husband he was.”

“You didn’t believe Father’s story?”

Vivian’s eyes never left the lake when she
spoke. “Absolutely not.”

“Did Father believe it?”

“Only when he filled himself with enough
drink to make it plausible. I thought your mother broke off with
Edward. She promised me she would, but the letter . . . said she
was planning to run away with him.”

“She promised you?”

Vivian closed her eyes and rubbed her
temples.

“Please tell me, Aunt Vivian. What did my
mother promise you?”

When her aunt opened her eyes, they were wet.
“She promised me if I let her raise Caroline, she would break it
off with Edward.”

“But why would you have anything to do with
Caroline?”

“Because she’s my daughter.”

“No.”

“I was in love with Edward Langford. Fool
that I was it mattered not that he had a wife. I wanted him and I
believed we shared the rare love that transcends societal dictates.
He apparently was not of the same belief. He broke off with me and
began seeing your mother.” She let out a harsh, empty laugh. “Your
mother and I once shared a chamber pot to empty our morning
breakfast. That’s how we discovered we were both pregnant.”

“How awful.”

Vivian shrugged her bony shoulders. “I didn’t
want his child. I only wanted to inflict a pain so deep, he’d
regret the day he cast me aside. Your mother was the only one who
knew I was with child, so I blackmailed her to finish her
confinement in a small village several hours away. She told your
father she required special herbs to ease passage through the birth
canal that could only be found there. I, of course, would accompany
her.”

“But my mother’s child—”

“Stillborn. She was a Seacrest with hair like
yours.”

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