Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12. Ann Lethbridge

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Название Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12
Автор произведения Ann Lethbridge
Жанр Исторические любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство Исторические любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474057561



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raised his hands in supplication before her. It hurt more than he liked to admit that Sophie equated him with Sebastian Cawburn. He wanted her to see him for who he was, not who she thought he was.

      She simply sat there with her eyes closed.

      ‘He cheats at cards,’ Richard continued. ‘He maintains two mistresses. He had to flee to the Continent to escape his creditors three months ago. I’ve done none of those things. Nor will I ever do such things. Believe me, please!’

      She cautiously opened her eyes.

      ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I refuse to repeat my mistakes. I made a solemn vow.’

      ‘When … when did it happen to you? When did you encounter Cawburn? Tell me that much.’ He swallowed hard and tried to control his frustration. Shouting at her would make matters worse, but he wanted to know how she’d become mixed up with Cawburn and what he’d done to her. A primitive urge to do violence to the man filled Richard. Somehow, he’d harmed Sophie. ‘Help me to understand why you might be comparing us.’

      ‘It was my first Season. I was naïve.’ Sophie raised her chin and he could see tears shimmering in her eyes. She clenched her fists before continuing. ‘Lord Cawburn can be very charming when he wants to be, but when he doesn’t get his own way, he is … he becomes a violent monster.’

      Sophie pressed her hands to her eyes, making a sudden decision. She had to tell him everything, then he’d see why their relationship was doomed and why she refused to act on her attraction to him. He was sure to turn away from her in disgust. It would hurt a little, but better to be hurt now than to be led inexorably towards another room in a seedy inn.

      ‘Go on.’ He put his hand on hers. His voice was soothing as if he were speaking to a nervous horse. ‘Whatever happens, know I won’t be angry with you. I want to understand. It was during your first Season you had the misfortune to encounter Cawburn …’

      ‘I believed his promises. The ones I wanted to, rather than the ones I thought he said as a joke. I should have paid more attention to those ones.’ Sophie slowly withdrew her hand from his. He made no attempt to recapture it. He simply looked at her with burning gold eyes that bored deep into her soul.

      ‘It was very flattering,’ Sophie said when the silence became too great to bear. ‘I was his angel put on the earth. It was exciting to have someone that experienced interested in me. Before that I was Sophie, the one with the awkward hair who could never remember to start on the correct foot during the quadrille. It all went to my head. He kept arranging for us to meet at various balls and entertainments. When my stepmother discovered us in a deserted card room, holding hands, my guardian objected to the match and brought me away, but that only increased my desire for Lord Cawburn. He bribed my maid and sent clandestine letters, declaring his undying devotion. He followed me north. We eloped together at his insistence.’

      ‘But you didn’t marry.’

      ‘My guardian and Sebastian’s cousin, Henrietta, caught up with us the next day.’ Sophie gave a hollow laugh. ‘We hadn’t even reached Scotland. The carriage had broken down. Trust me to pick someone who couldn’t even organise a proper elopement.’

      She waited to hear his sarcastic laughter at her youthful folly. Her heart thudded as the only sounds were the turning of the carriage wheels.

      ‘There has never been a whiff of scandal,’ he said finally. ‘I have never heard that Cawburn eloped with anyone. Not that I don’t believe you, but I am at a loss to explain how such a thing was kept out of the papers. Cawburn has never breathed a word of it, either, not even when he was completely pie-eyed after a Derby win. And he is the sort of repellent individual who regularly boasts about his conquests to anyone who might listen. How did you manage it?’

      Sophie’s shoulders sagged slightly. He believed her story, rather than accusing her of lying. Or worse.

      ‘That was Henri’s doing,’ she said, leaning forwards. Richard had to understand how grateful she was to Henri Montemorcy. ‘She is marvellous at arranging things like that. I shall never know what she said to Lord Cawburn. We’ve never spoken about it. Henri married my guardian soon after. That part was very romantic. It made me realise the importance of true love versus flattery.’

      A primitive surge of anger swept through Richard. Sophie had gone through hell and she’d had to rely on Cawburn’s cousin. ‘You spent the night with Cawburn. It is an intriguing little fact. I am surprised your guardian didn’t insist on a marriage.’

      ‘Henri sorted it out. In the excitement of her marriage to my guardian, my indiscretion was overlooked, just as Henri predicted. Henri is marvellous. She has been so helpful in showing me how to behave correctly.’

      ‘Your guardian’s wife must be very good at arranging things.’ Richard struggled to contain his anger and frustration. Cawburn had not suffered at all for his part in this. ‘Most things like that appear within the first months, if not days. How long has it been since it happened?’

      ‘Nearly four years.’

      ‘Four years! My God, she is better than good. I’d never have thought Cawburn would keep quiet that long. Of course, if he said anything now, who would believe it?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Why is it that your guardian did not force the marriage? Even if his brain was love-addled, he had to have appreciated the risks to your reputation.’

      Sophie winced. And Richard knew his words had come out too harshly.

      ‘I spent the night barricaded in an inn’s upstairs room. I hit Lord Cawburn with a frying pan when he decided to take liberties and, once he left, I pulled a chest of drawers, a trunk and the bed against the door. I sat up all night with the frying pan in my hand. Lord Cawburn came up twice to shout at me through the keyhole, but I refused to open the door until Henri appeared.’

      The muscles in Richard’s shoulders relaxed. Sophie remained an innocent. He had thought he’d have to go and make sure that Cawburn suffered a slow and painful death, but he’d allow him to live. He would simply use his influence to ensure Cawburn had a frosty welcome when he next turned up in London.

      Silently he vowed he’d demonstrate that she was wrong in her assessment of him. He wanted to show beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could never do what Cawburn had done to her. He put all thoughts of seduction from him. Sophie needed a friend, not a lover.

      ‘You hit Cawburn with a frying pan. Thoroughly deserved.’ Richard banged his hand on his knee and barely stopped himself from hugging Sophie. Trust her to sort out Cawburn. ‘What did he do after you hit him once? Did he take the hint that you were no fragile flower and run?’

      ‘It took three goes, but he went. It is lucky that I know how to play cricket and how to hit the ball hard.’

      He laughed out loud.

      Sophie smiled back at him. Relief flooded through her. Somehow it made it easier to talk about it. Henri and Robert had never wanted to discuss that night. After they left the inn, Henri told her it was unnecessary as nothing had happened. But it had and Sophie couldn’t forget it. Sometimes she woke up with a pounding heart, reaching for the frying pan, trying to get it from her bag and finding her bag empty. ‘Three times, but I succeeded in the end.’

      He instantly sobered and the fury returned to his face. ‘It should have taken him one, but it should never have to come to that. He should have accepted your no. You did say no, Sophie, before you started swinging your frying pan?’

      ‘I screamed it!’

      ‘Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.’ He patted her shoulder. The tiny gesture of approval sent a pulse of warmth throbbing through her. Richard agreed with her actions. ‘But why did you have a frying pan? It is not the usual sort of equipment one carries on an elopement. Are you a keen cook?’

      ‘When we first met, Henri had warned me that her cousin might have difficulties in understanding no. She thought a hatpin wouldn’t do, but he might need a frying pan applied to his head. I think she was joking when she