The Prince of Ravenscar (43 page)

Julian laughed, and the rip of pain made his jaw lock. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Sophie's smell. What was it exactly? He didn't know, he only knew he wanted to breathe her in the rest of his life, he hoped a life that extended beyond this torture.

“Promise me,” he said, teeth gritted.

“Oh, aye, I'll promise you anything to make you calm,” Devlin said. “I'll also look after your mother, and don't forget Pouffer. Now be quiet and let Dr. Crutchfield set his last stitches.”

“Aye, all done now,” Dr. Crutchfield said. “I'm old, Prince, too old for this nonsense. You getting yourself stuck with a knife—it could have struck an organ and done you in. I don't like it. Avoid villains in the future. Now, this young missy crouching over you like a tigress, I can tell you from experience she needs a firm hand. However, I doubt there is a single part of you that is firm enough to do the job anytime soon, and even then, I'd say it's questionable.

“Now, let me wash away all your blood, sprinkle basilicum powder on my very fine stitches, and get you bandaged up. Missy, you will see the prince keeps to his bed.”

“I will tie him down, if necessary,” Sophie said.

Julian groaned, wondered if Dr. Crutchfield was right, nothing firm about him, at all. “You are too young to be a shrew.”

She leaned down and kissed him again, stroking her hand over his beloved face.

“I am the queen of shrews, dearest,” Corinne said, from the bottom of the bed. “Even with lessons, Sophie will never gain my stature. But we can try.”

“Thank you, your grace.” Sophie smiled down at Julian, kissed him again, kneeled back on her heels, and laughed.

“Heal yourself, Prince, do you hear me? Then you may be as firm as you like with me.”

“If you only knew,” he said.

“We also have a wedding to attend.”

The prince gave her a twisted smile. “We have two weddings to attend, and isn't that a fine thing?”

W
hat are you doing on my bed? We're not married yet.” Julian wondered if any part of him was firm again. He cleared his throat, cast about his brain, but simply couldn't sort through much of anything. “Are we?”

Sophie, who'd been lying beside him, her palm over his heart, came up onto her knees and leaned over him. “Thank heavens you're finally awake. It's been hours.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Too many of them.”

“Sophie, I will not die, all right? I have a very big problem.”

“You're thirsty? I know you've got to be hungrier than our pregnant Beatrice.”

“Sophie, I must use the chamber pot. Immediately.”

She said nothing at all, jumped off the bed, brought the chamber pot to him.

“Thank you. Go away.”

She went. Fortunately, Devlin was in the hallway outside. “Go to him. He needs assistance. With the chamber pot.”

Devlin shut the door firmly in her face. Sophie devoutly prayed for Devlin's sake that he take very good care of Julian. She was tempted to wait, but she heard voices coming from Corinne's sitting room down the corridor.

She should go back—

Roxanne called out, “Sophie, come in here. Corinne and I are having tea. Devlin can take care of my soon-to-be uncle-in-law. Come visit us. Goodness, Sophie, you will be my aunt now.”

That stopped her in her tracks. “Good heavens, the prince will be your uncle-in-law. I will be your aunt? That sounds rather illegal, mayhap even immoral.”

“Since I'm your aunt as well, I would rather consider it interesting.”

“Do you know, Roxanne, Papa will be very surprised indeed when I present him with Julian, a prince. I'm sure he never expected anything at all to come from my Season. A waste of groats, he always said.”

Corinne said, “You are marrying my son, Sophie, surely only one single small step from attaining heavenly rewards. Ah, how very pleased I am. The two of you are doing exactly as your mama and I wished.”

“Mama would be very happy, indeed,” Sophie said, and felt the blurring of tears. She swallowed and sat down on a plush settee.

“Devlin, is our patient showing improvement?”

Devlin smiled at Corinne from the doorway and said to Sophie, “My dear auntie-in-law, Julian asked me whether the two of you were married. What could I say?”

“Devlin,” Roxanne said very slowly, “have you been making mischief?”

“You mean I told him he was indeed married, and why didn't he remember it? Surely a gallon of laudanum could be no excuse for forgetting your wife.”

Laughter burst out, but no one had a chance to say anything, because Pouffer glided into the room, a Meissen teapot in his hand. “Your grace, Richard Langworth is here. Lady Merrick is here as well.

“As you know, Lady Merrick has sent several messages, which none of you have answered. May I congratulate you on your oversight? As for Richard Langworth, if he had sent a message wishing the prince well, I fancy I should have burned it myself. I have brought very hot tea. It is entirely your decision what to do with it.”

Devlin rubbed his hands together as he rose. “What a fine day this has become. Show them in, Pouffer. Ah, wait a moment.” He walked to Pouffer and spoke low into his ear. Pouffer gave him a long assessing look, nodded. “I shall show in Mr. Langworth.”

“And my sister, please,” Roxanne said. She looked around the room at the sudden silence, at the suddenly long faces. “Stop it, all of you. We enjoyed a few minutes of laughter. Don't feel guilty about it, any of you. Now that two of our principals are here, we can deal with business. The prince is safe; he will not know what is going on.”

“Actually, I will, Roxanne. No, don't look appalled. I will not fall over. However, I will be seated.”

He was wearing a dark blue velvet dressing gown, his big feet bare. Sophie didn't make a move toward him. She searched his face. “You know what you're doing, my lord?”

He smiled at her as Devlin helped ease him down in a large brocade wing chair. “Yes. Don't fret.”

“Dearest,” said Corinne. She rushed over to examine his eyes, lightly trace her fingertips over his whiskers, pat his shoulder. “You look much better than yesterday. I shall give you a cup of oolong tea. It will strengthen your stitches.”

Pouffer cleared his throat from the doorway. “Your visitors are here, Prince, your grace.”

When Richard and Leah entered Corinne's sitting room, Richard's eyes immediately went to Julian.

“Here you are having tea when I had believed you near death's door.”

“Not quite. But forgive me if I don't rise,” Julian said.

Richard didn't answer. Instead, he was staring at Leah. “You look different today.”

“I am wearing one of Lily's gowns.”

Richard grew very still.

“Your hair is fashioned like Lily's,” Corinne said. “All the braids atop the head, but with you, Leah, there are some softening curls over your ears. It's a distinctive look. Why, Leah? What is this all about?”

Leah said, “I like it, nothing more than that.”

Julian said, “You're wearing Lily's locket. I had thought she was—”

“You thought she was buried in it? No, Vicky evidently kept it,” Richard said, then turned to Leah. “Did she give it to you?”

Leah nodded. “She said since I would be her sister, she believed I should have it. You do not like that I am wearing it, Richard?”

He said slowly, “I suppose our portraits can be set in the locket.”

Julian felt the pain building in his side. He ignored it. He said, “Orvald Manners finally told us you were behind Roxanne's first kidnapping.”

Richard glanced from face to face. “I regret that. I shouldn't have done it. Forgive me, Roxanne.”

“Of course I shan't forgive you. You're a putrid slug, Richard.”

Julian said softly, “I wonder at the depths of your regret if Manners had raped Roxanne.”

“I would expect to fight you to the death in a duel.”

“No, you would not have fought Julian, you would have fought me,” Devlin said. “I am even a better shot than Julian, so I would have killed you. Such a chance you took, knowing if your plan had succeeded, you would be a dead man. I cannot believe you hired that idiot to take her—and the wrong lady, too.”

Richard turned to the prince. “So you will marry Sophie.”

“If we are not already wed, then yes.”

“We are not yet wed, Prince,” Sophie said, “but as soon as you are well, then the Prince of Ravenscar will be married in the village church to a worthy maiden—namely, myself. We will invite everyone. It will be grand.”

Leah said, a sneer marring her mouth, “You will be rich, Sophie, but it is Roxanne who will be the future Duchess of Brabante.”

Sophie said, “This is very true. It would seem to me you should endeavor to be a bit more conciliating, Aunt Leah. No, I disowned you, didn't I? Well, no matter. Remember we will be neighbors.”

“I really don't care what you do, Sophie. I do wonder, however, what your dear mother would think of all this.”

“My mother would wonder why you, her sister, treat me like—I am even boring myself repeating this very old business. You are what you are.

“Richard, evidently Devlin isn't going to kill you, since Roxanne managed to save herself from Manners. A great pity, I think, since you have proved that you are a nasty piece of goods and a danger not only to the prince but to Roxanne and me.” She cocked her head at him. “Do you know, Richard, I must say this again—it amazes me that you have known the prince all your life and yet you do not immediately accept his word that he did not kill Lily. Yet I, who have known him for perhaps a month, recognize his integrity, his innate goodness and fierce honor, all the way to my bones.”

T
here was dead silence.

Richard jerked away and began pacing. “This is all damnable,” he said over his shoulder, and continued his pacing. He turned back to Julian. “All have heard that Harlan Whittaker, your own man of business, betrayed you. Why did he take Roxanne?”

Julian shook his head. “He fancied himself in love with her and planned to steal her away, to wed her, which, naturally, she wouldn't have allowed. That leaves you and your feeble attempts, Richard. What should I do with you?”

Richard stood mute, his hands clenched at his sides. Julian saw the misery and pain in his eyes. For a moment, he also saw the boy he'd known so many years before, full of laughter, ready for any adventure, no deceit in him at all. But Richard was no longer a boy, and Lily was dead three long years. Julian didn't think he could bear it. He waved a hand toward the settee. “Both of you, sit down.”

Leah, who'd stood ramrod straight and stiff, her eyes down, sat, smoothing her skirts around her. Richard, however, remained standing. Alone.

Corinne said, “I shan't ask either of you to enjoy a cup of tea. Now, Richard, answer my son.”

But Richard remained silent.

“What does your father say about this, Richard?” Roxanne asked him.

“He is very upset about these—attacks. He is spending most of his time in the library, alone.”

As you are alone,
Julian thought.

Sophie moved close to Julian now, placed her hand on his shoulder, and her fingers began to lightly massage him.

His side was aching fiercely, the stitches pulling whenever he moved, but he knew he had to finish this. He said, “I remember when Lily died your father's grief was deep and hard. However, he told me he didn't believe that I'd shot her, and he held me close, sharing his grief with me.

“When he asked me to come to Hardcross Manor, I believed he wanted to heal the rift between us.”

Richard said, “I was surprised and angry when he told me you were coming, that you were bringing all of them with you. As protection? I remember he smiled and said something about your finally finding yourself another wife—her.” He pointed to Roxanne. “I had written to him about her, you see, told him how your feelings were engaged—with her.

“I'll admit it, when I realized the opportunity presented to me, I knew I could finally make you suffer as my family has suffered, only Roxanne got away from Manners. Bloody hell, she nearly killed him.” He smacked his fist into his palm. “I wish she'd shot him. I didn't know what he intended, I didn't . . .” He shrugged.

Julian said, “When we arrived at the manor, your father called me into his library and spoke to me about my own father, what a fine man he was. I was moved, Richard, since I'd always thought of my father as a foolish, doddering old man, not a man worthy to be loved and respected and admired. I was so very grateful to your father for making my own father come alive for me, showing me the man I had never known. I sensed great caring of your father for mine, and thus for me. I sat down to dinner with you with hope in my heart, but that was my mistake.”

Richard said, “Do you know what he said to me, his only son? He said he'd asked you to Hardcross Manor for me. He said it was time for me to get on with my life, he said I was growing too alone, that I had become obsessed.”

Leah spoke, the first time since coming into the room, her voice flat. “Why did you never marry, Richard? You are thirty-two, are you not?”

Richard said nothing, didn't look at her.

She said quietly, “Your father is right. You never even let yourself get close to another lady because of your obsession with your dead sister—with Lily. And me? Roxanne was right, you searched me out in Yorkshire, and I fell right into your net. You must have believed yourself very smart indeed when I came flying after you to London, moved in with my sister and niece, and told you everything that was said in that household, everything you wanted and needed to know.