Chapter Twenty- Seven
Chapter Twenty- Seven
The ride back to the house was long and solemn, but Benedict held on to the uncertainty that Sophie was not in the carriage, and that Bradford had not been able to find her.
When they rode up to the house, Benedict jumped from his horse and started shouting Sophie’s name as he ran up the stairs into the house.
Charles sighed heavily. “Do you think there is a chance she wasn’t taken by Bradford as we were told?”
Davenport looked down to the ground before answering. “I would like to think so, but from previous experiences I have had, I would say she perished in the crash, and her body drifted downstream before we could reach her.”
“Why did you give him false hope then?”
Davenport’s eyes narrowed as he pondered the question. “Because he is my friend. We have been through a lot together, and it has been less than a year since I almost lost Abigail. If there was even the smallest possibility that she would survive, I would have wanted to have that to cling to… until I didn’t anymore.”
Charles looked down at the bodies of Harrison’s men. “Let’s get this taken care of before Isobel returns. I don’t want her to come back and see this.”
Davenport nodded in agreement. “I will also send word to Harrison. These are his men, and he will want to be notified as soon as possible.”
Benedict tore through the house calling her name. He had searched every room, every closet, all while calling out for her. As the minutes passed by, his one glimmer of hope started to fade. Other scenarios crossed his mind. What if Bradford had taken Sophie and hid her somewhere before the accident? There were hundreds of places she could be and with both Pettigrew and Bradford dead, he had no idea where to search first. He moved down the stairs into the study. There was a decanter of brandy and glasses on the table by the settee. He slowly walked over to it and poured a glass. As he sipped the liquor, the image of Sophie’s face floated into his mind.
With a rage he had never felt before he flung the glass against the wall shattering it into pieces. This was his fault. He brought her into his world and now she was gone, taken from him. The rage almost consumed him. He picked up the other glass and threw it, along with anything else he could get his hands on.
Charles and Davenport ran into the room to see him pick up the decanter and drink straight from it. Charles stepped forward but Davenport held out his hand stopping him.
Benedict turned to stare at his friends, then took another drink. He knew the only thing that could dull the pain he was feeling was brandy, and he was doubtful there was enough in all of England to make him forget.
They watched as he sank into a chair dropping the brandy on the rug. “She isn’t here. That can only mean, he has taken her and hidden her from me, or she is….”
Charles stepped further into the room. “We will search everywhere tomorrow, Kingston. I will send to the village for more men.”
Benedict looked up as Charles approached, his eyes dull and lifeless. “My entire life I have had the Lair, it has been my priority in life. It defined me. I immersed myself in my life there. I always thought that as long as I had the Liar, I wouldn’t want for anything else. I wouldn’t need anything else. No matter what happened in my life, I would always have it. Now, after knowing Sophie, I have learned to think of someone other than myself. I had begun looking to the future, thinking of a life I never imagined I could have. I felt like as long as she was by my side, I could be Kenworth, I could do anything. Now…. with her gone….”
He dropped his head into his hands knowing that this emptiness that he felt would never be filled again. Not if he didn’t have her.
“What the devil has happened?!!”
Both Charles and Davenport turned at the sound of the feminine voice.
Benedict raised his head, not knowing if he had already drunk himself into oblivion or not. But if this was some sort of hallucination, he hoped he never woke from it.
Sophie looked around the room, her eyes widening as she spied her husband sitting before her. Broken glass and furnishings littered all around him. She looked to both Charles and Davenport to see if any of them had an explanation, but they seemed to be reluctant to speak. She came further into the room and gasped softly when she noticed the blood-stained sleeve of his shirt. She rushed forward, the sound of glass crunching beneath her feet, to kneel before him.
“Benedict, what happened? You have been hurt.” She ripped open his shirt and turned to Charles. “For heaven’s sake, what is the matter with you three? He is hurt, go get me some things from the kitchen to clean his wound.”
Benedict narrowed his eyes. He could hear her voice, feel her touch. Did he dare reach out to her? Would she vanish? Was this a dream or an illusion? “Sophie?”
Her name was a whisper on his lips, but her eyes met his. He reached up and placed his hand on her cheek, and his heart began to pound in his chest. He sat up and took her face between his hands. “Sophie? My God, are you real?”
Sophie was beginning to get very concerned. “Benedict, what happened?” She began searching for other injuries. “Did you hit your head?”
At her words, he returned to the present and stood quickly from where he was seated, pulling her up with him and wrapping his arms tightly around her. “My God, Sophie! You’re here! I thought….”
Sophie felt as if he was about to crush her ribs. “Benedict, please. Let me go. I can’t breathe.”
“Never! I am never letting you go again, Sophie.” He crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that held all the emotion and elation he was feeling.
“What on earth happened here?!”
Charles turned at the sound of his wife’s voice. He moved quickly to her, swept her into his arms, and kissed her. “It’s a long story, my love. Let’s give Benedict time with Sophie, and I will explain everything.” He carried his wife from the room, and Davenport followed behind them leaving Sophie alone with her husband.
Benedict placed Sophie back on her feet. He cupped her face with his hands as his eyes roved over her. “My Sophie.” His voice trembled with the words.
Sophie placed her hands over his and removed them from her face. “Please, tell me what happened. What has you behaving as if you haven’t seen me in years, as if I just walked through the door from being presumed lost at sea?” Her brow furrowed as her eyes narrowed.
Benedict led her to the settee and took a seat beside her. “I went to the lodge with Charles this morning. Your brother was there and confirmed that he had been the one to try and kill me, at the behest of my cousin Sebastian Bradford.”
Sophie’s hand went to her throat as her eyes widened. “While I knew it had to be him, I still can’t suppress the shock I feel at him going so far to hurt me.”
Benedict took her hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. “Bradford made him promises that were too enticing to refuse. With me out of the way, my cousin would inherit everything and in return for Pettigrew’s help in seeing me die, he would return to him everything I had taken.”
“Including me, I suppose.”
Benedict turned her face to his. “No! No matter what happens to me, you will never have to worry again, Sophie. I have seen to that. You will never have to depend on anyone.”
“Where is my brother now?”
Benedict took a deep breath. “He is dead. I killed him after he took a shot at me.” He touched the place on his arm where the bullet had grazed a path through his skin.
Sophie closed her eyes and Benedict wondered how deeply she would grieve for her brother.
Sophie opened her eyes and looked at him. “I am so thankful you are safe. So, is it over now?”
“With your brother’s dying breath he told me that Bradford, the other man involved with him, had taken you. He had plans to ransom you.”
He saw her eyes widen, and he took both of her hands in his. “Charles and I rushed back here. When we arrived, the two guards I had left to keep you safe were dead, and the house had been ransacked. I thought he had taken you.”
“Oh my! Is that why you were so upset when I came through the door?”
Benedict shook his head. “No, it’s worse. We tracked the carriage Bradford was driving thinking you were inside. In our attempt to overtake him, the carriage crashed and went over the side of a cliff to the river below. By the time I reached the crash, I couldn’t find you. I thought you had been swept away by the current. I thought you had died in the wreck, Sophie. I thought you were lost to me forever.”
Sophie’s eyes began to swim in tears. “You thought I was dead?”
He nodded. “I held on to the hope that perhaps he had taken you and hidden you somewhere until he could demand a ransom and that you weren’t in the carriage, but even that thought terrified me. If you were alive, would I ever be able to find you?” He pulled her into him. “My God, Sophie. I can’t be without you. The thought that I had lost you was terrifying…I don’t want to live without you. Nothing matters to me but you, not the Lair, not the dukedom…nothing.”
Sophie felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Well, there is something else. Something we need to talk about. Especially now that the threat has gone.”
Benedict pulled away slightly. “No, Sophie. You are all I need. I don’t want to ever feel the way I felt today. I don’t care about the agreement we made when we first embarked on our marriage. I was a fool to ever think I could be without you, and if you have any thoughts of going your own way or living separate lives, you can put those out of your pretty little head right now. I will never allow it!”
Sophie bit her bottom lip to keep her grin at bay. “I’m afraid it’s too late. You will have to learn to share me. There is someone else.”
Benedict’s face turned serious. “If you think for one minute that I will allow Warrick or anyone else to take you from me after the hell I have suffered here today thinking you lost forever, you had better think again. You are mine Sophie, and I have no intention of sharing you with anyone!”
Sophie could no longer hide her smile. “Not even a baby?”
Benedict narrowed his eyes. “What are you trying to say to me, Sophie?”
“The reason I was not here when your evil cousin came here to try and kidnap me is because I went into the village to see a doctor. The reason I have been so tired and unable to hold much food down is not because of stress or fear, it’s because I’m going to have a baby.”
Benedict stared at her as if he couldn’t hear or understand what she was trying to say.
Sophie’s smile slipped. “Benedict? Are you not happy?”
Suddenly his arms were about her again, and Sophie felt it hard to breathe.
Benedict kissed her as if he were starving for her, as if he couldn’t get enough and he supposed he couldn’t. She was his, and she was here, safe and happy.
Davenport left early the next morning to return the bodies of Harrison’s men to their families and brief Harrison on what had occurred. Charles had talked to the local constable and together they had retrieved Sophie’s brother’s body from the lodge as well as Bradford’s body. Both Charles and Benedict made it known that they wanted everything to be kept quiet and the constable readily agreed. Benedict didn’t want any scandal attached to Sophie and the quicker this was behind them the better. They had buried Pettigrew in the family cemetery next to his father and mother with no fanfare, not that he deserved any.
Later that evening, they shared their happy news with Charles and Bella as well as their plans to return to London. The next day Charles and Bella left to journey on to Avanley Hall.
As Sophie watched their carriage roll out of sight, Benedict wrapped his arms around her waist gently. “When we arrive in London, I will have my solicitor hire a proper staff for the house, and we will see the estate here returned to its’ former glory.”
Sophie turned in his arms. “Thank you, but this is no longer home to me. I much prefer Kenworth House in London, and I am eager to travel to Kenworth Park. It’s time for you to make an appearance there and take your rightful place. Especially now that you no longer have someone trying to take it away from you.”
Benedict kissed her forehead. “We will travel there as soon as we leave London. There are some things I need to handle at The Lair before we retire to the country life.”
A Week Later
The Devil’s Lair, London
Benedict opened the door of his apartments at the Lair for his wife as she swept inside. He watched as she moved about the room, and he was taken back to the night she came to him to plead for her dilapidated little abbey. So much had changed since that night, and there was so much in their future.
He moved behind her letting his hands rest on her shoulders before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
“Sophie, I want to talk to you about something.”
She spun around and her dazzling smile nearly took his breath away. “What is it, my love?”
“I’m thinking of selling The Devil’s Lair.”
He saw her smile leave her face and her cheeks pale slightly. This was not the reaction he expected. She took a step closer to him. “No.”
He arched his eyebrows at her curt tone. “No?”
“Absolutely not. I can’t believe you would even think such a thing.”
He tilted his head to the side. “I thought you would be happy. With my responsibilities as the Duke of Kenworth, I don’t have as much time as I used to, and I find myself much preferring to be at home with my wife than watching the tables here at The Lair.”
Sophie smiled softly. “I am very pleased that you prefer being in my bed to being here, but the Devil’s Lair is what made you the man you are today, the man I fell in love with. When I came to you that night, not knowing who you really were and imagining the worst, I never expected our lives to become so intertwined.” She stepped out of his embrace and moved toward the bedchamber door. “Besides, I have grown rather fond of the wicked artwork here.”
Benedict watched as she cast him a seductive glance as she backed into the bedchamber expecting him to follow, which he gladly did. Sophie had backed against the bed and cast her eyes up to the ceiling. Benedict followed her gaze and nearly growled as his beautiful wife seductively turned around, bent over, and began removing her stockings.
“Are you putting on a show for me, Sophie?”
He watched as she lifted her skirts to sit on the edge of the bed. “No, I’m simply trying to convince you of the benefits of keeping The Devil’s Lair.”
Benedict moved closer until he was standing between her parted legs. His hands roamed up her smooth thighs while his mouth claimed hers. His fingers parted her folds, and he slipped inside her swallowing the moan that rose from her throat as he caressed her.
“Hmm, you know exactly how to get your way, dear wife.” He bent lower and kissed the tops of her breasts before moving back to her lips. “Tell me, Sophie, what do you want?”
Sophie’s hands moved across the soft fabric of his shirt before she pulled it free from his breeches. “I want to always keep my wicked duke, and I want us to be able to do this anytime we wish.”
His hand reached up to tug her bodice down further. “I happily grant your request, love. As far as being wicked, I’m not sure I know how to do anything else.” With those words, he tossed her skirts higher and pushed her down on the bed so he could have his fill of his beautiful duchess.
Much later, as he held her in their bed, the sounds and chaos of the gaming rooms drifting down into his apartments, he wondered if his life could be any more perfect than it was right now. He supposed the future held the answer to that question, but if he had Sophie, he would meet whatever fate had in store head-on, as long as she was by his side.