Chapter 14 #2
“Sophia?”
“That is all? There is no other information? Do you suspect someone is doing this deliberately?” She would not look at him.
Richard’s chest tightened. His wife was an intelligent woman, but it was his responsibility to protect her.
He brought this into their lives, and he would solve it without burdening her with unnecessary fear.
“I do not know, but I will have it investigated. The guardsmen will continue to protect you and Ethan until I am certain there is no further threat.” He reached out a hand to cover her fingers.
“Please, Sophia. I apologize you are being exposed to these situations. Know that I had a very different idea of how we would begin this marriage, and I have every intention of setting this right, so you and Ethan are safe.”
What a confusing muddle of ideas. He knew he was alluding to a threat, but then pretending there was no cause for alarm in the same breath.
The evening had begun as a smashing success and collapsed into disaster.
His nose was throbbing, he had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and his temper still ran hot because he had wanted to pound Stanford into the theatre carpeting after the man surprised him with a sudden punch to the face.
He wished to take a hot bath and join his wife in her bed.
It was yet another dreadful day—and night—at Balfour Terrace, and the constant fear for his family with no specific target to attack was keeping his nerves on edge.
Not to mention, he was lying awake at night trying to work out the most likely source of the menace in their lives.
He did not want to talk; he wanted to cut off the endless thoughts running through his head while the investigation into the source of all this pandemonium proceeded.
Sophia turned her face back, scrutinizing him. She gave a deep sigh. “I will leave the matter to you, but know that I am here and ready to discuss anything you need to discuss.”
He gave a nod. “First thing is to summon the doctor. Then we should rest.”
She turned her hand to clasp his. “That sounds lovely.”
Richard bathed while they awaited the doctor’s arrival.
It soon turned out his face was badly bruised, but his nose was intact.
He had suspected this was the case, but he allowed the doctor to be summoned as a small mercy to his wife.
She appeared relieved at the doctor’s pronouncement and agreed that it was time to go to bed.
He undressed with the help of Shaw before donning his nightclothes and robe to join Sophia in her chambers.
When he entered her rooms and saw her lying in the bed, the light playing across her face and golden-red hair, he experienced a moment of revelation not for the first time since he had met her.
Sophia was an angel. He would do anything to defend this woman, who had come to mean so much to him.
He had been a fool when he denied his love to Halmesbury, because in that moment he knew his heart would stop beating in his chest if anything happened to her because of him.
Just as he knew, he was not worthy of such a woman.
She brought peace and grace to his home, where he had only ever brought fallen women and pursued his own selfish pleasures.
It was no longer about hiding his shame.
It had become about proving himself worthy of her so that she might one day grow to love the gentleman he aspired to be and not the rascal he currently was.
One day, he would be worthy of the title husband—and father—and until that day came, he would not rest in ensuring he completed his reparations and uncovered the threat that was plaguing their household.
This was his duty to take care of, and until he did so, he was not worthy of earning her love.
Mercy! Maybe he needed a drink to clear his head of these maudlin thoughts?
Stuff! No, he was reforming and this small request from his wife was the only one he could currently honor. He must bear the burden of his past actions and soldier on, one step at a time.
His wife raised her head. “Are you coming?”
To his relief, she seemed in a lighter mood than she had been since the predicament at the Drury Lane Theatre. When he approached, she drew a deep breath and blurted out a question.
“Do you think there will be another caricature of what happened with Lord Stanford?”
Richard threw his head back and groaned. “I guess that would be better than the last one. Mayhap it will distract the gossips from Ethan?”
She furrowed her brow in thought. “That is a good point. Well, in that case, I hope there is another print!”
They chuckled together while he disrobed and pulled back the covers to slip into her bed. She turned onto her side, a hand tucked under her cheek. “It is good to laugh about it. I now look forward to another illustration depicting the infamous Balfours.”
Richard smiled softly, pleased to see Sophia so at ease.
She had been growing more comfortable in their marriage, and moments like this made him realize how deeply he valued her presence.
When she lifted a hand and traced her fingers lightly over his chin, following the contours of his jaw, Richard sighed in contentment.
Her fingers traveled over his bruised face, lingering as if committing them to memory.
Sophia’s sweet tenderness, mixed with the admiration shining in her eyes, called to something deep and primal within him.
He stayed still, letting her explore at her leisure, feeling a quiet sense of awe at the tenderness in her touch.
This was different from any connection he had experienced before.
Her sincerity, her focus on him as a man, filled a space in his heart he hadn’t realized was empty.