Chapter 17 #2
After a few minutes contemplating the terror of this night, he stood up to make his way over to the Woods’ residence, his carriage waiting for him when he exited the front door.
When he reached the Mayfair home of Lady Wood, he found Sophia waiting for him alone in a drawing room with an untouched cup of tea on the table in front of her. She jumped up when he entered the room, running over to fling herself into his embrace.
Richard wrapped his arms around her, grateful that she was safe and alive while he rested his cheek on the crown of her head and breathed deeply the scent of roses.
“Richard, I cannot believe what you did. My heart stopped when the two of you tumbled to the floor. I thought you were dead!”
“Who would bring trouble into your life, then?”
Sophia pulled back to look up at him. “The trouble does not concern me. I need you alive.”
Richard let her go, pulling back to walk over and drop onto one of the rickety, elegant sofas, which juddered under his weight. “I do not see why. I have brought nothing but pandemonium and peril into your life. You were more protected before you married me.”
His heart squeezed in agony at the deep silence following his pronouncement. After many moments, he heard her light footsteps approaching. She sat down on the sofa beside him and reached out a hand to cover his.
“We are both exhausted and I can no longer think straight, husband. But please know my relief that you survived is most profound. Could we go home to rest and then we can discuss things in the morning?”
Richard bobbed his head. He could not deny that in the aftermath, his body was heavy with weariness. He had forgotten to rid himself of the jacket, and the smell of blood aggravated his senses.
“How is Lady Wood?”
“She had a strong drink to steady herself, then confided in me,” Sophia said quietly, her voice faltering.
“She showed me bruises hidden beneath her garments. Before retiring, she asked me to thank you. She believes you saved her life tonight. Lord Wood had not allowed her to leave their home without him for weeks—she has been trapped in that townhouse since March. Some of the bruises … they were older, and …”
Sophia broke off, her composure wavering under the weight of what she had witnessed.
Richard grimaced, his jaw tightening, and drew her gently into his arms, offering comfort as she fought to steady herself.
“Do not fret, Sophia. I will visit Lady Wood and ensure she is well taken care of. And I will have Johnson look into her circumstances to ensure that proper provisions were made for her. Hopefully, her father negotiated good terms for the eventuality of her bereavement.”
Tears welled to slip down her smooth cheeks. She turned her head into his shoulder and flung her arms around him in a tight embrace. “I am such a watering pot tonight.”
Richard gave her a squeeze and rose to his feet, holding out a hand to her. “Let us go so we can get some rest.”
Sophia clung to Richard the entire night.
Each time he stirred, he found her form draped over him in different angles as if she could not bear to let him go.
It warmed the depths of his soul where he still sought to come to terms with the fact that he had taken the life of a man he barely knew.
Nothing could prepare a man for such an event.
However, if he had to do it again, he would not hesitate to protect the woman who was lying in his arms, emitting a bleating snore from the awkward angle her head tilted so that she could nestle into his shoulder.
Carefully unwrapping her arms, he eased her onto her side, ensuring her neck was not cricked. He curved his arm around her sleeping form and went back to sleep, content to lie in bed with Sophia for the entire day if he could.
It was early afternoon when Richard and Sophia finally arose. Dressed in their nightclothes and robes, they ate breakfast from trays at the table near Sophia’s window, too wrung out from the night before to bother with dressing or going downstairs to break their fast.
Once Sophia had swallowed down her eggs, sipped on her tea, and sat quietly contemplating the garden from her window, she broke their deep silence.
“May I see the note now?”
Richard huffed in mild amusement. He swallowed down his toast—he was surprised how ravenous he had been when the meal arrived—before rising to walk into his rooms.
After several minutes of searching, he found the note folded neatly with his things in a drawer of his bureau and returned.
Sitting down across from his wife, he stared at her for a while. She looked beautiful with her tousled red-blonde hair, her large eyes weary but prismatic with striations of light and dark blues reflected in their depths. And, more importantly, she was beauty itself because she was alive.
“I planned to talk with you when you returned last night. I wanted to apologize. Now I find I have more to apologize for.”
“Apologize?”
“I thought about what you said, and I realized you were right. I should have included you in what was happening. Instead, I treated you like a child.”
“More like a weak-minded female.”
“From the moment I overheard you on the terrace disparaging society, I knew you were strong and independent. I admire you greatly, and I have never thought of you as weak-minded. Only a fool would overlook your presence of mind and strength.”
She gazed at him, a smile of joy playing on her lips. “Thank you.”
“I should have told you about the note. Halmesbury told me I should tell you about the note. I was foolish to hide it from you, but it had nothing to do with my thoughts on you and everything to do with how I felt about myself. I was ashamed to have exposed my wife and my son because my selfish nature angered someone to this degree. And the note does not cast me in a favorable light.” He grimaced.
“Not that I deserve to be cast that way.”
Sophia nodded. “I understand. I was on my way to find you and apologize, too.”
Richard felt his jaw drop in astonishment. “What could you have to apologize for?”
“My cousin Lily had the audacity to point out that I had been testing you rather than be honest. Most men in my life have been a source of disappointment. I agreed to marry you with the best of intentions, but proceeded to be cautious and guarded with you. I did not confront you, but rather stewed in my anger that I was proven correct. Lily asked me if I would prefer we complain together about how men are terrible, or for her to advise me to take control over my situation. She made fine points. You are not comparable to my father. Look at what you did on behalf of our household. You were present, and you acted. You asked me to be patient with you, but I was not.”
Sophia was flushed with the force of her opinions. She looked magnificent.
He coughed into his hand, unsure how to respond. “I cannot say I agree. Perhaps I need to understand more about your family history. I appreciate the thought you have put into … us, I guess.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Thank you.”
Richard glanced down at the note in his hand.
“Please do not think less of me.” He held the note out for her to take, then dropped his gaze down to stare at his hands.
Working up his nerve, he finally said what had been in his heart for the past few days.
“I have come to realize that marrying you was the most important decision I ever made. Sophia, I … I love you.”
Deep silence followed. He waited, but she had nothing to say.
I made a mistake! I told her before she is ready!
More silence continued. Finally, he found the courage to look up and confront her reaction to his proclamation, but he found Sophia frozen, white as a sheet, staring at the note in her hand.
“What is?—”
The door to the hall flung open, banging on the wall as Perry rushed into the room. “Brother! Lord Stanford gave me the name of the man who lied to him about your attachment to Lady Partridge! It is Cecil Hayward.”
“Cecil? I do not know any Cecil.”
“But you do know a Hayward.” Perry jerked his head in the direction of the woman sitting behind him. Richard’s brow furrowed, and he turned around to find his wife staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.
“The note … it is written in my brother’s hand.
He has attempted to disguise it, but … Cecil …
he is sly but not intelligent. Too many years of hard drink have addled his brain.
He used his customary stroke through the o.
The trouble plaguing your household … I brought this to your doorstep. This is all my fault!”