My Seductive Innocent (10 page)

She jumped as if someone had stuck her with a fire poker. Nathan flicked his eyes to the door. The man sauntering into the room filled his mouth with sour distaste. He had flinty blue eyes—shockingly the color of Sophia’s—that were locked on Nathan. The closer the man came, the more repugnant the heavy stench of body odor mingled with stale liquor grew, until Nathan felt his brow furrow, which he immediately smoothed. The man’s midnight hair hung in long, limp strands to graze his shoulders. He paused beside Sophia and threw his arm over her shoulder.

The slight tremor of her body would likely have gone unnoticed by most people, but Nathan had developed a habit as a young lad to try to read his mother’s moods by watching for the slightest movements a person made. They often told something of what one was feeling. Sophia was repulsed by this man, who had to be her father, if their resemblance was any indication. A shaft of pity gripped him, which made him tense. Why was it this woman he barely knew affected him when others didn’t?

“It’s good to see ye alert, Yer Grace.”

“Likewise,” Nathan responded, guessing by the smell of this man that he was usually quite inebriated. The man’s sun-weathered brow filled with deep creases of confusion while, beside him, Sophia bit down on her lip to keep from smiling. Nathan found that he hoped she’d lose the fight to appear indifferent to his comment and her face would light with that lovely smile, but she darted her gaze to her father and all traces of her amusement vanished, causing a fierce surge of anger in Nathan. Obviously, this man was not good to her.

The man finally smiled, and Nathan barely resisted the urge to tell him to stop. It was hard to believe one mouth could possess so many rotted teeth, but the truth was grinning at him.

“I’m Frank Vane, and this is my tavern yer recoverin’ in.”

Nathan glanced at Sophia for confirmation that this thing before him was indeed her father. She met his gaze, and her cheeks pinked a bit before she nodded.

“I’m grateful,” he said simply, knowing he need say no more. The man had greed shining in his eyes. It wouldn’t be long before he asked for money. Nathan fully intended to give him some for the use of the bedroom and for allowing his daughter to care for him when he no doubt would normally have had her working downstairs. Perhaps twenty pounds? That would be a fortune to this man. And Nathan would privately give more to Sophia directly. He suspected she could use it.

“I’m glad to hear yer grateful. The question is how grateful are ye.”

“Frank!” The one word uttered from Sophia’s lips sounded like a plea.

Frank patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “Get yerself to town and fetch me some bread at the store. We’re out.”

“Please, Frank―”

“Go on, girl. If yer lucky maybe ye’ll see yer brother if he’s in from workin’.”

Nathan had seen the faces of many angry women in his life, but Sophia looked as if she wanted to murder her father. Her blue eyes turned to ice and a mask of cold anger hardened her exquisite bones until she looked as if her expression had been carved from a glacier.

“I’ll be going, then,” she said through clenched teeth as her gaze found Nathan’s. “When I return you’ll hopefully be awake so I may speak with you, so I can―”

“Girl,” Frank warned, “ye better go or else yer gonna miss yer opportunity to see yer beloved brother.”

Nathan watched as her jaw tightened and a tick began. Whatever Sophia was she was not a woman without inner strength. He could practically feel her gathering her self-control to keep calm. The question was why? What the devil was occurring here?

Sophia nodded stiffly and started to turn away, but as she did, Nathan grabbed her hand, compelled by a strange need to ease whatever was bothering her. She glanced down at his hand, then over at him.

He released her and offered a slight smile. “I’m not tired at all, so I’m sure I’ll be awake.” He had many questions he wanted to ask her, not the least of which was how the devil she’d managed to drive his curricle and what had happened to the other man who was trying to kill them. Uncertain how much she had revealed to her father, and not wanting to say anything that may cause her trouble, he instead said, “I wrongly judged you.”

She blinked at him, her wary gaze skittering to her father, then back to him. “How so, Your Grace?”

“You saved me, and not a single nefarious trap on my person has been sprung. My apologies and compliments.”

A momentary look of discomfort crossed her face that, on any other woman, he would have assumed meant they had just not sprung their intended trap
yet
, but he couldn’t summon the desire to be so cynical about her. Maybe it was the brush with death, or perhaps it was the fact that she had saved his life, but whatever it was, he decided she was simply embarrassed by his accolades.

With a nod of her head, she turned on her heel and fled out the door. As the door shut, Vane gave him another rotted-toothed grin. “She’s not much of a looker but her mama was the same when her age. She grew to be a beauty. Sophia will, too.”

“I assume you are going somewhere with this dialogue,” Nathan said, disliking the way the man disparaged his own daughter.

Vane nodded. “My girl saved yer life, Yer Grace. Did ye know that?”

“I suspected,” Nathan replied, irritation making his jaw twitch slowly.

“She drove ye here from the woods the night ye was shot, and she insisted in front of me and a packed tavern that she personally care for ye upstairs in this bedroom.”

“Did she? Seems a rather unwise thing to say in front of a room full of people. Such a statement could damage a reputation that I imagine already hangs precariously between passable and ruined, considering who you are.”

“Jest what are ye sayin’?” Vane demanded, spit flying out of his mouth.

“I’m saying,” Nathan replied in slow, punctuated words, “that given your daughter’s circumstances, I imagine she has to strive
not
to be labeled as ruined, and she seems far too intelligent not to realize this and do something as stupid as announcing to a tavern of men that she was going to personally care for a man.”

Vane nodded his head. “That’s exactly what I told her. But she insisted she care for you special, and when Mrs. Dalton came here―”

“Who?” Nathan interrupted. If he was going to momentarily be a participant in this travesty he preferred to know all the details.

“The town’s biggest gossip,” Vane said.

“Naturally,” Nathan replied, the twitch in his jaw increasing in speed. “And the town gossip was here because...?”

“Sophia fetched her,” Vane said matter-of-factly.

“Indeed. That makes perfect sense for your daughter to insist the town gossip be fetched to witness her ruination.” The man was a liar through and through.

Vane leaned in. “Do ye really think so? I told her I didn’t think it was wise. Especially seein’ as how, after Mrs. Dalton got here, she told Sophia no decent lady would have removed yer shirt to care for ye and been standin’ in the room alone with ye.”

Nathan clenched his teeth together to stop his twitch before he could speak. “How much money do you require to repair your daughter’s reputation?”

The man had quite the acting skills. He actually perfected looking offended. Nathan didn’t know whether to laugh or commend him.

“I cannot take yer money.”

“That’s surprising,” Nathan said dully.

Vane frowned momentarily before his eyes widened. “What I mean is money cannot repair the silly girl’s reputation. I give ye that she should have known better, but she has a huge heart and didn’t care enough about herself while ye was hurt. The only thing that will help my girl is yer marryin’ her.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.” He allowed the cold fury building inside of him to clip each word.

Vane scowled. “No man with any honor would knowingly allow a lady’s reputation to be ruined.”

“I’m afraid you’ve grossly misjudged me, Vane. I may be a duke, but I’m no fool. And if you think to try to force me to marry your daughter with talk of honor, you are mistaken. I’m not that honorable.” The words, and the consequences to Sophia if what Vane said about the townsfolk thinking she was ruined was true, pricked at him.

“Ye’ve got to marry her,” Vane demanded, spittle once again flying from his mouth.

Nathan stared at the man until he started to squirm. “Point in fact, Mr. Vane, I do not have to marry your daughter. There is no law that compels me to do so, and I cannot think of a person that would try to force my hand, unless...” He smiled slowly, baring his lip away from his teeth bit by bit. He knew it made him look ferocious and rather evil. Aversley had told him so, and Aversley wasn’t one to lie. “If you are trying to tell me you wish to demand retribution on the field of honor, I’ll be happy to oblige. I prefer the pistol; it’s the weapon I use most frequently, but I am adept with the rapier, too, though something about sliding the metal into flesh makes my teeth grind. Or at least it has on the occasions I’ve been compelled to do so.”

Vane’s eyes bulged. “How many duels have ye fought?”

Nathan smiled lazily. “How long do you have to stand here while I list them?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Vane’s left temple. The man wiped it away with shaking hands. The tremor was probably a result of too much drink. Nathan pounced on the weakness with glee. A man who thought to unrightfully force another’s hand deserved no quarter. “I’ve been trained by the best marksman in the country, as well as the best swordsman, but I do believe it’s the dozens of duels I’ve been compelled to participate in that have truly honed my skills. Tell me, Vane, what training do you have?”

“None,” the man muttered.

Nathan did not hold back the smile that crooked his lips this time. “None?”

Vane shook his head.

Nathan frowned. “How many duels have you fought?”

The man moved his jaw back and forth before answering. “None.”

“Oooh.”
Nathan allowed the word to drag out long and slow. “That’s unfortunate.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh for a moment. “I’ll tell you what, since you were so generous as to allow me to recover in your guest bedchamber and to fetch the physician when I needed him, I will give you a two-second advantage when we duel.”

“When we duel?”
the man practically bellowed. “I never agreed to no duel. This here conversation has got all flummoxed.”

“Has it?” Nathan raised his eyebrows. “It must be my misunderstanding. What is it you said you wanted from me?”

Vane rubbed the back of his neck as he darted his gaze around the room and then let out a disgruntled sigh. “Amends for Sophia’s ruined reputation. No decent man will want her now that the town thinks she’s soiled by ye.”

Not that a decent man would have wanted her in the first place, given her family,
Nathan thought. Pity stirred in him again, which was irritating as hell. Pity would be his downfall if he wasn’t careful. His instinct was to go before he got more embroiled in this ridiculousness, but he couldn’t go without seeing her, talking to her, and ensuring she would indeed be all right. Her father might be a snake, but it was clear she hadn’t condoned his plan.

Why, damn it? Why not just go?

You like her.
The thought rankled and shock made him momentarily speechless. He did like her. She was a funny, sharp-witted, bright-eyed slip of a thing, and she deserved better than the life she had. He would find her, make sure she was going to be fine, and then he would give her a monetary reward for helping him.

He glanced around the room, located his breeches, overcoat, and hessians by a chair, and then he eyed Vane, who was staring at him expectantly. “For your daughter’s efforts in saving my life I’ll give you twenty pounds, but that is all you will get from me.” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “You can either graciously accept the money or argue, which will get you nothing. What you will never possess is my name for your daughter. Am I understood?”

The man nodded with a scowl.

“Excellent. I require a shirt and the location of your daughter.”

“What for?” Vane demanded with a furrowed brow.

“Because I am departing this deplorable place today and I cannot go about shirtless.” Damn the physician’s advice that he rest awhile longer. It would be impossible to relax enough to recuperate here.

“I don’t have no fancy shirts.”

“Any shirt will do,” Nathan replied.

“All right,” Vane grumbled. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Knock before you enter.” Nathan intended to be dressed when the man returned. He didn’t care to continue remaining virtually unclothed while speaking with Vane.

After the door shut, Nathan swung his legs over the bed and stood. He’d been out of bed to use the chamber pot several times, so he felt relatively steady, especially since the laudanum was now out of his body, but as he struggled into his clothes, his shoulder started to throb and sweat dampened his brow. By the time he had his breeches and boots on, he was clenching his teeth so hard against the pain that his jaw felt numb. If only his shoulder felt similarly. It ached as if someone had poured liquid fire on it. Driving his curricle was going to be painful and difficult, but he didn’t damn well care. At the loud knock on the door, he bade Vane to enter.

“Yer shirt, Yer Grace.”

Nathan eyed the darkly stained shirt and assumed it had once been white. He took the garment, as repulsive as it was, and struggled into it, just barely resisting the urge to rip it from his body when he got a whiff of the foul stench of body odor that had seeped into the material. Going without a shirt in public, especially to locate and privately talk to Sophia, was not an option. He refused to contribute in any way to helping Vane’s scheme along. If it was as Nathan suspected, the man was greatly exaggerating Sophia’s predicament, so there was no need to turn that lie to fact.

“Now, where is your daughter?” Nathan demanded as he pulled the shirt over his head and put himself in some semblance of order. His shoulder seemed to pulsate with every move he made, and it took a great amount of concentration not to groan in agony. Showing weakness was not an option, either. It never was.