Read My Seductive Innocent Online
Authors: Julie Johnstone
Tags: #regency romance, #Regency Historical Romance, #Historical Romance, #Julie Johnstone, #alpha male, #Nobility, #Artistocratic, #Suspenseful Romance
Nathan’s first instinct was to question his aunt’s claim. The woman was rarely nice. But he remembered how he had just unfairly believed the worst in Sophia, and he bit back the acerbic response on the tip of his tongue and shook his head. “That was thoughtful of you, but it seems the wine was poisoned or simply bad.”
“Poisoned?” His aunt snorted. “Don’t be absurd, Scarsdale. Maybe the little tart simply drank too much. You did say her father owned a
tavern
.” She said the word
tavern
with a disdainful tone, as if the place were the breeding ground of sinners.
Clenching and unclenching his teeth, he didn’t speak until he knew he could do so without yelling. “I think perhaps it’s best if you leave in the morning.” One jaded person in this house was far more than Sophia deserved. There was no need for her to have to put up with him
and
his aunt.
“Leave?” An incredulous look passed across her face. “How do you purport to make your new duchess into a lady such as me without my help?”
“I don’t mean to make her into a lady anything like you, Aunt.”
Her face flushed and she turned on her heel, but he caught her at the elbow. “Who poured the wine and took it to Sophia?”
“The Madeira was poured by the butler,” she snapped.
The last thing he saw as he turned on his heel and left his aunt was her gaping jaw.
N
athan located his butler, who had been in his employ for twelve years, and after questioning him, he bade Gibson to show him the Madeira decanter he’d used to prepare Sophia’s drinks. Nathan smelled the Madeira and all seemed well, but then he decided to taste it, despite Gibson’s protest and offer to taste it himself. Nathan was a large man, more than twice Sophia’s size and weight. If the wine had not killed her, it was not about to kill him, and he would not rest easy until he knew, without a doubt, if she had been poisoned. He swigged the glass down and then stormed to the courtyard to speak with the other servants.
From ten to midnight, Nathan personally interrogated each servant. Then, from midnight until the sun started to rise the next day, he oversaw his staff as they checked the entire stock of the kitchens. They uncovered nothing untoward. By the time the sun was fully in the morning sky, he still had not experienced the slightest signs of illness from the Madeira, so he ruled the spirits out as the culprit.
Whatever had made Sophia sick, he could not determine, but he was damn sure going to see Sir Richard as soon as he returned to London and hire him to uncover not only the men who were after him but also whoever did this to Sophia. Until then, he would instruct his staff to be on their guard for any strangers, and he’d instruct a footman to keep a watchful eye on Sophia in his absence. He didn’t want her going
anywhere
alone. The idea of her dying made his stomach roil.
As he trudged up the stairs to Sophia’s bedchamber, he considered how wrongly he’d judged her. He wanted to make up for it, yet he wasn’t sure how to do it. He sat down in the chair he had placed beside the bed last night so he could properly watch her, and he gazed at her innocent, sleeping face.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” Harry said. Nathan looked up at the sound of the boy’s voice and saw him shuffling into Sophia’s bedchamber as he rubbed his eyes with his fists.
Nathan smiled at the fact that Harry had not stuttered once when uttering the greeting and that the boy didn’t hesitate to show himself into his sister’s room. Though it was absolutely improper, Nathan couldn’t bring himself to scold the boy. He rather envied him. It was obvious how comfortable and secure Harry felt with Sophia, who really was the boy’s surrogate mother, something with which Nathan was unfamiliar.
He silently motioned to Sophia as she slept. He stood as quietly as possible and waved Harry out the door. The boy had no idea what had occurred last night, and Nathan intended to fill him in and also to explain that they would leave within the week for Eton. Nathan was anxious to get to London to see Sir Richard, but he wanted to ensure Sophia was completely well before departing.
Once in the hall, he knelt down so he could look Harry in the face. “Your sister was very ill last night, but she is going to be perfect when she wakes up.”
“Oh. That makes sense. Sophia didn’t appear in my room this morning.”
Nathan frowned. “Were you expecting her?”
Harry grinned. “I was expecting a gift.”
“A gift?”
The boy nodded vigorously. “’Tis the Christmastide season, Your Grace! Sophia always gives me one gift on each of the seven days leading up to Christmas.”
“Does she now? Well, what sort of gifts does she give you?” His heart constricted and the desire to please Sophia filled him.
“Well...” Harry scratched his head. “I can’t remember everything, but last year I got a new pair of socks. I didn’t love those because that don’t seem too exciting, but Sophia said since Frank was such a blackguard and didn’t care if my feet were warm or not, she had to ensure they were.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Nathan agreed, wondering what Sophia had sacrificed to get Harry the socks.
“She also gave me a book and made me learn to read it real good.”
“A very wise gift and a most judicious endeavor,” Nathan said, his heart aching in his chest, much to his surprise.
“On Christmas Day she was going to give me a coat,” Harry stated.
“
Was
going to give you?”
“Frank found out she’d been hiding some money for the coat, and h-he gave her a right proper whipping and took it all.”
Nathan had the sudden urge to hunt Frank down and give the man a blow for each one he’d ever given Sophia, mental and physical.
“She cried and cried.”
“Over the whipping?” Nathan said, his voice suddenly low and throbbing. He tried to clear his throat but something felt lodged in it.
Harry shook his head. “Naw. She took Frank’s whippings without so much as a blink. She cried ’cause I didn’t have no coat.”
Christ.
She was good, wonderfully kind, and caring. He swallowed against the hard lump in his throat. “She cried
because
you didn’t have
a
coat. If you are going to be an Eton man you must endeavor to speak proper English.”
Harry nodded.
Nathan stood and contemplated the thoughts swirling in his head. He’d not celebrated Christmas since he was six when his mother had decreed he didn’t deserve to, but this Christmas he wanted to celebrate it for Sophia’s and Harry’s sakes. He glanced down at the child, who was staring back up at him. “I have an idea. Let’s surprise your sister. Shall we decorate the house and make it festive for Christmastide?”
Harry grinned. “Yes! And let’s buy her a gift for each day before Christmas!”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Nathan agreed, feeling his cheeks pull into an answering grin. “I shall go out this afternoon and purchase the first gift.”
Harry tugged on Nathan’s trouser leg. “May I stay here until Christmas is over?”
“Certainly. We will postpone our trip until then.”
But no longer than that.
It made him far too uneasy that someone out there wanted him dead. He didn’t fear for himself really. He feared for Sophia and Harry. Sophia had already been put in harm’s way because of it—twice. He tensed, waiting for his gut reaction to shove back at the affection that was tugging at his heart, but it didn’t come. Letting out a breath, the tension released with it, and he smiled.
T
wo days after falling ill, Sophia woke up feeling marvelous. As she sat up and stretched, she noticed a large package at the foot of her bed. She pushed the covers back, crawled toward the package, and picked it up. A sheet of foolscap was folded atop it, with her name written on the outside. She opened the paper and smiled when she saw the signature at the bottom was Nathan’s.
Don’t open this until Mary Margaret has done your hair.
That seemed a strange request, but having never received a present in her life, she was thrilled to do whatever the instructions demanded. Grinning at the carefree feeling in her heart, she jumped out of bed to summon Mary Margaret and struggled for the next half hour to sit patiently as her lady’s maid fixed her hair.
Her mind was racing with what might be in the package, but from the looks of it, it certainly appeared to be large enough to hold a gown. And it would make sense for him to request she have her hair done, if that was, in fact, her gift. The rest of the gowns from Madame Lexington should be done by now, and Sophia really did want something lovely to put on to see Nathan for the first time since she’d taken ill. Mary Margaret had told her that Nathan had found her almost unconscious in that scandalous night rail Madame Lexington had created. She also knew that he had sat by her bedside two nights in a row to make sure her condition did not worsen, and she wanted more than anything to be the duchess Nathan deserved. Her love for him was so powerful it felt as if it would burst her heart. She may never be a grand beauty, but she would make sure she was as presentable as possible.
Sophia turned in her chair, regarded her reflection in the looking glass, and smiled. Her dark hair curled softly against her skin, which actually looked more creamy than sallow. Her eyes seemed bright and rather sparkly, and Mary Margaret had crushed some berries and dabbed the juice on her lips to stain them. She puckered her dark-ruby lips and giggled. “Do I look presentable?”
“You look lovely, Your Grace. It’s hard to believe you were so sick. You look the picture of health.”
Sophia stood and retrieved the package from the bed. “Hopefully, Nathan will not remember how I disgraced myself and how awful I must have looked.”
Mary Margaret clicked her tongue and scowled, which she quickly corrected. It only flittered briefly across her face, but Sophia caught her maid’s disgruntled look. “What is it?”
“If I may be so bold to speak plainly?” the maid inquired, which made Sophia want to laugh. Several weeks ago, Mary Margaret would have been considered above Sophia in the social classes, and now the maid was asking permission to speak openly with her.
“You never need to ask permission for such things. Just do so.”
The maid shook her head. “I couldn’t do that, but I appreciate your saying it. You are a true lady, and it’s not you who should worry that you disgraced yourself, but your husband.”
Irritation filled her that Mary Margaret would dare criticize Nathan after her maid had told her that he had sat by her side all night and forewent sleep. “Why would you say that?” she demanded, her words clipped, though she tried to make them come out smooth.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” Mary Margaret rushed out. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” The woman wrung her hands together.
“Well, you did, so I suppose you better speak your piece.”
“It’s just when he first found you ill, he accused you of being foxed and he left you in here after depositing you on the bed as though you meant nothing to him. And as good and kind as you are...” She shook her head. “It just made me so mad for you. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”
Sophia’s stomach twisted. Nathan had thought her deep in her cups? Whyever would he think such a thing? Was it because of Frank’s poor habits? Was Nathan worried she would follow in Frank’s footsteps? Her first inclination was to feel sadness, but then her temper started to simmer. How dare he assume she would have the same problem! “I’m glad you told me.”
When she saw Mr. High and Mighty she was going to tell him a thing or two about what sort of person she was. She ripped open the box, tore the tissue away, and gasped. Lying on a bed of soft white tissue was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. She ran a gentle finger down the emerald-green velvet, then over the cream ermine collar, and swallowed hard.
“There must be some mistake,” she said. “I didn’t order any such gown.”
Mary Margaret reached into the box and scooped out the gown, then held it up and shook out the folds. The material billowed to the floor in a luxurious wave. “I’ve never seen anything so exquisite in my life,” the maid whispered. “Look here.” She pointed at the intricate white lace sewn into the edges of the long sleeves. “I’ve never seen a day gown with lace sewn into it.”