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"You're so smart I would have thought you would have already figured out everything. Didn't you just tell me that you understood more than I gave you credit for?"

No, he thought, he wouldn't strip her just yet to see her ribs.

"I don't like the way you're giving orders, Ryder. I'm sorry, you are being nice to Jeremy and me, but after I'm well again, I will see to us. We are not your responsibility and—"

"Shut up, Sophie. You're really quite wearying."

"Go to the devil!"

He grinned at that. "Who was it who told me you were a regular hellion?"

"Some miserable man, I doubt not. Hellion—what nonsense! None of you can bear the thought of a woman making decisions for herself, being respon­sible for herself. You must always rule and order things to your own satisfaction, and you dare to call it protecting her. Well, let me tell you, I won't have it, do—"

"Shut up, Sophie. If you want to expend ire, why, then, let's redirect it. Let's talk about Uncle Theo."

"Is Uncle Theo alive? Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am certain. Your aim wasn't all that good."

"It is not a good thing to stab one's uncle."

"Nor is it a good thing to beat one's niece."

She sighed, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. He studied her in silence for several minutes. Her hair was loosely braided and hung lank and dull over her right shoulder.

"Would you like to bathe? To have your hair washed?"

Her eyes flew open and there was such hope and excitement that he laughed. "Very well, if you finish your breakfast, I will see to it."

She ate everything on her plate and promptly fell asleep. Ryder removed the tray and sat down on the chair beside her bed. What a damnable mess. He realized fully that he was in it up to his neck, perhaps beyond. What he was going to do about it was still unknown. He looked at Sophie—yes, she did look like a Sophie, young and vulnerable and soft. She didn't look like an elegant, cold Sophia. He looked beyond the ugly bruises and saw the fine high cheekbones. Her nose was thin and straight, her eyebrows nicely arched and slanted, her lashes thick. Perhaps in another time, in another place, in different circumstances, he would have taken her as his mistress and shown her that men could really be quite useful when it came to making a woman happy. But the time was now, and the circumstances were godawful. He continued to study her. She was really quite nice-looking and that realization sur­prised him. Her chin wasn't rounded and soft, it was stubborn and solid, that chin, as was her jaw. He imagined she was a hellion even when she was a little girl. Ah, but she was loyal. She would do anything for Jeremy. Anything at all.

And now what was there for her to do?

He had bath water brought to the bedchamber and poured into the large copper tub. Now was as good a time as any to have a look at her ribs. Very slowly he drew the sheet down. He was unfastening the buttons on one of Samuel's borrowed nightshirts when her eyes flew open. She stared up at him, not moving, not saying a word.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to look at your ribs. The bandages must come off in any case if you're to have a bath."

"No."

"Sophie, I know your body very well, as well, I imagine, as you know mine. I admit the circum­stances are a bit peculiar here but I am the only one who has taken care of you. You will hold still and let me look at your ribs. If you continue being stubborn about it, I will tie you down."

"No, damn you!"

"You won't get your bath."

"No."

"How many men have seen your body besides me? Surely more than the three you entertained when I arrived. Surely you can't have an ounce of modes­ty left."

She turned her face away. He eased her out of the nightshirt then methodically began to untie the bandages from her ribs. He paid no attention to her breasts, to her white belly. He was staring at her bruised ribs and feeling bile rise in his throat. He wanted, quite simply, to kill Uncle Theo with his bare hands.

He gently ran his fingertips over each rib. "Tell me how bad the pain is," he said. Her breathing was shallow. His hand brushed against her left breast.

She shuddered.

"All right. You're better. Now, I'm going to help you into the bathtub."


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical