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She wanted to mend the gown now, truth be told. The night stretched out before her in a terrifying long number of minutes. But even Sophie knew from the look on Ryder's face that she'd pushed him far enough. She saw her uncle's face in its stead, the fury darkening his eyes when she'd pushed him. She remembered the pain of his fists, the rippling of her flesh when they struck. She was soon standing only in her chemise and stockings.

"You didn't wear slippers at your own wedding," he said, bemused. "I had thought you were tall­er. Let's get those stockings off, I want to look at your feet."

She sat on the edge of the bed wearing only her white muslin chemise, Ryder on his haunches in front of her, completely oblivious of the fact he didn't have any clothes on.

"Your feet are healing nicely," he said. "There are only a couple of cuts that still look tender. On board ship, don't wear slippers unless you have to and be careful of the decks, you could get splinters. Now let me look at your ribs."

He took her hand and drew her upright. He bent down to take the hem of her chemise in his hands. He stopped cold. He wanted to howl and laugh at the s

ame time at the damnable irony. It was his wedding night and he'd been done in.

There was blood on her chemise.

"You don't feel well, Sophie?"

"Not very well. I'm not lying to you, Ryder. My stomach is cramping a bit."

"No wonder," he said and sighed very deeply. "I'm sorry if this disappoints you, but you're not preg­nant."

She gasped as she looked down at herself. She turned white.

"No need to be embarrassed. Have you cloths?"

She shook her head.

"All right. I'll send Coco to you. Would you like some laudanum? Is the cramping bad?"

"No. Yes."

Fifteen minutes later Ryder stood beside the bed, wearing a dressing gown, looking down at his wife's pale face. Despite the heat she'd pulled the sheet up to her nose. He'd forced the laudanum down her throat, saying in a very irritated voice, "I swear not to ravish you whilst you're unconscious." To which she'd replied in an equally irritated voice, "Why not? You did before."

That had stopped him cold. He looked down at her now. "So much for the vaunted Sherbrooke luck," he said more to himself than to her, and lifted the sheet. He eased in beside her. "No, Sophie, don't have a fit and don't squirm around so much, you might fall on the floor. I won't force you to have me tonight. Hush now. The laudanum should be taking effect soon. That's right, just close your eyes and breathe deeply. Would you like me to rub your belly?"

He didn't expect an answer and he didn't get one. A short time later he heard her breathing evenly into sleep.

He took her hand in his.

The sky was beginning to lighten into morning. Ryder stood on deck of the Harbinger beside Sophie. "Don't forget to give my brother the letter," he said for the third time. "And don't worry. He will take good care of you and Jeremy. My mother could be a bit of a problem, but she's unaccountable. If she chooses not to be charming to you, simply ignore her, all right? You'll have quite an ally in Alex, I doubt not. Have you put the money I gave you in a safe place?"

"Yes, Ryder."

"Does your belly feel all right this morning?"

"Yes."

"You promise to hire two guards at Southampton?"

"Yes."

He frowned at her. "You think I'm treating you like a child, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Look, Sophie, I've never had a wife before, never really had any responsibilities of this sort before except of course for the chil—" He broke that off and shook his head at himself. He couldn't seem to keep his tongue quiet in his mouth around her. He would tell her about the children, but in his own time, in his own way. She was looking at him, an eyebrow lifted in silent question, but he merely shook his head, and continued. "In any case, you and Jeremy are mine now and I want to make certain you will be all right."

"We will be fine. Don't worry. Are you sure your family won't toss us out on our ears?"

"I won't lie to you. They will be very surprised. I hadn't planned to marry, at least for a very long time. I would appreciate it, Sophie, if you would try to make my family believe you are at least a bit fond of me, that you don't look upon me as a ravening beast."


Tags: Catherine Coulter Sherbrooke Brides Historical