"The Earls of Northcliffe write about her, as I said," Sinjun said. "It is too bad of Douglas—he refuses to hear about her, and more than that, he swears he won't pen a word about her."
The earl harrumphed and gave a stern look to his wife, who was now studiously separating the kippers on her plate. He said to the table at large, "We must have a ball or something equally formal so that Sophie can be introduced to the neighborhood. In the meanwhile Alex will take you about, Sophie, to meet our more illustrious neighbors."
"Will Tony and Melissande come?"
"Doubtless they will, Sinjun," Alex said. She continued to Sophie, "Melissande is my sister. She's incredibly beautiful and she married Tony Parrish, Viscount Rathmore. He is Douglas and Ryder's first cousin. You will enjoy both of them. Perhaps Tysen can come from Oxford as well. He is the youngest of the brothers and plans to be a vicar."
The dowager countess said sharply, "She cannot go to a ball dressed in Alex's castoffs, Douglas."
"No, I quite agree. We will have that seamstress in from Rye. You know, Alex, the one who fitted you up."
Lady Lydia said to no one in particular, "Ah, dear Melissande. How I wanted her for my daughter, but Douglas wouldn't oblige me. I did have hope for you, Ryder, but Tony was impossible about the entire matter."
"Tony is married to her, ma'am," Alexandra said easily. "Besides, Tony is always impossible. It's part of his charm. You will like him immensely, Sophie, as he will you. As for Melissande, well, she is also many times vastly amusing."
Sophie stared down at the congealed eggs on her plate. All these people she didn't know and didn't care about, no more than they cared about her. Like all the men on Jamaica, Tony would probably look at her and decide she was a loose tart. She picked up a scone and nibbled on it. Conversation flowed around her. She vaguely heard more insults tossed in her general direction from her mother-in-law.
She suddenly felt him looking at her. She raised her head to see Ryder simply staring at her, his fork halfway to his mouth. What was wrong? Was there butter on her chin?
He grinned. "You look beautiful this morning, Sophie, but a bit pale. I want color in my wife's cheeks. After breakfast, change into your riding habit and I will show you this favorite place of mine. Unlike Douglas, I don't spend a lot of time striding over cliffs that could crumble beneath me. No, this is another sort of place. You will like it."
Sophie didn't imagine that she would like it at all. He likely wanted to take her to a private place and come inside her again. She hurt inside. The muscles in her thighs pulled and ached. She didn't want him near her. She said nothing.
She wanted to spend some time with Jeremy, but before she could open her mouth, Sinjun and Jeremy had risen together from the table. Sophie watched her little brother place his hand in Sinjun's and smile up at her. The two of them left the room together.
Ryder said very gently, "Sinjun is a new treat. You, my dear, are an old tale. I am pleased they do well together. You and I will fascinate Jeremy later."
She disliked his knowing what was in her mind; she disliked his logic, his reasonableness. Few men she'd ever known had been very reasonable. Ryder hadn't been reasonable either on Jamaica. He'd been cynical, utterly ruthless, and calculating as the devil. This was another side of him she didn't like, didn't want to see or to recognize.
Ryder said to his brother, "While Sophie changes into her riding clothes, would you like to join me in the estate room? I need to speak with you."
Lady Lydia took only one parting shot. "I say, my dear boy, should you like to invite the Harvestons to your ball?"
Since neither dear boy knew who it was their mother was addressing, both merely nodded, Douglas wincing and Ryder wanting to curse.
"The Harvestons, of course, have three beautiful daughters," Lady Lydia said. "They are just returned from a visit to American relatives in Boston." She added, a sapient eye on Sophie, "I don't like this at all."
"I don't either, ma'am," Sophie said, tossed her napkin on her plate, and pushed back her chair before Jamieson, a footman, could assist her. What her mother-in-law had meant, o
f course, was that she didn't like Sophie, who was a nobody, in her mind.
"Take your time changing, Sophie," Alex called after her. "Douglas and Ryder probably have a lot to discuss. It's been a long time and they're very close, you know."
In the estate room, Douglas was sitting behind his desk, watching his brother pace the length of the room. They were silent for moments.
"She's a charming girl," Douglas said.
"Yes, she is."
"She doesn't behave at all like a bride. She spent most of her time before you arrived alone. She is also unhappy."
Ryder paused in his pacing long enough to curse.
"I had believed her homesick at first, but that isn't it at all."
"No."
"Last night—it surprised me. Quite took me aback. I was on my way to the kitchen to fetch Alex some milk when I saw her flying down the corridor, her face pale as her skin. You don't have to tell me anything, Ryder. But I would help if I could. Is it because of something you've done that she is unhappy? Did she find out about all of your women? Did you hurt her? Is she jealous?"