The Sherbrooke Series Novels 1-5 (42 page)

“Yes,” she said, forcing a smile that was ghastly. “That’s just grand.”

Ryder saw the marked resemblance between brother and sister. He also saw that Jeremy had a lame left leg, probably a clubfoot. It was a pity, but it didn’t seem to slow the boy down a bit. He was a handsome lad and seemingly well adjusted. He chattered all the way into the dining room to Ryder, who found him both amusing and intelligent. He reminded him very much of Oliver. Ah, how he missed Oliver and the other children.

Theo Burgess tried to sidetrack Jeremy, but it didn’t work. It seemed that the man was truly fond of the boy. He didn’t order him to be quiet. He merely shook his head at him and smiled at Ryder as if to say, What can I do?

Sophie said nothing at all.

“My sister is the best rider in the entire area,” Jeremy said. “Maybe on all of Jamaica, but I’ve never been to Kingston so I can’t be certain.”

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Sophie said, smiling at her knight, a quite beautiful unconscious smile that made Ryder draw in his breath. She looked about fifteen and that smile lit up her face. It made her look very different, very appealing, really, and he didn’t like it. At that instant he realized it was the very first time he had ever seen her smile.

What the hell was going on here?

He looked down at the delicious curried shrimp with pineapple. He speared a shrimp and chewed it thoughtfully. The boy was speaking again, telling his uncle and Ryder about his hours spent with Thomas in the fields.

Sophie noticed that he didn’t mention Thomas whipping the slaves.

The dinner was pleasant, finished off by mango pie topped with warm cream. The rich Jamaican coffee was thick and black and wonderful, as usual.

Ryder bided his time. He enjoyed the boy. He shook his hand when he was dismissed to his bed. When Theo Burgess asked him if he would like to adjourn to the veranda where it was much cooler, he readily agreed. Every man he’d met on Jamaica imbibed rum in the evenings. It was time for the ritual to begin. It was time to put his plan into action.

He wasn’t surprised when Sophie excused herself to follow Jeremy upstairs. Nor was he surprised when Theo called after her, “You will join us, my dear, when you have seen to your brother. Don’t forget, Sophie.”

“I won’t forget, Uncle,” she said, and Ryder heard something odd in her voice, something he didn’t understand at all. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Ryder set out to make himself a congenial companion. He was amusing, his anecdotes of the first order. He encouraged Theo Burgess to talk and once he started, Ryder sat back, thinking about what he hoped would happen.

When Sophia came out on the veranda, she was carrying a tray and on that tray were glasses of rum punch. Ryder wasn’t at all surprised.

“How delightful,” Theo said. “I’m glad you remembered, Sophie. I trust the punch is up to the Burgess standards? I assume you enjoy a rum punch in the evenings, Ryder?”

“Why, most assuredly, sir,” Ryder said.

So this was it.

He accepted the glass Sophia handed to him. He thought her hand shook a bit. But no, he must have imagined it.

Theo proposed a toast. Ryder clicked his glass to theirs and then pretended to drink.

He then rose, glass in hand, and walked to the wooden railing, leaning his elbows on it, and looking out toward the glistening sea in the distance. There was a half-moon and the scene in front of him was spectacular. But he really didn’t see it. He turned to face Sophia and Theo, made a toast to this beauty he really didn’t see, and again pretended to drink. As he turned away again, he dumped the contents of the glass into the vivid pink blooms of the hibiscus bush just below the veranda. He hoped he hadn’t killed the plant.

Now it was time to act. He turned, smiling widely, showing his empty glass, and said, “Why don’t we take a bit of a stroll, Sophia?”

She didn’t want to. She wanted him to just leave. She didn’t want him to be sprawled naked in the cottage with Dahlia leaning over him, fondling him. She didn’t want to hear him yell again in his man’s release.

“Yes, Sophia, go along, my dear.”

“Do bring us each another glass of that delicious punch.”

“Yes, an excellent idea,” Theo said and he felt the blood speed up, felt the triumph. Sophia had been quite wrong about Sherbrooke. He was only a young man, not all that intelligent or sly, quite easy really, quite predictable. In a sense it was disappointing. There was no challenge in him, not really. Sophia had been wrong.

Sophie brought each of them a fresh glass. Again, Ryder accepted the glass she thrust toward him. He offered her his arm. “Let’s walk a bit. It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it? You can tell me some more of the island’s history.”

“Oh yes.”

He drew her into the garden on the eastern side of the house. It was darker here, but the scent of all the flowers was stronger, nearly overpowering. There was no one about, just the two of them, each with a glass of rum punch in his hand.

He said easily as he walked slowly beside her, “You don’t look the whore tonight.”

“No.”

“However, last night was something of a sensation, wasn’t it? Quite memorable, but not really, but surely I am quite wrong. It must have been memorable.”

“Yes, of course it was. You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“And you, Sophia? Did you enjoy yourself as well?”

Still, she kept walking, and showed him only her profile. “Naturally. I wouldn’t have wanted to make love with you had I not expected pleasure from it. You are quite competent as a lover.”

“You screamed quite loudly when you climaxed.”

She was silent as the night.

“I found your skills quite adequate, more than just quite, actually. Did you enjoy taking me in your mouth? You took me so deeply I feared I would gag you. But you didn’t gag, at least I don’t think you did.”

“I think such things should be left to the cottage, don’t you, Ryder?”

“Let’s stop a moment. What is that bush over there? Yes, that one with the wispy yellow leaves?”

He took her glass from her, saw her stiffen slightly, then ease, as relaxed as could be, when he set both glasses on a stone bench. And he knew, simply knew, that she was memorizing that her glass was the one on the left. Well, it wouldn’t matter. When she turned away from him, he slipped the packet of powder from his pocket and quickly poured the contents into her glass, stirring it with his finger.

“It’s a yellow poui tree, actually, it’s just very small as yet.”

She turned and waved him forward. “You see, the flowers are in clusters. They’re quite delicate and won’t last long, perhaps only another week.”

He admired the yellow poui tree.

When he turned back, she was already at the stone bench and she’d picked up her glass. She was obviously taking no chances. As he’d assured Emile, she wasn’t stupid.

He picked up his own and raised it in a toast. “To our evening. You gave me great pleasure. I trust we will spend another together very soon.”

“Yes,” she said and clicked her glass to his. She sipped it, found it remarkably delicious, and drank deep.

“Finish it off, Sophia, and if you like, we’ll stroll about a bit more.”

His rum punch went onto the ground and hers went straight down her throat.

Ryder said, “You have beautiful breasts, but I’ve already told you that. However, I remember last night that your breasts seemed even larger. Isn’t that curious? I suppose it must have been my lust, my fevered urgency for you that made me imagine such a strange thing.”

“Perhaps.”

“Why do you say perhaps?”

“You’d drunk a bit more than you should have, but you seemed to enjoy it very much. I didn’t wish to take away from your enjoyment.”

“It was very kind of you.”

She kept walking. Why wouldn’t he simply collapse ? He’d drunk two glasses, surely it was enough. Uncle Theo had made it stronger tonight. But he sounded chirpy as a blue jay and his step was light and bouncy. She hated him and herself. If it weren’t for Jeremy, why she’d ... she didn’t know really what she would do.

Ryder stopped and turned to face her. “I’d like to kiss you, Sophia. Odd, but I can’t remember kissing you at all last night, except of course just a few forays before you pushed me away so you could strip off that scarlet whore’s gown for me. It’s odd, for kissing is something I much enjoy. Why didn’t we kiss, Sophia?”

“You wanted me quickly. As you said, there was fevered urgency. There was no time.”

“Now there is.” He kissed her and she let him. She tried to force herself to kiss him back but she couldn’t. She was a fraud and a cheat and she was very, very afraid of this man. Ryder was well aware that she was letting him touch her, not reacting, suffering him. It was enraging, but he wasn’t overly surprised and oddly enough his anger soon stilled.

He gently pushed her away, holding her in the circle of his arms. “How do you feel, Miss Stanton-Greville ?”

She looked up at him. “Why so formal, Ryder? After all, you are now my lover. None other, just you, and you will remain my lover, won’t you?”

“Oh yes. You’re marvelous. If I close my eyes, why I can see you taking me into your mouth, I can feel your tongue on me, the warmth of you. Yes, you gave me great pleasure. Tell me though, Sophia, isn’t there something I can give you? Something you would like to have? I had thought to bring you a piece of jewelry but I didn’t have time to go to Montego Bay. What would you like, sweetheart?”

Yes, she thought, bitterness filling her, he had to pay the whore. She wished she could tell him Dahlia’s name and send him to her; let her get the gift. But no.

“Well,” she said slowly, giving him a dazzling smile, “perhaps there is something I would enjoy.”

“Yes? Just tell me and it’s yours. A bauble, perhaps ? A diamond or a ruby? Of course I want you again, tonight.”

She didn’t tell him. She sighed softly and fell against him, quite unconscious.

Well, hell, Ryder thought, as he lifted her. She’d succumbed more quickly than he’d expected. He gently laid her out of sight in the midst of colorful jasmine bushes, smoothed down her skirt, and rose. He gave her a small salute.

And he thought, as he walked quickly back to the veranda, now it’s your turn, Uncle Theo. I suspect you’ll be fairly easy, you old bastard.

And Theo Burgess was remarkably easy. There was only one old slave to see him when he carried Theo over his shoulder, quite unconscious, to his bed.

 

 

Sophie woke slowly. She felt strangely suspended, somehow separate from herself. Her head felt light, her thoughts scattered and vague. She felt slightly dizzy. It was morning, the sun was shining through the window.

But that couldn’t be possible. The morning sun didn’t shine in her window.

She forced herself to sit up in bed. She shook her head, wondering at the strangeness of how she felt. She felt somehow drunk but surely that was odd.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. It wasn’t her bed. She realized then that she was perfectly naked.

She cried out. She stared blankly around her. She was in the cottage, quite alone. She simply sat there, tugging the sheet over herself, staring at the far wall. What had happened?

Ryder Sherbrooke had happened. Somehow he’d discovered what she and Uncle Theo had done to him. And he’d gotten revenge.

She wondered if he’d taken her as Dahlia had taken him two nights before. How did one tell? She rose slowly, dropping the sheet. The room was warm and she felt perspiration on her brow from the heat of the room, and from the heat of her fear.

What had he done to her?

She looked down at herself. She looked the same. She remembered long ago that Uncle Theo had assured her that she’d remain a virgin. But how could one tell if a female was a virgin or not? She hadn’t asked him. She didn’t know

What to do?

Sophie saw her clothing lying neatly over the back of a wicker chair. They were the same clothes she’d worn the night before. He’d brought her here to the cottage and stripped her to her skin. It was beyond embarrassing. She had to know what he’d done to her. She had to find out what he knew.

She thought of Uncle Theo and blanched. Then, of course, she realized what must have happened. Ryder had drugged her, then Uncle Theo. He’d done a fine job of it. He’d paid them back in kind.

She dressed quickly and combed her hair, tying it at her nape with the same ribbon she’d used the night before. She looked at herself in the mirror. Did she look different? Was that how one knew that one wasn’t a virgin anymore?

She looked pale, nothing more that she could see. She had to know She left the cottage and walked quickly back to Camille Hall.

Uncle Theo wasn’t there. A slave told her that the massa hadn’t come down yet.

She realized then that it was only seven o’clock in the morning. But she couldn’t wait. She called for Opal to be saddled.

RYDER WAS ALONE on the front veranda drinking a cup of coffee. It was still very early, but he knew, deep down, that she would come and very soon. She wouldn’t be able not to. She would have to know what he’d done to her and he couldn’t wait to tell her.

When he saw Opal cantering up the drive, he smiled in anticipation, both his body and his mind becoming instantly more alert. He didn’t rise, merely sat back and watched her ride closer and closer.

Sophie dismounted and tethered Opal to one of the black-painted iron posts. She was shaking. That would never do. She wiped her hands on her skirt and forced her shoulders back.

She walked up onto the veranda and simply looked down at him. She hadn’t expected him to rise as a gentleman should in the presence of a lady and, indeed, he didn’t. After all, she was about the furthest thing from a lady that breathed.

Ryder smiled up at her, a predator’s smile, a quite evil smile really. “Good morning, Sophia. You haven’t changed your clothes, I see. You couldn’t wait to see me again, then? Would you like some breakfast ? Coffee, perhaps? You must keep your strength up, particularly after your exertions last night.”