Till Dawn with the Devil (28 page)

Her lips parted in surprise. “I was just beginning to suspect. Your mother—”

“My mother! What does Lady Colette have to do with this?” he demanded.

“It was something she said that night,” Sophia said, mentally sorting through the countess’s muddled ramblings. “She mentioned a babe, and I thought she had confused me with Beatrice.”

“Impossible,” Reign said flatly. “You resemble her neither in looks nor temperament.”

Although she had been told that Beatrice had been quite beautiful, Sophia assumed her husband had been paying her a compliment. “Perhaps she was referring to my mother. There were moments when she called me Lady Ravenshaw. Or . . .”

“Or?”

Sophia sighed. She should have kept her own counsel when it came to the subject of Lady Colette. Reign seemed unwilling to discuss what had happened at Addison Park or speak his mother’s name. With the exception that he and Stephan had declared a truce, she suspected even his friends were unaware of the awful truths they had learned from his mad mother.

“Or?” Reign nuzzled her ear, which resulted in tingles that she felt all the way to her fingertips. “Tell me.”

She glanced away and shrugged. “Despite Lady
Colette’s tenuous hold on her sanity, she was very observant. I think she had her suspicions that I was carrying your babe. This is merely speculation on my part, but I would wager the news upset her. It might have been the reason why she decided to reveal herself to me. In her confused state, I became Beatrice, the deceitful wife who was determined to leave you, or I was my mother, a rival for your father’s affection.”

“Good God!” Reign said, his arms tightening around her.

Neither one of them spoke for several minutes. Both were aware that it did not matter which incarnation of Sophia had driven Lady Colette to act. Whether it was Beatrice, Lady Ravenshaw, or Sophia herself, who had married Reign to escape her brother’s dictates, his mother had planned to murder her in a misguided attempt to spare her son from the pain of another false-hearted lady.

Sophia sensed the sadness pouring off Reign. Knowing him well, she suspected that he was still blaming himself for Lady Colette’s treachery. Her finger idly twirled the ends of his hair, which was tightly bound into a queue at the nape of his neck. In an effort to distract him, she gave his hair a playful tug. “You are not to blame, husband.”

“I do not know if I agree.”

“Absolutely not,” she said with resounding conviction. “You were a child when your father decided to fake Lady Colette’s death and lock
her away. If anyone is to blame, it is your father, and he paid dearly for his sins.”

He thought about her words, and wearily nodded. “I suppose you are right.”

Sophia planted a kiss on the side of his jaw as a reward for not arguing with her. “Besides, I prefer to discuss more pressing matters. Tell me, how long have you known about the babe?”

Reign gave her a suspicious glance, suggesting that he knew exactly what she was doing. He shrugged. “Since we departed Addison Park. If you recall, you were ill for most of the trip. I was worried that I had pushed you too hard about London, and that you were still too weak to travel. Then I recalled that you told me that you were not fragile, a weak creature who needed coddling.”

“Good of you to notice,” Sophia said wryly.

“It was later that I noticed other changes,” Reign said, cupping one of her breasts.

His dark blue eyes heated at Sophia’s soft gasp. The tenderness in her breasts had increased in the passing weeks, and her nipples reacted to the lightest touch.

“The most important clue was the fact that you have not had your monthly courses.”

Sophia blushed. “Gabriel! To talk about such things!”

“I would wager our babe was conceived on our wedding night,” he said huskily.

“You do not mind?” she asked, suddenly worried. Their marriage had been precipitated
from necessity rather than love. Sophia had never doubted that children would be part of their lives when she accepted his offer of marriage. Nevertheless, she never expected to be carrying his child so soon.

His hand lovingly caressed her belly. The stomach muscles beneath his hand fluttered in response, as if the thick corset and layers of fabric were not barring his access to her sensitive flesh.

“Mind? Why would I?” he replied, kissing her tenderly on the mouth. “After all, I did nothing to prevent such a delightful outcome.”

“Did nothing—” Sophia’s eyes narrowed as he grinned unrepentantly at her. “Do you mean there are ways to—to—and yet you did
nothing
?” She slipped out of his grasp and stood so she could glare at him for his typical high-handed behavior.

Although she was thrilled to be carrying his child, Reign should have been more forthcoming. In the near future, she was going to have to have a private chat with Juliana, since Sophia’s education was woefully lacking in these personal matters.

Sensing her peevish mood, Reign stood and approached her with a wariness that soothed her pride. “Sophia, I told you that I wanted children from this marriage, and you agreed. Are you unhappy with our bargain?”

Sophia did not resist when Reign pulled her into his arms. The uncertainty she heard in his voice tore at her heart. While Sophia was irked by
the unflattering comparison, she knew her husband was worried that, like Beatrice, she would come to resent their marriage.

His vulnerability was her undoing.

“Of course not! I already love this child,” she said passionately. “Almost as much as I love—” Sophia bit down on her lip, vowing not to burden Reign with her confession.

He had told her that he required a faithful wife, and that he wanted children. He had not asked for her love. It was a fickle emotion that he had learned not to trust.

Reign stalked her as Sophia edged away from him. “Love . . . what do you love, or rather, should I ask, who do you love?”

Trapped by her own words, she blurted out, “You. I love you, my lord.”

Sophia shrieked when Reign all of a sudden swept her up into his arms so that they were nose-to-nose.

“Tell me again.”

She squinted at him, wondering if he was teasing her. “I-I love you, Gabriel.”

Her husband issued a celebratory shout and spun her around. Sophia’s head and stomach both whirled. “Again.”

“I love you. I have for some time,” she confessed, relieved that she could express what she had tried to hide even from herself. “But I thought that you did not want—”

Reign smothered her words with a kiss. “I lied. To you and to myself. The first time I kissed
you in Lord and Lady Harper’s garden, I longed to carry you off into the night and claim you for my own.”

“What stopped you?”

He shifted his stance, rocking her gently. “Ravenshaw. Your connection to him troubled me for some time.”

Sophia could not blame him. She had been equally alarmed when she learned that he was Lord Rainecourt. “Then Stephan was suddenly agreeable to marrying me off to Lord Mackney because he viewed the match and my dowry as a means to settle his own considerable debts.”

“You needed the devil on your side,” he said, pivoting on his heel before he carried her toward the bed. “And I was happy to oblige since Ravenshaw’s stupidity gave me the one thing that I craved.”

Sophia bounced a little as she landed on the bed. “What?”

Reign crawled on top of her. “You. I love you, Sophia Housely,” he said, his dark blue eyes glittering like sapphires.

Sophia tilted her head back as his questing mouth covered hers. His kiss was one of joy and reverence, hunger and promise. Her pulse quickened with the knowledge that Reign was wholly hers. She claimed his heart and soul, just as he had hers.

“What are you doing?” she asked when he seized the edge of one of the sleeves of her dress
and tugged, exposing her bare shoulder. “Have you forgotten about our guests downstairs?”

He gave her a sullen look. It was apparent that he had, indeed, forgotten about the friends who were awaiting their return. “I suppose you are going to insist on being practical.”

“Naturally!”

The corners of his mouth curved into a wicked grin. Sophia sensed she had once again fallen for his trickery before the trap shut with a decisive snap.

“Then I will have to get you out of this dress, madam. You do not want to return with the smell of fish clinging to your skirts,” Reign said, his eyes twinkling with humor as he silently dared her to refuse him.

Sophia gazed up into the handsome face of the man she loved, already knowing that there was little she could deny him. Nor would she want to, because she would miss out on some new adventure that only he could give her.

“Well, it would be the most practical thing to do,” Sophia said, surrendering herself to Reign’s very capable hands.

Turn the page for a sneak peek at the next book by Alexandra Hawkins

AFTER DARK WITH A SCOUNDREL

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

“Is Lord Chillingsworth pleased that you will be able to join him in London this season?”

Regan blinked, distracted by the innocent question. All she wanted to do was rend the paper in her hand into dozens of illegible pieces and scream. Instead, she carefully folded Frost’s letter and smiled demurely at her friends’ expectant expressions.

“Of course.” Her fingers tapped the paper lightly. “While it has only been four months since I last saw Frost, I have not had the pleasure of visiting London in almost five years.”

And if Frost has his way, another five years will pass before he grants me his consent.

“Our first social season in Town!” Nina sighed. Miss Tyne was nineteen, and possessed an overly optimistic view on life. The daughter of a baron, Nina was expected to make a good match for her family, and there was no doubt that her friend would succeed.

Or perhaps some of Nina’s optimism had rubbed off on Regan while they were in school.

“Well, I say it is high time Lord Chillingsworth does his duty by you, and gives you a proper season, Regan. I will have you know that Mama agrees as well.”

She did not have the heart to remind Thea that her mother was the person responsible for Regan’s banishment from London in the first place. Frost would never have thought to send her away to school if it had not been for Lady Karmack’s meddling. He had been too busy pursuing his own amusements to be bothered with giving his sister a proper education and polish befitting an earl’s daughter.

Lady Karmack, on the other hand, had taken one look at Regan and feared that under the care of her notorious brother she would be destined to become a famous courtesan, or worse, the wife of one of the Lords of Vice. As a distant cousin, the older woman felt it was her Christian duty to remove Regan from her brother’s ghastly influence.

It still hurt that Frost had not fought harder to keep her.

In the beginning, Regan had not appreciated Lady Karmack’s keen interest in her welfare. She had been disrespectful, outrageous, and oftentimes deliberately obtuse when it came to her lessons. The first year away from Frost and the men she considered her family had been the worst, and Regan had not been shy about displaying her
anger toward the people who sincerely believed that they were saving her from a life of depravity. It was at Miss Swann’s Academy for Ladies that she gradually became friends with Thea and Nina.

Instead of looking down their noses at Regan’s outlandish behavior like many of the other girls had, the two young women had been in awe. No one dared to challenge Miss Swann or speak their mind, and Regan often did both. The trio had banded together by the end of their first year and had been nearly inseparable. When Regan had not been sequestered at school, she had often spent her summers visiting her friends. If Frost was in residence at the family’s country seat, she joined him. However, their weeks together were usually strained, and, in hindsight, Regan acknowledged that she was often to blame.

In those early years of what she had come to view as her banishment, she had written her brother dozens of letters, begging him to relent and come for her. She missed her old life. She missed Nox and the Lords of Vice. She had often wondered if Dare might kiss her again if she returned to London.

Frost never gave her a chance to satisfy her curiosity.

He always denied her requests. Not one for sentimentality, the only time her brother wrote to her was to tell her that she could not return to London until Miss Swann had transformed the hoyden into a lady. His casual rejections had taken
a toll on their relationship, and Regan could not quite forgive Frost for sending her away.

However, she was willing to let bygones be bygones if her brother was willing to be reasonable.

She intended to spend the entire season in London with or without his blessing.

With Lady Karmack on her side this time, Frost was going to find it difficult to dismiss her polite request.

“Will you be remaining at our house or will you join Frost at his town house?” Thea asked.