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She stopped by a section of shelves at the rear of the room. “This is where Papa kept his favorite books. He loved historical treatises and overly melodramatic novels.” She turned to face him, her expression once again that of a gracious hostess. “If either interests you, you will find them here.”
“Is there a history of Sanctuary Bay on that shelf?”
Sophia shook her head as she went to the desk and sat. “There is no such book, as my father lamented far too often. He always spoke of writing a history of the bay, but he never did.”
He rested his arms on the back of the wing chair. “Mr. Fenwick mentioned that the late baron had been doing some research in that direction and that you had further information.”
Her stiff pose softened. “Papa and I spent many evenings trying to trace the bay’s name to its origins. It was quite fascinating to discover that the bay might have been a sanctuary for miscreants.”
“Ah, now that is far more intriguing.” His smile broadened. “What sort of criminals sought a hiding place among the cliffs long ago?”
“Pirates.”
“Definitely more interesting.” Coming around the chair, he sat in it, pulling it closer to her. “Tell me more.”
She did, warming to the story she and her father had pieced together out of legend and dusty tomes. Charles listened intently while she explained how, several centuries before, the English pirates had preyed on trade ships going to and from the Low Countries and north toward Germany and Norway.
“They could very easily slip in and out of the bay, which has deep water,” she said, her hands moving as if they were ships on the sea. “Once they reached their target, they were swifter and with nothing to lose, so they often convinced the captains to hand over their cargo without a single shot fired.”
“And hied to Sanctuary Bay. But that cannot be the end of the tale. The ships’ captains must have set chase.” He wanted to keep her telling the story, because he was fascinated by how her expression emphasized each facet of it. Without the grief that too often shadowed her face, she was even more beguiling.
He started to reach out his hand to put it over hers. He drew it back quickly. Hadn’t Bradby’s interruption this afternoon taught him anything? He could not risk her reputation by giving in to the yearning to touch her.
“The ships did come to Sanctuary Bay, but the crews never found any signs of their stolen cargos in the village.”
“Tell me, where in this house did they hide their loot?”
“There is supposedly a deep cellar, more like a cave actually, beneath, but we have never found any sign of it.” Her laugh caressed him like a spring breeze. “How did you guess? Nobody outside the village ever knew of it.”
“Mr. Fenwick’s reluctance to speak of your father’s theory was a good clue.”
“There are rumors that my ancestors played a large part in the crimes.”
“That did not disturb your father?”
“Quite to the contrary. He thought it great fun to have pirates in our family line, but he was also glad that we live in a far more civilized time.”
Charles sighed deeply. “I would not say we are more civilized. We simply prey on each other in different ways now.”
“I read the dispatches in the newspaper about the battles against the French,” she said in little more than a whisper. “I cannot imagine how much more horrendous it must have been on the battlefield.”
“No, you cannot. Not unless you were there.”
“I would be glad to listen if you wish to speak of it. Mr. Fenwick has often reminded us that a problem shared is a lessened burden.”
He recoiled, shocked by her words. “Why would I wish to relive that?”
“I have no idea, but—”
“Miss Meriweather, I do not wish to speak it.” He clenched his teeth as he felt the all-too-familiar surge of heated anger rising from his gut. He struggled to dampen it, but his temper seemed to have a will of its own, wanting to lash out in every direction.
Sophia stared at him in shock. The so-very-brief connection between them was now completely broken. He told himself that it was for the best. She should be getting better acquainted with her cousin, not with him. That thought stabbed him. What did it matter? If she knew the truth about him, she would run in the opposite direction.
He stood when she rose and gestured at the bookshelves.
Her voice was polite and nothing more. “Please feel free to read any book that appeals to you.” She faltered, then said, “Some of the volumes are old and fragile. If you wish to read in your room tonight—”
“Michael and Gemma have been taught to respect other people’s possessions,” he replied crisply at the implied insult. Telling himself that she had not meant her words that way, he tried to push his anger deep within him again. It was like trying to squeeze a cannon into a snuffbox.
“As I said, I am done here.” She did not look at him. “You are welcome to stay. I hope you feel free to run tame through the house.”
“You have made us feel comfortable in your home.” He raised a hand to halt her answer when her gaze slid toward him. “I know it is Herriott’s estate, but it is your home. I daresay I would not show such equanimity if a stranger came to Northbridge Castle and laid claim to it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We have had time to adjust because we have been awaiting Cousin Edmund’s arrival for more than ten months.”
“But to hand over your home without a protest...”
“We are fortunate he is a kind gentleman, who already is making efforts to put us at ease.”
He found her trite answer vexing. Before he could halt himself, he fired back, “Really? Are you as at ease with the idea of wedding your family to his?”
She flinched at the word wedding. “That is too intimate a question,” she said in a frigid tone, “but you would be wise to remember that I shall do what I must for my family. And I ask you, my lord, would you wed your family to another if it was for the benefit of your children?” She pushed past him to go to the door.
His fingers closed into fists. How dare she use such an officious tone that suggested she was a better person, more willing to sacrifice than he was! She sounded like Lydia. His late wife had delighted in looking down her nose at him whenever she had had the chance. Now Miss Meriweather was doing exactly the same. Had she no idea how much he was fighting to control his temper that she seemed determined to incite with her verbal attack? Cold fury pumped through him. If she wanted a battle, he would oblige.
“Odd,” he said to her back. “I may not know you well, Miss Meriweather, but I have learned to trust my first impressions.”
She spun to face him. “Which means?”
“I don’t see you as a woman willing to settle for a neat solution.”
“A neat solution?” Tears glistened in her eyes. “Is that what you are looking for in your life and your children’s lives? A nice, neat, boring solution? May I suggest, Lord Northbridge, that you deal with your family’s problems and allow me to deal with mine?”
She was gone before he could reply, but not before he saw tears bubbling out of her eyes.
He gripped his hands on the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Was using cutting words to find a woman’s most vulnerable spot the only thing he had learned during his marriage? He thought of Bradby’s teasing about the fairy tale of “Beauty and the Beast.” Was his friend closer to the truth than he guessed?
He slammed his left fist into the oak door. It crashed against the wall as pain surged up his arm. Cradling his hand, he edged away from the door that was now stained with the blood from his scraped knuckles.
Charles turned away from the door. He hated how his temper had become a vicious monster, ready to shed any hint of humanity and leap into battle at the least provocation. He did not want to lose himself again and again to his temper, but he feared he no longer knew how to prevent it.
Chapter Four
He had not asked her to marry him.
Not yet.
Sophia glanced at her cousin Edmund who had shielded his eyes as he looked out over the sea where the water broke far out from shore. His greatcoat flapped in the strong wind off the water. Did he notice how she held her breath each time he opened his mouth to speak? Dear Lord, she prayed, help him understand that there is no hurry for us to do our duty.
They had walked down the steep hill to the headland at the south end of Sanctuary Bay because Edmund wanted to explore the estate beyond the gardens. The storm clouds were gone, but the powerful wind remained, driving the salty scent up onto the raw cliffs. Tall clumps of grass stretched over so far the tips almost touched the ground. No trees or even tall stacks of stone offered shelter from the wind.
“This is my favorite vantage point,” Sophia said, clamping her hand to her bonnet as a gust of wind tried to yank it away. From this spot the village of Sanctuary Bay was almost hidden from their view in its narrow slit between the cliffs. Only a few roofs were visible, though the beach was broad with the low tide. Between the village and where she and Edmund stood, the entire curve of the sheer rock walls could be seen rising along the shingle shore.
“Stunning,” Edmund shouted over the wind. He moved closer to the edge of the cliff.
“Take care!” she called after him. “The rocks are not always stable in this area.”
He edged two steps back. “Then I shall wait until we get to a more secure area before I give in to temptation to peer over the rim.”
“There are several places where paths lead down the beach, but even with those, we always need to be careful of rocks coming loose.”
“I see there is much to learn about Sanctuary Bay and Meriweather Hall. Shall we continue?” He offered his arm as he had earlier when they emerged from the garden to walk along the cliffs.
Then, Sophia had pretended not to notice. It had been simple because they had been pushing past the trees and shrubs growing at the edge of the garden. Now, when they stood in the open, she had no excuse not to take his proffered arm.
She put her hand on his sleeve. Oh, dear! Her fingers were trembling so hard that he could not fail to notice. She hoped he did not think she was frightened to be alone with him. Not that they were truly alone, because a footman stood several yards away as a discreet chaperone. She must make sure he did not get the idea that she found him distasteful. Quite to the contrary! If she was not fearful that the next word out of his mouth would be a marriage proposal, she would enjoy his company. His sense of humor was not as broad as Mr. Bradby’s, and he possessed an intelligence that rivaled Lord Northbridge’s.
No! This was no time to be thinking of the annoying earl. She must find a way to prevent any further discussions like the one in her father’s book-room. Sleeping last night had been impossible. She regretted letting him goad her into speaking coldly to a guest. But she did not regret the moments when his gaze held hers too long, even though she should not be thinking of that.
“Avoiding the very edge of the cliffs is always wise,” Sophia said, knowing she must say something so her cousin did not suspect her thoughts were on his friend. “It is the first lesson my sister and I learned when we got old enough to explore on our own.”
“Now you are passing it along to me as the new Lord Meriweather.”
She forced a smile. “Consider it simply one of the Meriweather estate traditions.”
“One I will take to heart. After all, I can’t depend on Northbridge to save me this time.” Color flashed up his face, and he looked quickly away.
He had said something he had not intended. Sophia should change the subject and put him at ease once more. But her curiosity had been whetted. The earl had saved her cousin’s life. During the war? It must have been. What had happened? Was that when the earl had received the wound that had left a scar on his face? She wanted to ask, but she would be wiser simply to say nothing.
“Please, I implore you,” Cousin Edmund said, “forget that I said that, Sophia.”
“It is forgotten,” she said, though she wondered if she could ever do as she stated.
He gave a relieved sigh. “Thank you. Northbridge prefers to let what took place during the war remain unspoken. On that, I agree with him.” He cleared his throat and looked past her toward the village. “Do tell me, Sophia, about the rumors I hear that pirates once held sway in Sanctuary Bay.”
Sophia grasped on to the new topic with eagerness. To discuss Lord Northbridge, even obliquely, made her uncomfortable. She wanted to keep the discussion with her cousin light, and he seemed to be making every effort to do the same.
When she retold the story she had related to the earl last night, Edmund asked insightful questions about the pirates’ vessels and how they disposed of their ill-gotten goods.
“You look astonished,” he said.
“I am. Most people focus on the adventures upon the seas rather than what the pirates had to do once they were ashore in order to profit from their crimes.”
Edmund smiled, and her heart caught when she saw a shadow of her father’s features on his face. It was the first time she had noticed a family resemblance. “I must admit to what is scandalous for a peer, even a new one. Before I bought my commission, I was involved in importing fine woods and other materials for the houses my company built or rebuilt in London and in the countryside. Anyone in the import business loses sleep over a ship being sunk or pirated.”
“You may not want to mention your past business worries in such terms when you visit the village.”
“Because the piracy continues?”
“Not the piracy. Papa and I were never able to find actual proof that it ever occurred.” She smiled as she held her bonnet to her head as the wind tried to pull it off again. “I am sorry to tell you that we cannot say the same about smuggling.”
Her cousin snorted so loudly that the footman turned to stare at them in curiosity. “If there are men in any port along the British shore who have not taken advantage of a customs officer’s lack of attention, I have not heard of them.” He glanced at the sea. “I think I shall enjoy my visits here.”
Sophia paused, astonished, as they rounded the end of the headland and turned up the hill toward the house. Its chimneys could be seen over the trees that protected it from the worst of the sea storms. So many times she had taken in this view, but for the first time, she felt like a stranger who had washed up on the shore.
“You are not planning on making Meriweather Hall your home?” she asked.
“For part of the year. I worked too hard building my business to sell it simply because I was made a peer.” He looked back at her. “That probably sounds silly to you.”
“No, not at all.” Her admiration for her cousin rose because he was willing to step outside the expectations of the ton to hold on to his dreams.
“Thank you.” For the first time, his smile seemed genuine. “I am glad you understand. I assure you that I will not neglect Meriweather Hall.”
“I never even thought that.”
He began walking with her toward the house. “But I cannot ignore my company either. I must oversee it until I can find a manager I have faith in.”
“You must have had someone to stand in your stead while you were on the Continent.”
He rubbed his hands together, then rammed them into the large pockets of his greatcoat. “I did, but the fellow has told me that he no longer wants the responsibility. It was one thing, he has told me, to carry the load of another man’s business during the war. It is quite a different situation now.”
“None of your other employees will do?”
“I have several good men in mind, but I must make a decision on that.” He sighed as if he faced a very distasteful task. “I will also be obligated to go up to London for the parliamentary season, of course.”
“Of course.” She must have failed to keep her bitterness out of her voice because her cousin looked puzzled and as uncertain as she had felt during most of their walk.
“I would have guessed that you and your sister would enjoy visiting London during the height of the social Season.”
“I am sure Catherine would.” Seeing his eyes narrow, she hurried to add, “I attended part of one Season with my father a few years ago.”
Did Edmund believe she was fishing for a proposal by speaking of her sister being fired-off? She must be more cautious with every word.
“Part of one Season?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He hesitated, and she knew she had aroused his curiosity. She should have known better than to speak of going to London for a partial Season. A young, unbetrothed woman in her first Season would leave Town early only for embarrassing reasons—a lack of funds, a ruined reputation, or because she was cast aside by a fiancé.
“My London house is available to you and your sister and mother whenever you wish to participate in the Season again,” he said.
“That is very kind of you.”
“It seems only fair as you have welcomed me here.”
“I am glad that you are making yourself at home at Meriweather Hall. I hope you will always feel that way.” Heat slapped her face when his took on an odd shade of gray.
She had not intended for her words to mean anything more than the trite phrase she would have spoken to any guest. His reaction warned that he had read a different meaning into them. Would she have to be on guard each time she spoke for fear that he would construe her words as a request for him to propose marriage?
