Page 57 of To Redeem an Earl

Richard leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands to ponder the question. “Lord Stanford knows the man’s identity. He refused to name the scoundrel out of misguided honor.”

Perry sprang to his feet, his jaw set in a determined line. “I will locate Lord Stanford and compel him to reveal the identity of this troublemaker even if I have to drag him out of Lady Partridge’s bedroom of iniquity and beat it out of him.”

Richard thought about it, then nodded. “Take one of the barking irons with you.” He gestured to the carved walnut box that housed his pistols on a top shelf.

Perry frowned in puzzlement. “I was not planning to kill the man or call him out.”

Richard groaned. “For protection, you cretin! You will carry one and I the other until we settle this matter.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.” His brother flashed him an impudent grin. “I am happy you are still with us, blighter.” He ducked the cushion thrown at his head to walk over and take the box down. Resting it on the desk, he opened the box to remove one of the pistols. Carefully, he prepared and loaded the weapon before slipping it in the overcoat he still wore. Giving a quick salute, he left Richard alone to his thoughts.

After a few minutes contemplating the hell of this night, he stood up to make his way over to the Woods’ residence, his carriage waiting for him when he exited the front door.

When he reached the Mayfair home of Lady Wood, he found Sophia waiting for him alone in a drawing room with an untouched cup of tea on the table in front of her. She jumped up when he entered the room, running over to fling herself into his arms.

Richard wrapped his arms around her, grateful that she was safe and alive while he rested his cheek on the crown of her head and breathed deeply the scent of roses.

“Richard, I cannot believe what you did. My heart stopped when the two of you tumbled to the floor. I thought you were dead!”

“Who would bring trouble into your life, then?”

Sophia pulled back to look up at him. “The trouble does not concern me. I need you alive.”

Richard let her go, pulling back to walk over and drop onto one of the rickety, elegant sofas, which juddered under his weight. “I do not see why. I have brought nothing but pandemonium and peril into your life. You were more protected before you married me.”

His heart squeezed in agony at the deep silence following his pronouncement. After many moments, he heard her light footsteps approaching. She sat down on the sofa beside him and reached out a hand to cover his.

“We are both exhausted and I can no longer think straight, husband. But please know my relief that you survived is most profound. Could we go home to rest and then we can discuss things in the morning?”

Richard bobbed his head. He could not deny that in the aftermath, his body was heavy with weariness. He had forgotten to rid himself of the jacket, and the smell of blood aggravated his senses.

“How is Lady Wood?”

“She downed a strong drink, showed me some bruises beneath her garments. Before she went to bed, she asked me to thank you. Evidently, she believes you saved her life this evening. Lord Wood has not permitted her to leave her home without him in several weeks, so she has been trapped in this townhouse since March. Some of the bruises … they were … much older and … and …” Sophia broke off, overcome by what she had seen. Richard grimaced and put an arm around her.

“Do not fret, Sophia. I will visit Lady Wood and ensure she is well taken care of. And I will have Johnson look into her circumstances to ensure that proper provisions were made for her. Hopefully, her father negotiated good terms for the eventuality of her bereavement.”

Tears welled to slip down her smooth cheeks. She turned her head into his shoulder and flung her arms around him in a tight embrace. “I am such a watering pot tonight.”

Richard gave her a squeeze and rose to his feet, holding out a hand to her. “Let us go so we can get some rest.”

* * *

Sophia clungto Richard the entire night. Each time he stirred, he found her form draped over him in different angles as if she could not bear to let him go. It warmed the depths of his soul where he still sought to come to terms with the fact that he had taken the life of a man he barely knew. Nothing could prepare a man for such an event. However, if he had to do it again, he would not hesitate to protect the woman who was lying in his arms, emitting a bleating snore from the awkward angle her head tilted so that she could nestle into his shoulder.

Carefully unwrapping her arms, he eased her onto her side, ensuring her neck was not cricked. He curved his arm around her sleeping form and went back to sleep, content to lie in bed with Sophia for the entire day if he could.

It was early afternoon when Richard and Sophia finally arose. Dressed in their nightclothes and robes, they ate breakfast from trays at the table near Sophia’s window, too wrung out from the night before to bother with dressing or going downstairs to break their fast.

Once Sophia had swallowed down her eggs, sipped on her tea, and sat quietly contemplating the garden from her window, she broke their deep silence.

“May I see the note now?”

Richard huffed in mild amusement. He swallowed down his toast—he was surprised how ravenous he had been when the meal arrived—before rising to walk into his rooms.

After several minutes of searching, he found the note folded neatly with his things in a drawer of his bureau and returned.

Sitting down across from his wife, he stared at her for a while. She looked beautiful with her tousled red-blonde hair, her large eyes weary but prismatic with striations of light and dark blues reflected in their depths. And, more importantly, she was beauty itself because she wasalive.

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