Page 7 of To Redeem an Earl

“Leech, I beg your indulgence. I have news that will benefit both of us greatly. Did you happen to see my sister?”

LordLeech?Sophia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She saw the man infrequently at social events. A scrawny, sallow man with unkempt brown hair and a thick mustache, he flaunted a wicked reputation in that he had married two heiresses over the past few years, both of whom had coincidentally died within months of the nuptials under suspicious circumstances. He was either a very unlucky man, or, more likely, a despicable villain who had managed to get rid of his wives in favor of their fortunes, but left no evidence of his foul activities. None openly accused the lord of murder, but many whispered about it in speculation.

Unfortunately, Leech had some powerful friends, so he still moved within society despite his gruesome reputation as a possible wife-killer. On the other hand, fathers were no longer offering up their daughters to the fortune hunter in exchange for a title.

“The tall girl with the reddish-blonde hair and unbecoming white gown standing with your aunt? She looks worth a turn in the gardens. What about her?”

Sophia’s lip curled in disgust at the thought of accompanying this reprobate to the gardens.

“That’s her. Miss Sophia Hayward. A right spoilt little princess. It happens I was in my uncle’s study and stumbled on some interesting documents.”

“Stumbled? More like you searched his office. Gambling debts getting a little too deep to manage, Hayward?”

“Nothing I can’t deal with. Now let me tell you what I uncovered. The late Viscount Moreland, Sophia’s grandfather, apparently did not trust my father. When the marriage contracts for Sophia’s mother were negotiated, he made the rather unusual move to establish a trust for the new Mrs. Hayward and any children resulting from the union. As it was in a separate trust, neither my father nor any of his creditors could make any claim on it. The old man ensured that his daughter and his grandchildren would be taken care of irrespective of my father’s financial management skills, which were very poor because he was a degenerate gambler.”

Sophia threw a hand up to cover her mouth for fear she would chuckle. Her brother had the temerity to call their father a degenerate gambler? That was rich considering his strong-arm tactics to seize her pin money for his own gambling habits.

“The point is, Sophia is the only grandchild from the union and the old viscount must have been overly focused on preventing my father from controlling the funds because it did not state the protections for his grandchildren beyond that. It would appear that his solicitors did not think past the initial issue they were addressing since, from what I understand, the entire trust will go to her husband if she marries, which so far there has been no risk of. The silly chit can’t attract a man.” Sophia narrowed her eyes at her brother’s nasty words. That was deliberate on her part,thank you very much!

Leech responded, “How much are we talking about?”

“Fifty thousand pounds.”

Sophia clamped both hands over her mouth to prevent the exclamation that struggled to burst forth from her astonishment. The two men were both silent.

Finally, Leech whistled through his teeth. “That’s incredible. The Abbott family must be plump in the pocket. Why has someone not snatched her up, then?”

“The Abbotts are very protective, and they have kept the size of her dowry a secret. Uncle Hugh must have an abhorrence of fortune hunters after my father ran through the marriage settlement and gambled all his income and assets away before dropping dead during a high-stakes card game.”

“And Moreland’s only sister died of anaccidentallaudanum overdosebecause of her weak nerves after that incident.” Sophia winced at the sarcastic emphasis as Leech implied anything but. “Pity the mother passed after birthing a brat, or you might have had grounds to argue that the blunt should drop on you as the heir of your father’s estate.”

Sophia shivered, icy tendrils of fear coursing through her veins. They were speaking about her never being born, and she suspected the idea of her not existing was part of the plan to be discussed. She had always known there was not much love lost between her and her brother, but it hurt to learn how little regard he had for her.

“If I were to help you marry her, I would want a guarantee that you would split the dowry with me.”

“What sort of help?”

“I can introduce you. And, when the time is right, I can let you into the house so you can take the little baggage to Gretna Green. I read the terms of the trust, and there is nothing the viscount can do once she is legally married. The trust will be paid out because she is the only remaining beneficiary.”

That her brother would ally with the man to see her wed, with the possibility of her premature death in the bargain, spoke to how little Cecil cared for his younger sister. Sophia struggled to calm her breathing as terror twisted in her stomach. There were few things that frightened her, but her brother and his dedication to gambling, the lengths he would go to for money—there was no question he could follow through with the plan he was suggesting to Lord Leech.

She listened carefully as they reached an agreement about how to exploit her, and there was no doubt in her mind that her freedom and her life were at risk. She had learned years earlier that her older brother, who bore a marked physical resemblance to their father but did not wield his charm or pleasant manner, was ruthless in taking advantage of her. Any hopes she still held that one day they would repair their relationship were well and truly laid to rest.

When she had first come out in society and started receiving a larger allowance, Cecil had cornered her in her room. Twisting her arm behind her back until tears filled her eyes from the pain, he had demanded that she hand her coin over. She finally gave him the reticule hidden in her dressing table. He took it along with the silver-backed brush and mirror that had belonged to her mother. When he walked out the door, she had called out that Uncle Hugh would not be pleased. He had immediately walked back in, grabbed her by the shoulder with one large hand, and punched her hard in the stomach with the other, which had dropped her to her knees as she wheezed for air. “If Uncle Hugh hears about this, you will regret it, little sister. More than you ever regretted anything before this day.”

Sophia had believed him. A direct confrontation with Cecil would never have worked. He was too large, ruthless, and without conscience; his drinking had already mottled his skin as a very young man, and his eyes showed no signs of life in their reddened, watery depths. Her sibling was a man trapped in liquor and ungodly pursuits who lived only for himself. He was on his best behavior with Uncle Hugh because the viscount paid him a quarterly allowance, so the Abbott family had not noticed how low he had sunk. The Abbotts’ heir, Aidan, might have noticed the decline, but the two men spent little time together. Cecil had been at Harrow at the time of Papa’s death before moving on to Cambridge, while her cousin had attended Eton and then Oxford, which for some reason beyond Sophia’s understanding meant they did not have much in common.

Unwilling to be a victim, she had quickly learned to hide any items that she refused to lose to his vices, and hoarded the majority of her pin money in her hiding places. The next time he came for her, she handed her reticule over without complaint, and when he questioned the value of the coins contained within, she blamed her aunt for insisting she purchase gloves and accessories for her wardrobe. Fortunately, her brother had not credited that his little sister could be lying, nor did he possess a firm grasp on what ladies paid for their trifles, so he accepted this after tossing her room for any items of value. She learned to outwit her nasty brother without him becoming wise to it. Eventually he left her alone as the amount of blunt to be gained from her became too little to bother with.

Now, however, there was a promise of twenty-five thousand pounds to lure his interest. There was no possibility that anything would distract or dissuade him from such a prize. Sophia knew she was in serious jeopardy as she listened to the men leave and debated how long she should wait before she should risk leaving her hiding place to rejoin her aunt. Her future was in imminent threat, and she would need to devise a plan, but first she must return to that infernal ball.

* * *

“What doesyour brother think he is doing?” hissed Lady Moreland. Sophia looked at her aunt in puzzlement, then followed the direction of her gaze. Cecil, with Lord Leech in tow, was weaving through the bystanders on the edge of the ballroom in their direction.

“It looks like Cecil is going to introduce Lord Leech to you. You either must dance with him or make an excuse and sit out the rest of the evening. Let me see your dance card, Sophia.” Her aunt sounded desperate as she took up the card tied to Sophia’s wrist, fanning it out and then audibly groaning when she saw the empty slots.

“Listen here, girl, you injured your ankle and are sitting out the rest of the evening!” Aunt Christiana whispered intensely as she searched Sophia’s eyes for assent, squeezing her arm in desperation. “Yes?”

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