Lady Sophia's Lover (Bow Street Runners #2)(86)

“Why tell me now?” Ross asked hoarsely.

There was nothing left to lose. She focused on a distant spot on the floor as she answered. “I hoped you could save him somehow.”

A caustic laugh escaped him. “If I could, it wouldn’t matter. Before long Gentry would do something else, and I’d be forced to arrest him again. And we would probably be in this same situation a month from now.”

“I don’t care about next month. All I care about is today.” Ross would never know what it cost her to say next, but she forced the words out. “Don’t let them hang him,” she begged. “I can’t lose John again. Do something.”

“Do what?” he snarled.

“I don’t know,” came her frantic reply. “Just find some way to keep him alive. I will talk to him, convince him that he must change, and perhaps he—”

“He’ll never change.”

“Save my brother just this once,” she persisted. “One time. I will never ask again, no matter what happens from now on.”

He did not move or speak, his shoulders bunched tightly beneath his shirt.

“Lady Sophia,” Morgan interjected gently. “I should not speak, but I must point out what is at risk for Sir Ross. All eyes are on Bow Street. Keen attention is being paid to how we handle this matter. If it is discovered that Sir Ross has interfered in the process of law, his reputation and everything he has worked for will be ruined. Furthermore, questions will be asked, and when it comes to light that Gentry is Sir Ross’s brother-in-law, the entire Cannon family will suffer the consequences.”

“I understand,” Sophia said. Painful pressure built behind her eyes, and she dug her nails into her palms to keep from crying. She stared at her husband; he still refused to face her.

There seemed to be nothing left to say. She departed the office silently, knowing that she had asked the impossible of him. Moreover, she had wounded him beyond his ability to forgive.

The two men remained alone. A long time passed before Morgan spoke. “Ross…” In all the years they had known each other, he had never called him by his first name. “Do you think there is a chance she is telling the truth?”

“Of course it’s true,” Ross replied bitterly. “It’s so damned appalling that it has to be the truth.”

After Sophia left Bow Street No. 3, she was not certain what to do. She was suddenly exhausted, as if she had gone for days without sleeping. Desolately she tried to think of what Ross would do with her. With his extensive political connections and influence, it would probably be fairly easy for him to obtain a divorce. Or perhaps he would simply install her somewhere in the country, out of sight and out of mind. Whatever he decided, Sophia would not blame him. And yet she could not conceive that he would reject her absolutely. Perhaps there was some remnant of his feelings that remained, some fragile foundation on which they could rebuild their relationship. Even if it turned out to be a flawed imitation of what they’d once had.

Dazedly she went into the bedroom they shared and changed into a light robe. It was only midday, but her weariness was overwhelming. She lay down on the wide bed and closed her eyes, welcoming the dark oblivion that rolled over her.

Much later she was awakened by the sound of someone entering the room. Groggily she realized that she had slept all afternoon. The room was much cooler, and beyond the partially drawn curtains she could see the sun yielding to the slow encroachment of evening. She sat up, watching as her husband crossed the threshold and closed the door in a decisive motion.

They regarded each other like two gladiators who had been released into the ring but were reluctant to battle.

She was the first to speak. “I’m certain that you… you must be furious with me.”

A long silence passed. Assuming that they were going to have a civilized discussion, Sophia was startled when he sprang at her in two swift strides and seized her in a rough grip. His hand tangled in her hair and he tugged her head back, crushing his mouth over hers. The bruising kiss was not meant to give pleasure but to punish. Gasping, Sophia yielded completely, opening her mouth to the aggressive thrust of his tongue, answering his angry passion with utter surrender. She told him with her lips and body that whatever he wanted of her, she would give without reserve. Eventually her lack of resistance seemed to soothe him, and he softened the kiss, still probing deeply, both of his hands cupping around her skull.

However, the embrace was short-lived. Ross let go of her as abruptly as he had seized her and put a few yards of distance between them. He sent her a baffled glare, his eyes light and piercing in his flushed face.

And then Sophia understood, as clearly as if his thoughts and feelings were her own. She had lied to him, kept secrets from him, abused his trust. Yet he still wanted her. He would forgive her anything, even murder. He loved her more than honor, even more than his pride. For a man who had always been so completely self-possessed, the realization was a unpleasant shock.

Desperately she wished for a way to reassure him that from now on, she would be worthy of his trust.

“Please let me explain,” she said in a raw voice. “I wanted to tell you about Nick, but I couldn’t. I was so afraid that once you knew—”

“You thought I would turn you away.”

She nodded, her eyes stinging.

“How many times do I have to prove myself to you?” His face twisted with fury. “Have I ever blamed you for your past mistakes? Have I ever been unfair to you?”