Never Courted, Suddenly Wed (Scandalous Seasons #2)(75)

Lord W, has quickly tired of the plump, incorrigible Lady W, and wisely abandoned the woman in the countryside…

A sob wrenched from deep inside and filled the quiet of the hall.

Christopher had stolen her reputation, her dowry, and worst of all, her heart.

She would be damned if she turned her pride over to his greedy, cruel hands.

Sophie spun on her heel and fled.

***

Christopher’s head whipped toward the door. “What was that?”

His father waved his hand. “Probably some nosy servant. Forget them.”

Christopher fisted his hands at his side. It was all he could do to keep from punching his father. He looked down his nose, hardly daring to believe that this man shared the same blood.

For thirty years, Christopher had braved his father’s shame, abuse, and mockery. It had fueled Christopher, driven him to try and be more and earn his sire’s approval.

Over the years, his father’s disapproval had stung. Christopher had craved some kind of affirmation that the marquess was proud of his son.

Only now, staring down at his cold, calculating sire, Christopher confronted the staggering reality—nothing he did would ever be enough. His father would always be ashamed of him…

…and Christopher no longer gave a damn about his father or his opinion.

What he did care about was Sophie. Sophie filled his life with more joy, more laughter than he’d ever imagined possible.

Christopher sucked in a breath. Christ. He loved her.

His father’s brows dipped. “What?”

He loved that she sang ribald ditties. He loved her propensity to find herself in scrape after scrape. Hell, he even loved that she loved her silly, troublesome pug. He loved her with a burning hunger that threatened to consume him. At some point, her happiness had come to mean more to him than even his own.

“Did you hear what I said, Christopher?”

His entire life, Christopher had only cared about his image for the ton, and earning his father’s approval. Well, they could all go hang.

Christopher reached over the desk and jerked his father up by the front of his jacket, until they were eye to eye. “If you ever, and I mean, ever breathe one more foul word about my wife, by God, I’ll take you apart with my hands.”

The color leeched from his father’s wizened cheeks. “P-put m-me down.”

Christopher gave him a slight shake. “Only after you swear not to go anywhere near my wife.”

“But this is my home.” Christopher shook him again. “Fine. F-fine,” his father cried out.

Christopher released him.

“Where are you going,” his father barked. “I wanted to discuss the use of your wife’s funds.”

Christopher sailed out of the room. He’d wasted enough time with the marquess. He wanted to see his wife. It was time she heard the words he’d kept from her for too long.

He made his way abovestairs, hoping to find Sophie naked in a hot, lemon-scented bath. He’d join her, make sweet love to her, and then tell her the words she deserved to hear.

Christopher grinned, his heart beating fast in anticipation of seeing Sophie. Nothing mattered but her. Not his father. Not his struggle to read. Not Society’s opinion. None of it. He turned the handle and entered her chambers.

He peered around. An ominous quiet blanketed the room. His smile dipped. “Phi?”

Silence met his question.

Christopher made to leave, when he spied her in the corner, over by the window. She’d pulled the curtain back and gazed down into the space below. “There you are, Phi.”

He crossed over to her and rested his hands upon her shoulders.

Sophie stiffened. She continued to stare outside.

Christopher dropped his hands to his side. The first stirrings of alarm flared in his brain. He cleared his throat. “Are you all right, Phi?”

Sophie released the curtain. The fabric fell back into place as she turned to face him. In spite of her diminutive frame, she somehow managed to peer down her nose at him. “Tell me something, Christopher. Has it been worth it?”

“Worth it?” he repeated blankly.

“Why, you sacrificed not only your good standing with the ton by marrying the Incorrigible Miss Winters but you also gave up the woman you love.”

He blinked. What in the blazes was she talking about? “The woman I love?”

Her eyes seemed to bleed agonized pain and outrage, all at the same time. “I heard you and your father.”

Oh god, she knew. The sound outside his father’s office hadn’t been a prying servant, but his wife. His eyes slid closed and his heart plummeted somewhere in the vicinity of his toes. No!

“Yes,” she hissed.

He was unaware he’d spoken aloud. “You don’t understand, Phi.” She couldn’t possibly understand because he’d never been wholly truthful with her and as a result, she believed all the worst about him and his intentions. Could he blame her? His mind raced and he tried to recall every vile, reprehensible word spoken by his father. “It is not how it sounded.”

Sophie arched a golden eyebrow. “Oh, so you didn’t marry me for my dowry?”

“No.” The word exploded from his chest. He drew in a steadying breath. “I can certainly see how it might appear that way.”

“Come, Christopher,” she said. “Would you have me believe you married me for love?”