The Seduction of Sophie Seacrest (13 page)

Her gasp echoed throughout the room.
The
only gentlemanly thing to do! As though he were doing her a
favor.
“But we both know you are no gentleman.”

“Even I, on occasion, can behave as one.”

“You lied to me.” She moved toward him
.
“
You let me care for you knowing full well how I felt about
your family. You pursued me for Seacrest Shipping, but you won’t
get the company because I won’t marry you.”

Holt’s expression hardened. “You think I
wasted my time and an enormous amount of aggravation for Seacrest
Shipping? I could buy ten of them. I don’t give a damn about your
company, but in case you haven’t perused a balance sheet lately, if
your father doesn’t stop his ridiculous vendetta against my family,
there won’t be a company to worry about.”

“Of course you would say such a thing. You
don’t want our company to succeed unless you’re running it. Yes,
you could buy ten or twenty Seacrest Shippings but it’s not about
the money, is it? You’re out to settle a score for your family; the
scrawny outcast returns to achieve something even his father
couldn’t. Take over Seacrest Shipping and destroy my father.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Holt poured yet
another drink, his fourth if Sophie were counting correctly. He was
past furious, his massive strength barely leashing his anger and
she wondered once again how a sickly boy could turn into such a
fierce man. He advanced on her, forcing her to back up to prevent
contact with his person. “What now, my sweet? You don’t like my
touch? A Langford isn’t good enough for you? I recall you were
certainly willing enough when you thought me a gamekeeper.”

“How dare you. A gentleman would not be so
crude as to make comment on past indiscretions.”

Reaching for a stray tendril of her hair, he
ran it through his fingers. “As you recently reminded me, I am no
gentleman, am I, my sweet?”

She’d had enough of his game playing. Sophie
stepped out of his reach and said, “You are a Langford and you
deceived me to get my father’s company. I’m not such a fool as to
think an earl could not marry anyone he chose. Yet, you would have
me believe you’ve selected the daughter of a man who drinks to
forget his past and numb his future? My family has been disgraced
because of your father. Surely you’ve been back long enough to have
heard the rumors.”

“Do tell.”

“They say my mother and your father were
lovers. They planned to run away until Father stopped them. And my
mother was so broken-hearted she killed herself.” Her voice slipped
to a whisper. “That’s been the rumor for years, but it’s not
true.”

“No?”

“It’s a lie. Your father forced himself on my
mother and then tried to blackmail her into an affair so Father
wouldn’t find out.”

“I’ve heard a different story.”

She ignored him. “My mother’s death is on
your family’s hands. Your father wouldn’t leave her alone.”
And
got her with child.
She’d rather die than tell him Caroline was
his half sister. Her breathing grew ragged as she forced herself to
continue, “One day, when she could take it no longer, she killed
herself.”

Holt leaned toward her and took her hands.
She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t welcome his touch either. “I
don’t want your father’s company and I don’t want to continue this
ridiculous feud. Whoever told you my father raped your mother was
lying. They were lovers. I have it on good authority this is the
truth. I don’t give a damn about that. I should have told you who I
was, but it started out innocently enough.” He released her hands
and rested them on her shoulders. “Look at me, Sophie. Please.”

She inched her gaze to meet his.

“We belong together,” he said. “You can’t
deny it.”

She could. She must. Hadn’t her father told
her for years the Langfords would stop at nothing to control
Seacrest Shipping? Sophie stepped out of his reach. “A man capable
of lying about his identity is capable of anything.” She pulled her
lips into a false smile. “I’m certain there are several, available
young women who would jump at the chance to become Lady Westover.
I, however, do not happen to be one of them.”

Then she turned and walked through the door
that would separate their lives forever. She had taken no more than
a few steps when she heard the crash of glass against stone. Not
unlike the feel of her heart breaking into a million pieces. She
quickened her pace and fled up the stairs, tears streaming silently
down her cheeks.

Chapter 15

Three days passed during which time Sophie
barely slept and ate no more than a few nibbles of cheese and
crackers. For heaven’s sake, crying off with Holt Langford had been
the right thing to do. Fortunately, she’d discovered what a true
blackguard he was before she actually married him. Why then could
she not keep her eyes from tearing each time she thought of their
last encounter?

Why did she break into uncontrollable weeping
when she recalled his stoic expression as she smugly told him she
would
not
marry him? Was it hysterical relief at so narrowly
missing a life of deceit and treachery? A polite knock at the door
scattered her thoughts and she quickly dabbed at her eyes. Caroline
entered and flopped on the bed looking worried and preoccupied. She
was such a beautiful child, with her ebony curls and blue eyes;
eyes that were the same midnight blue as Holt’s. How could she have
forgotten the Langford eyes? Despite his frail nature, a young Holt
Langford had possessed the most mesmerizing eyes she’d ever seen.
He’d only seen Caroline once and perhaps he hadn’t noticed the
resemblance. She hoped.

Why are you so sad?
Caroline signed
this question with her fingers.

Sophie hesitated a moment, debating what to
tell her sister. Then she began to move her own fingers slowly in
response.
I trusted someone who wasn’t honest with me and it
hurt me very much.

Mr. Thurston?

Sophie nodded. “Now, enough questions on this
subject. I’m feeling much better today.” It would do no good to
continue wallowing in sorrow and self-pity. Holt Langford was a
liar and a cheat and no amount of crying would change that. It was
time to inform her father she would not be marrying the man he’d
held in such high regard. Of course, she could not tell him the
reason, for if he found out, he’d undoubtedly force a duel and end
up dead.

The best way to handle matters was to simply
say they’d both agreed they did not suit. She’d conjure up tears
and reticence to further discuss the subject, which should not be
difficult. No, appearing overwrought would require no great amount
of play-acting because the emotions roiling inside were all too
real.

***

A short while before lunch, Sophie and
Caroline returned from the stables. How wonderful to race the
horses flat out across the meadows, mindless of all else save the
natural elements of their surroundings. The ground stretched hard
beneath them, partly covered in spots with the colorful display of
early leaves. Rows of evergreens lined the countryside like
soldiers standing guard. Even the sky added to the magnificence of
the day with its blueness that floated overhead, creating a perfect
backdrop for the sun.

The ride had given Sophie ample time to
decide how to inform her father of the broken engagement and tell
him she must, for too many days had passed with him believing her
upcoming nuptials would transpire. After she sent Caroline off to
the kitchen in search of cocoa and lemon tarts, Sophie smoothed her
mussed hair and knocked softly on the library door.

“Enter.” Her father glanced up from an array
of books and documents scattering the top of his desk. “Well my
girl, I’m glad to see you are on the mend and feeling yourself
again. I was beginning to think we should call the doctor in to
examine you.” His thin face appeared sallow in the morning light,
his once keen eyes sunken and glazed. On his desk, though
discreetly placed, rested a goblet of amber liquid, half-f.

She pretended she did not smell the alcohol
on his breath or note the rumpled clothing as she kissed his
forehead. It would do no good to nag him yet again for it always
ended badly, with tears and arguments. Eventually, it became a
closed subject, politely ignored but ever present.

“Thank you for your concern, Father. I’m
feeling much better today.” She seated herself across from his desk
and said, “I have some rather grave news to share.”

“Grave news? By God, you are ill, aren’t
you?”

The words she’d practiced until well past
midnight fell out in an emotionless lump. “Mr. Thurston and I have
broken the engagement.”

“What?” He stared at her as though she’d
informed him she had the ability to sprout wings and fly. “How can
that be?”

Tears slipped onto her cheeks, real tears,
not the ones she’d told herself she might have to conjure up. “We
decided we wouldn’t suit. Oh Father, it’s too difficult to
discuss.”

“But,” he rubbed his stubbled chin, “this
makes no sense. Does he expect us to give the money back? We can’t
do that.” He gripped the glass of whiskey and took a healthy
swallow. “We can’t do that.”

“Money?”

“Hell yes, money. Lots of it. Good Lord.” He
rubbed his neck. “What could this mean?”

“Father, what money?”

“When I accepted his offer for you, he sent a
bank draft. A very large bank draft, intended to purchase a vast
amount of stock in Seacrest Shipping as well as finance the design
and construction of a new type of ship. There were also provisions
for renovations to the warehouse and modifications to equipment.
All in all,” he sighed, “a great deal of money changed hands. We
agreed on how it was to be spent and I even signed documents
attesting to such matters.” His faded eyes gleamed. “It was an
opportunity for a second chance without a Langford breathing down
my neck.”

“I see.”

“Now, I don’t know what will happen.”

Holt Langford
had
wanted control of
the company. It was indeed the only reason he’d offered for her and
her poor, guileless father had ignorantly gone along with the
plan.

“It would appear Mr. Thurston was more
interested in Seacrest Shipping than in me.”

He gave her a very odd look, then leaned his
bony elbows on the desk and shook his head. “Every share of
Seacrest Shipping was purchased in your name. It was to be your
wedding gift.”

***

Sophie urged her mount along the narrow lanes
to Ellswood.
Why?
The question burned her brain, screaming
at her, driving her half insane. From the moment her father uttered
the words, she heard nothing but her heart pounding against her
chest. Why would Holt be so adamant about giving her shares in the
company for a wedding gift? Had it been his way of reassuring her
he was not after Seacrest Shipping? Especially after she learned of
his true heritage?

Had she misjudged the whole situation? Did he
truly care for her, even a little? She must speak with him. But he
was still a Langford and he had still lied to her. She anguished
over the possibility that he had also been telling the truth about
their parents. Oh, but if that were true, it would indeed be a
painful revelation. So many years spent estranged from her best
friend, thinking the worst of the entire Langford family, even
breaking her engagement to a man she loved in the name of a family
revenge which was not warranted. Could all of these years have been
a lie?

She had to see Holt. If indeed she’d wrongly
accused him, she would beg his forgiveness and hopefully, he would
still want her for his wife.

Chapter 16

Sophie followed Jaffe into the marbled foyer.
The butler showed no emotion at her request, other than a slightly
raised brow, before excusing himself and wandering down the dimly
lit hall to disappear behind one of the heavy oak doors. She
remembered Jaffe from childhood, recalling his obsessive need for
decorum and propriety. Did the man ever laugh or even smile? And
did he know Gregory Thurston’s true identity?

Within minutes, Jaffe reappeared and ushered
her toward the room he had recently exited. She should have taken
the time to change and tidy up. For heaven’s sake, she still wore
her riding habit from this morning and her hair must look a fright.
No matter, she must speak with Holt at once. She ignored her sweaty
palms and forced herself to concentrate on her breathing as she
entered the library.

The man behind the desk wasn’t Holt.
Disappointment shot through her as she recognized Jason Langford.
Now she would have to inquire as to Holt’s whereabouts and wait for
his return if he were out. Once Jaffe quit the room she approached
Jason and for the first time noticed his state of dishevelment. His
usually clean-shaven face was covered with stubble, his eyes were
bleak and haunted, his once immaculate lawn shirt wrinkled and open
several inches. The desk lay strewn with wadded-up papers, and
half-empty decanters. A trail of broken glass scattered the base of
the large fireplace as though someone had spent a considerable
amount of time and pent up frustration hurling goblets at the
stone. Something was very wrong and she had a horrible feeling she
was part of it. “Hello, Jason. I’ve come to speak with Holt.”

His jaw twitched a few times, his eyes
narrowing almost imperceptibly as he studied her.

“Jason, what’s wrong?”

“Holt isn’t here.” The words fell out sadly,
apologetically.

“Oh.” She’d been so worried over what must be
said she hadn’t considered not having the opportunity to say it.
“Well,” she cleared her throat. “May I wait for him?”