My Seductive Innocent (50 page)

Sophia folded the letter and pondered what to do. She should tell Nathan, but then again, he was in meetings and would probably be in them all day. She could easily walk to the address Ellison had jotted down. She’d seen that street yesterday on the way here.

Her heart wrenched a bit for Ellison and how he must feel, must have always felt, rather unimportant next to Nathan, though she knew that was not because of anything Nathan had intentionally done. It was simply fate. Nathan was the duke. He was handsome, magnetic, and sophisticated in contrast to Ellison’s dull looks, rather listless charms, and stilted, often almost-bumbling personality. She knew what it was to feel inadequate.

She’d go to him and see if she could help him while also helping to mend the fracture she saw developing between him and Nathan.

I
t was easy enough to slip out unnoticed. The servants were busy packing the trunks and preparing for her and Nathan’s departure for Whitecliffe tomorrow. The walk was quick, and she had no trouble finding the place Ellison had rented. She knocked on the door, and when Ellison answered it himself, she hid her shock with a smile.

His face tinted red as his gaze locked with hers. “I cannot afford servants if I am to remain living on solely what is mine and support my mother, as well. She has a rather lavish lifestyle she wants to maintain and she does not appreciate the fact that I no longer want Scarsdale to help me.”

Sophia linked her arm through Ellison’s. “I think you are marvelous for wanting your independence, but I know Nathan would never think to deny you anything you needed.”

Ellison gave her an odd look, but then he smiled, though she could tell from its tightness that it was forced. “Come in and I’ll get you some tea.”

She nodded and followed him into the sparsely decorated house. Truly, it looked as if he did not even live here. Frowning and suddenly feeling slightly uneasy, she slowed her pace and almost considered leaving, but then she shook the nonsense away. He was probably loath to settle into surroundings that were so meager compared to what he was accustomed.

After he showed her into the parlor, he went to get them some tea. As she sat on the light-blue threadbare settee, she glanced around the room. One painting decorated the wall. Two men were in the painting, one whom looked very much like Nathan.

Ellison came in as she was looking at it. He closed the door behind him and walked over to where she sat and handed her a cup of tea. He took a sip from his own and then glanced at her as if urging her to do the same, so she did. The tea was very bitter and she fought the urge to purse her lips in disgust. She made to set it down, not overly thirsty anyway, and he laughed.

“I’m terrible at making tea. Such a simple thing, too. I cannot do anything right, I suppose.”

Sophia’s heart twisted in pity, and she raised the teacup back to her lips. “It’s delicious, truly. I was just giving it a moment to cool, but my!” She took another sip. “It already has cooled.”

“You are a very sweet liar.”

“No!” she gushed and drank the entire bitter cup down.

Ellison pointed to the painting and said, “The man on the left is my father and the one on the right is Scarsdale’s father. Did you know they were twins?”

She shook her head and frowned. Her head felt very strange, heavy somehow.

Ellison didn’t spare her a glance, thank goodness. He continued talking as she struggled to concentrate. “They never looked alike,” Ellison said, his voice sounding odd to her.

Sophia squinted at the picture as her vision had suddenly become blurry. The awful feeling was familiar and reminded her very much of how she’d felt the night she’d gotten sick at Whitecliffe. Her gut twisted with fear.

“Ellison,” she choked out, finding it hard to talk because her tongue felt numb.

He kept talking as if he had not heard her. “Everyone always said that from the moment they came out of the womb, Scarsdale’s father was the golden child, just like Scarsdale. I had a nanny that told me my father was actually born first, but the last duchess made everyone say Scarsdale’s father was eldest because he was the most handsome and, therefore, would make the best duke.”

“Ellison!” she said sharply, as the room around her started spinning.

He stood abruptly and looked down at her, then strode across the room toward a desk in the corner. As he walked, it hit her that he was not limping, and the uneasy feeling exploded into something more like suspicion. She licked her dry lips, even as her throat screamed for water. “You’re not limping.”

The smile on his face when he turned chilled her to the bone. “It’s been gone for years, but I had to keep up the pretense as the poor, fat, crippled cousin until Scarsdale was dead.”

She pressed her sweaty palms to her hot forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m happy to explain it to you, Sophia, since you will soon be dead yourself.” Panic filled her chest as he went on, not giving her a chance to speak. “Years ago, I became sick and tired of listening to my mother put me down and complain about how I should have been the duke, how she should have married Scarsdale’s father and not mine because then she would have been duchess, and I decided to do something about it.”

Sophia’s ears were ringing so loudly it took great effort to hear, let alone comprehend, every word.

“Instead of sitting around as I had been and letting my life pass me by, I formed a plan, and the first part of the plan was to see if I could walk without a cane so my mother would quit calling me a pathetic cripple. Imagine my surprise when I started walking with no limp at all. It was two years’ worth of excruciating exercise that made me toss my accounts, but I did it.”

Sophia tried to get up to run but her legs would not work
.
“Ellison, what have you done to me?”

He smiled again and the coldness of it made her almost certain he had gone mad.

“I’ve poisoned you so you wouldn’t give me any fuss.”

“What?”
Her head was reeling, her heart hammering.

“Mother wanted me to kill you right away. I promised her before she left for Bath yesterday that I would. But
I’m
doing all the dirty work, so I will do it my way for once. And I want to kill you with Scarsdale watching, and then I will kill him.”

Sophia clutched at the side of the settee, but even her fingers felt weak. She started to slump over, but Ellison reached out and steadied her. His face came near hers. “It’s not personal, Sophia. In fact, I rather like you, but you stand between me and the dukedom.” He placed a hand on her belly. “I know Scarsdale well, and I’m quite certain you could be carrying his child.”

She glanced down and moaned.

“Finally, Scarsdale will know what it is to feel helpless and weak compared to me.”

“You’re mad,” she whispered, unable to make her voice come out any stronger.

He shook his head. “No. Not mad. A madman would have rushed. I took my time. I knew I didn’t need to rush because Scarsdale was not rushing into marriage, and frankly, he was making me a lot of money with his business decisions. Well, technically”―he grinned in a way that made her skin crawl―“he was making himself money, but I knew I would eventually inherit it. Plus, when people rush, they become careless. Don’t you agree?”

He was beyond mad! She couldn’t even speak now. Tears began to leak from her eyes.

“Oh dear,” he said on a sigh and swiped at her face. “I hate to see a woman cry. Mother cried when we did not succeed at killing Scarsdale that first time. The bumbling man we hired botched the job. All he had to do was run Scarsdale over with a carriage and the fool missed him. So we thought quickly, and Mother, Ravensdale, and I put our heads together, and we decided to ambush Scarsdale. But then you came along, you little minx, and you helped Scarsdale escape his fate once again.” Ellison sighed loudly. “Mother was not happy, but when her poisoned wine did not do you in, I thought she might just make a fatal mistake. I tell you, I fretted day and night until I managed to come up with a new plan. It should have worked.” Spittle flew out of Ellison’s mouth. “I thought it did work.”

He released Sophia, and she slumped over on the settee. Her mind screamed but nothing else would cooperate. Not even her eyes would stay open. The settee creaked as Ellison got up. He circled his hands around her waist and hauled her up and threw her over his shoulder. She flopped there and fought back the encroaching darkness.

“Everyone has his own agenda, it seems.”

She jostled as he carried her out of the room. “Ravensdale said he wanted Scarsdale dead as much as I did, but he lied. He wanted to torture him. If Ravensdale were not already dead, I’d eagerly kill him for how he has made me work even more for what should be mine. What is rightfully mine. His foolish desire almost lost me everything because your damn husband refused to die. I suppose it will be rather poetic in the end. It seems I’ll be much like kings of the past. I have to take my throne by force. And then I will have earned it.”

Sophia could not hold on any longer. With a ragged exhale, the darkness claimed her.

N
athan finished his meeting with Sir Richard, Aversley, and Harthorne around dusk and sat at his desk long after they left. He stared out the window into the darkening sky and contemplated what Sir Richard had said. He’d not had any good leads yet, so Nathan simply had to be patient. They’d spent all day going over every detail Nathan could recall of Ravensdale’s crew, and Sir Richard had vowed to double his efforts.

Feeling tired and tense, he went in search of Sophia to find comfort in her smile and her arms, but thirty minutes later, when he had combed the house and not been able to locate her, he stared to become concerned. He paced the floor, trying to think. Maybe she had gone to see Amelia? No, the carriage was still at home. He racked his mind, and just as he was about to get in the carriage to search the streets for her, a knock came at the door.

Nathan brushed past the butler and footman and swung open the door. “Ellison,” he said, trying to hide his annoyance that it was not Sophia. “Now is not a good time.”

Ellison clapped him on the shoulder. “I have a confession.”

Nathan frowned. “What is it?”

“I sent a note to your wife earlier to come see my new townhome and take tea with me. I wanted to beg her forgiveness.”

Nathan fairly shoved Ellison out of the way to get out the door, expecting to see Sophia there, but the street was empty. Not even Ellison’s carriage was there.

“Where’s Sophia?”

Ellison grinned. “She’s at my home. I came to fetch you so we can all have dinner together. I’ve a new French cook and I talked Sophia into staying, so what say you? Will you come? If you won’t, I vow Sophia will be disappointed. I’m trying to be more independent, Scarsdale.”

“So it would seem,” Nathan agreed. “How far is your home?”

“One block. Close enough for the two of you to walk home on a beautiful night like this. If a cripple like me can walk it, you can.”

Nathan frowned at Ellison’s self-deprecating remark but decided not to comment, and without a parting word to the staff, they left.

They walked in silence most of the way, but when they neared the townhome Ellison indicated was his, he paused and faced Nathan. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Nathan cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For being churlish about you giving me the townhome the other night. I think what has happened is good. I need to learn to stand on my own without any help.”

“If you wish it. But I never minded sharing with you, Ellison. You are my family.”

Ellison smiled as they went to the door, and he let them in while explaining that he was in the process of interviewing for a footman and butler.

“Welcome to my home,” Ellison crowed and clapped Nathan on the left shoulder, in the exact spot he had been shot so many months ago. Nathan flinched, and Ellison laughed. “Sorry. Did I hit the old bullet wound?”

“Yes,” Nathan replied, shutting the door behind him, and then frowning, as he stared at his cousin’s back, confused. “But I never told you which shoulder I was shot in...”

Ellison stopped and turned slowly around. He had a pistol pointed at Nathan. “No, you didn’t, but that bastard Ravensdale did.”