Read Online Lady Sophia's Rescue (Traditional Regency Romance) by Cheryl Bolen - Free Book Online
Authors: Cheryl Bolen
Tags: Romance, Historical Romance, Regency Romance, Romance - Historical, romance adult fiction, english romance, historical ebooks
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Finkel."
Mr. Birmingham stiffened, then ever so slowly turned around to face her, searing anger in his eyes.
Uh oh. She could not allow Mr. Birmingham to send her back to her lawful husband. "Pray," Sophia rasped, remembering that she was supposed to be ill, "I beg that you . . ." she clutched his forearm and grasped at her chest, "take us away from these beasts, especially the odious Lord Finkel." Then she went into a mock swoon, knowing full well she would find herself in His arms before she met the pavement.
* * *
Damn the cursed woman! Would that he'd never heard the name Isadore. How could he have been such a fool to even consider that she might be The One? He could have looked high and low over the three kingdoms and not found a more disreputable woman.
Just this morning, the no-good, smuggling, lying, married charlatan had feigned her damned illness. Not twenty minutes after he'd reluctantly left the infirm beauty, he'd come across the able-bodied wench and – foolishly thinking she was a helpless maiden – once more had been obliged to extricate her from cutthroats. For he was convinced a man as dastardly as Finkel would not have men in his employ unless they were those lowest sort of criminal.
But if Isadore was Finkel's accomplice in his sordid dealings, why would he be trying to force her back to him? And why would she display unmistakable signs of repugnance at the mention of her husband's name?
William hadn't heard of Finkel marrying. Just two weeks ago he was heiress hunting.
Good lord, had the fiend Finkel forced Isadore into marriage in order to get his hands on the gold bullion? Isadore might be a lying cheat, but he could tell when someone was terrified. Both the Door sisters – if that was their real name – were so frightened, he'd had to force two glasses of brandy down them in order to quell the trembling in their limbs and quiver in their voices once he got them to the safety of his house.
He faced Isadore as she sat on the silken sofa in his library, a glass of brandy in her elegant hand. He made no effort to hide the signs of his blistering rage. "So the terribly ill Miss Isadore Door rather easily roused herself from her sickbed?" His narrowed eyes took in her cowering form. "You, Lady Finkel, bloody well will not leave this house until I get the eighty-thousand guineas worth of gold bullion."
Her great eyes widened, but she said nothing.
"Tell me, my lady, did Finkel force you into marrying him? Did he have. . .documents he was going to suppress from being published—"
"How did you know?" she asked.
"I've been aware of the man's underhanded methods of amassing riches since he caused the death of my friend five years ago."
"How did he cause the death of your friend?"
"My friend had conducted an affair with his own brother's wife. The only person who knew of it, beside me, was Finkel. The publisher Josiah Smith threatened to publish the details of the affair in his Evening Chronicle if my friend did not pay an exorbitant sum to suppress publication. When my friend failed to raise the sum, he committed suicide rather than face his brother.
"Finkel had to have supplied the information to Smith. I believe that brokering such information is the method by which Finkel's managed to rescue his estates from the auction block."
"Dear God," she said, her brows lowered. "You must be right!"
"I take it, in your situation, he possessed information about the bullion."
Silence penetrated the chamber like a resounding echo. Finally, she said, "That. . .and more. He told me if I would marry him he would keep the printer Smith from disclosing something which would ruin my younger sister."
"When did this marriage of yours take place?"
"The night I met you was my. . .thwarted wedding night."
Something deep inside him uncoiled, and his anger began to dissipate. "You had the good sense to leave him?"
She nodded solemnly. "I panicked as soon as I was alone with him. I couldn't. . ."
He held up
Mr. Birmingham stiffened, then ever so slowly turned around to face her, searing anger in his eyes.
Uh oh. She could not allow Mr. Birmingham to send her back to her lawful husband. "Pray," Sophia rasped, remembering that she was supposed to be ill, "I beg that you . . ." she clutched his forearm and grasped at her chest, "take us away from these beasts, especially the odious Lord Finkel." Then she went into a mock swoon, knowing full well she would find herself in His arms before she met the pavement.
* * *
Damn the cursed woman! Would that he'd never heard the name Isadore. How could he have been such a fool to even consider that she might be The One? He could have looked high and low over the three kingdoms and not found a more disreputable woman.
Just this morning, the no-good, smuggling, lying, married charlatan had feigned her damned illness. Not twenty minutes after he'd reluctantly left the infirm beauty, he'd come across the able-bodied wench and – foolishly thinking she was a helpless maiden – once more had been obliged to extricate her from cutthroats. For he was convinced a man as dastardly as Finkel would not have men in his employ unless they were those lowest sort of criminal.
But if Isadore was Finkel's accomplice in his sordid dealings, why would he be trying to force her back to him? And why would she display unmistakable signs of repugnance at the mention of her husband's name?
William hadn't heard of Finkel marrying. Just two weeks ago he was heiress hunting.
Good lord, had the fiend Finkel forced Isadore into marriage in order to get his hands on the gold bullion? Isadore might be a lying cheat, but he could tell when someone was terrified. Both the Door sisters – if that was their real name – were so frightened, he'd had to force two glasses of brandy down them in order to quell the trembling in their limbs and quiver in their voices once he got them to the safety of his house.
He faced Isadore as she sat on the silken sofa in his library, a glass of brandy in her elegant hand. He made no effort to hide the signs of his blistering rage. "So the terribly ill Miss Isadore Door rather easily roused herself from her sickbed?" His narrowed eyes took in her cowering form. "You, Lady Finkel, bloody well will not leave this house until I get the eighty-thousand guineas worth of gold bullion."
Her great eyes widened, but she said nothing.
"Tell me, my lady, did Finkel force you into marrying him? Did he have. . .documents he was going to suppress from being published—"
"How did you know?" she asked.
"I've been aware of the man's underhanded methods of amassing riches since he caused the death of my friend five years ago."
"How did he cause the death of your friend?"
"My friend had conducted an affair with his own brother's wife. The only person who knew of it, beside me, was Finkel. The publisher Josiah Smith threatened to publish the details of the affair in his Evening Chronicle if my friend did not pay an exorbitant sum to suppress publication. When my friend failed to raise the sum, he committed suicide rather than face his brother.
"Finkel had to have supplied the information to Smith. I believe that brokering such information is the method by which Finkel's managed to rescue his estates from the auction block."
"Dear God," she said, her brows lowered. "You must be right!"
"I take it, in your situation, he possessed information about the bullion."
Silence penetrated the chamber like a resounding echo. Finally, she said, "That. . .and more. He told me if I would marry him he would keep the printer Smith from disclosing something which would ruin my younger sister."
"When did this marriage of yours take place?"
"The night I met you was my. . .thwarted wedding night."
Something deep inside him uncoiled, and his anger began to dissipate. "You had the good sense to leave him?"
She nodded solemnly. "I panicked as soon as I was alone with him. I couldn't. . ."
He held up
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