young enough to be your sister.”
“It’s pathetic,” the lord spat. “Immoral.”
Finlay agreed but blamed William Adair, not Sophia. “Your father knew your arrogance would be the death of you and sought to secure another heir.”
“Is that what she told you?” Adair challenged. “It’s utter twaddle. She wanted a title. They coerced my father into marriage. They bullied him into submission.”
“They?” Finlay kept his tone even. Yet the old anxieties surfaced. Tales he concocted during his darkest hours. Had Sophia married William Adair for the reasons she had stated? Was it to save Jessica or for selfish motives? “To whom do you refer?”
“Clarence Draper and his scheming daughter.”
Sophia sighed. “How many times must I tell you? Marriage was William’s idea. He spent a week trying to persuade my father as to the merits of the match.”
“Ha!” Adair looked at Finlay as if he were Chief Justice of the King’s Bench. “Whenever I mention her treachery, she spouts the same ridiculous story.”
“Heaven help me, Fitzroy!” Sophia exclaimed. “Jealousy has affected your mind. William wanted me to bear him a son. It’s the reason the nobility marry.”
“Nonsense. Clarence Draper blackmailed my father into marrying you.”
Sophia’s laugh conveyed disbelief. “That’s absurd.”
Their gestures and expressions were determined, dynamic.
One might conclude they both spoke the truth.
“Blackmail is a serious accusation,” Finlay said. “On what evidence do you base your theory?”
Before Adair replied, Sophia blurted, “Please tell me you don’t believe this nonsense.”
“I am trying to establish how he came to such a shocking conclusion.”
“Because I overheard an argument,” Adair was quick to explain. “I heard the threat. Clarence Draper told my father that if he didn’t marry, the truth would out and lives would be ruined. Tell me that isn’t a means of intimidation.”
Ah, no doubt the conversation related to Jessica’s tragic tale.
Moreover, the conversation had taken place seven years ago. Adair was an unreliable witness, equally immature.
“Was Mr Draper’s tone aggressive?”
“Well, not aggressive, no. They were disturbed by the dinner gong.”
Finlay snorted. “So moments after Mr Draper blackmailed your father, they sat down together to dine?”
The lord’s cheeks coloured. “Yes, but clearly my father was frightened out of his wits. Why else would he have married a chit half his age?”
Finlay stole a glance at Sophia. Why would any man want to marry such a vivacious woman? One kiss from those pouty pink lips and Finlay’s troubles had disappeared. Being buried deep inside her body would prove equally rewarding. Between her soft thighs, he would find his utopia. But besides Sophia’s physical appeal, her penchant for self-sacrifice, her genuine kindness and loyalty to her sister, made her utterly irresistible.
“Is that why you issue commands and insist she follow your instructions?”
Clearly, the lord enjoyed taunting Sophia in front of his friends. Were it not for her fears over Jessica’s welfare, she might easily belittle this coxcomb to the distinguished members of the ton.
Adair glanced at Sophia as if she were something foul stuck to his shoe. “She used devious tactics to snare a title, and so she can damn well do her duty.”
Strange. As an enquiry agent, Finlay numbed his emotions. It wasn’t always possible. During harrowing cases he often spent a night alone, cradling a bottle of brandy. It wasn’t possible now. The need to protect Sophia burned so fiercely he wanted to bury his fist in Adair’s haughty little mouth, bury the lord alive in a coffin six feet under.
Sophia squared her shoulders. “Well, I’ve had a change of heart. I’m tired of your petty demands. No longer will I play the wicked stepmother so you may be the tyrant. Find another means of gratification.”
Rather than offer an angry retort, the lord flicked a lock of blonde hair from his brow and laughed. “While you carry my father’s name, you will do what I say, madam.” Adair’s self-assured hubris would be his downfall. His arrogance made him forgetful of the danger. “Use of the house in Portman Street and the majority of your allowance is given on the proviso you fulfil your duties. If I say dance, your only question should be a waltz or a reel.”
An unholy rage rang in Finlay’s ears, drowning out the lord’s mocking chuckle. The punch was swift, delivered to Adair’s stomach with maximum force.
Finlay stepped back for fear he might wring the imbecile’s scrawny neck.
Adair dropped to his knees, clutching his abdomen and gasping for breath.
Finlay crouched down beside the devil and said through gritted teeth, “Mind your tongue, else I shall cut it out and serve it