The Virgin Who Ruined Lord Gray - Anna Bradley Page 0,116
it, and a moment later Lady Clifford entered the bedchamber. She glanced at Sophia huddled under the covers Cecilia had draped over her, and her face softened. “Ah, that’s good, dear. You’ve managed to get some sleep.”
“Just for little while, yes.” Cecilia wrung her hands, tutting as she gazed anxiously at Lady Clifford. “My goodness, my lady. You look in dire need of some sleep yourself.”
Lady Clifford was sagging with fatigue, and her smooth face was creased with worry. Her fair hair had fallen from its elegant chignon and was plastered to her damp forehead. She pushed a lock of it back and gave Cecilia a wan smile. “I don’t look nearly as bad as poor Mr. Wakeford does. Another hour, and the dear man would have collapsed.”
Cecilia glanced at Sophia, who’d sprung bolt upright when Lady Clifford entered the room, but hadn’t yet managed to say a word. “And Lord Gray? How does he do?”
Lady Clifford sat down on the edge of the bed and took Sophia’s hand. “I know you’ve been anxious, dearest. I beg your pardon for not coming sooner, but I wanted to wait until I had something definitive to tell you.”
Definitive. Sophia’s throat moved in a swallow. Was Lady Clifford trying to tell her Tristan was dead? “Is he…is Tristan…”
“Lord Gray is doing as well as can be expected, given the severity of his injuries. He’s resting comfortably at the moment.” Lady Clifford frowned. “That is, resting as comfortably as any gentleman who’s taken a dagger to his chest can be, which is to say, not so comfortably at all. But one takes what one can get, doesn’t one? He’s alive and breathing, which is remarkable enough, considering the circumstances.”
Sophia was very still for a long moment, staring at Lady Clifford, then all of her strength drained from her at once and she collapsed back against the pillow. “He’s…he’s alive? He’s going to be all right?” Her voice was faint, as if she didn’t dare believe Lady Clifford could be telling her the truth.
Lady Clifford squeezed Sophia’s hand. “For the moment, he is. Mr. Wakeford can’t make any promises regarding Lord Gray’s future condition, of course, but he seems inclined to be optimistic.”
“But…how? I saw Poole stab him, a vicious blow, right in Tristan’s chest. How could he have survived it?” Sophia gripped Lady Clifford’s hand, her eyes pleading. “Are you q-quite sure he’s all right, my lady?”
“I’m quite sure he’s still alive, yes. It’s a bit of a strange tale, really. Giles Wakeford was astonished when we removed Lord Gray’s shirt, and realized what had happened.”
Cecilia looked at Sophia, then at Lady Clifford. “What do you mean? What happened?”
Lady Clifford didn’t answer right away. She studied Sophia, her head cocked to the side, but then she reached into the pocket of her skirts and drew something out. Cecilia had drawn the curtains closed to darken the room while Sophia slept, but muted light from a low lamp on the table revealed a glint of silver and a long, heavy chain.
Sophia gasped. “My locket! How do you happen to have it? I left it at…”
Tristan’s. He’d taken it off her last night, and laid it on the table beside his bed. She’d left in such a rush yesterday, she’d forgotten it.
Sophia’s gaze met Lady Clifford’s. The only way Lady Clifford could have the locket now was if she’d gotten it from Tristan. He must have found it on the table, taken it up, and brought it with him to St. Clement Dane’s Church last night. “Lady Clifford?”
“I took it off Lord Gray.” Lady Clifford was watching Sophia closely. “He was wearing it around his neck.”
Tristan had been wearing her locket? Sophia stared at Lady Clifford, her mouth falling open in shock. “H-he was wearing it?”
Lady Clifford fingered the locket in her palm, then took it up by the chain and let it dangle between her fingers. “Look at it, dearest. Here, right in middle.”
She held the locket out to Sophia, who took it, laying it face up in her palm. There was something there, right in the center of the plain silver oval. A mark, or…
Sophia’s eyes went wide, and a soft cry left her lips. “No. It can’t be.”
But it was. There, right in the center where the locket rested over the wearer’s heart was a small hole, the same size as…
As the tip of a dagger.
Sophia fumbled at the catch on the locket, her hands trembling. She thought she already knew what she’d