Wyoming Undercover. Karen WhiddonЧитать онлайн книгу.
influx of younger women. Therefore, Sophia wanted to appear as insignificant as she could possibly make herself.
Once in the clinic’s small bathroom, she splashed water on her face and redid her bun, making it as tight and severe as possible.
Glad she’d chosen to wear the dull gray work dress that morning, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and marched back into the clinic area to let Ana know she was leaving.
But someone sick had come in and Ana was doing her best to tend to him without Dr. Drew on staff, so Sophia slipped out without saying goodbye.
She took her time on the walk to the big house, nervous despite her resolution not to be. She hadn’t asked for any of this, so perhaps Deirdre would cut her a break.
All of the dwellings inside the encampment were the same, except for Ezekiel’s home, a structure befitting that of the leader, which had been built with an outer courtyard and a tall, stucco wall surrounding that, and the homes for his entourage. Native landscape—firs and oaks—had either been brought in or left in place when the structure had been built years before Sophia’s time.
The wrought-iron gate was locked. Heart pounding, Sophia pressed the call button, giving her name to the man who answered. With a buzz and a click, the gate was unlocked.
Hoping someone would show up to direct her, Sophia stepped inside. She clasped her hands together to keep the trembling from being noticeable. She wasn’t afraid, not exactly. More like uncertain and uncomfortable. She hated being put in a situation where she didn’t know what was expected of her.
She let the gate clang closed behind her, not surprised when it locked. Standing just inside the courtyard, she took in the stone bench and the large water fountain crowned with a massive cement angel.
And still no one came to fetch her. She had to stifle the urge to shake her head. Seriously, she really wanted to turn around and go back home. And she would have, except one did not ignore a summons from someone like Deirdre.
Fine. Following the stone path, she made her way toward an elaborate wood-and-iron door. First she knocked and, after waiting for a response, she tried the handle. Not sure if she should be surprised to find it unlocked, she pulled the heavy door open and entered.
Just inside, she found herself in a large, two-story foyer. Her shoes squeaked a bit on the glossy marble floor. Turning slowly, she took in the luxurious surroundings—so unlike those she knew.
She cleared her throat loudly and waited. While she could see how someone might expect her to find her way through the gate to the front door and even inside, no way in heck did she intend to start wandering around the house alone. As a matter of fact, if someone didn’t come for her soon, she planned to take it as bad-mannered rudeness and go back home.
“There you are!” a cultured, feminine voice exclaimed. “I apologize for not being there to greet you, but I had to discipline one of the younger women. Welcome, darling.”
Registering the word discipline, Sophia looked up. The white-haired woman making her way down the stairs so gracefully she appeared to float smiled warmly.
Automatically, Sophia held out her hand. “I’m Sophia Hannah,” she began.
“We’re not formal here,” Deirdre said, ignoring the outstretched fingers and going in for a hug instead. She wrapped her surprisingly sturdy arms around Sophia and held on. Sophia tried to hug back, but Deirdre had pinned her arms at her sides. Her perfume—some floral mishmash with heavy musky undertones—had been liberally applied. Sophia couldn’t help herself, though she ducked her head and tried to be as quiet as possible. She sneezed.
Immediately, Deirdre released Sophia and stepped back. “You’re not sick, are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“No, ma’am. Just allergies.”
“Don’t call me ma’am,” Deirdre snapped. Then, as Sophia tensed, her expression softened. “Sorry. That’s just one of my pet peeves.”
Sophia nodded as if she understood and waited to hear why Deirdre wanted to see her.
“Follow me,” the older woman abruptly declared, turning on her heel and marching off. Her long gown trailed behind her like a frothy cape.
Reluctantly, Sophia followed. To her surprise, Deirdre led her into a sunny and bright kitchen. Shiny stainless-steel appliances reflected the light. The counters were made of some sort of natural rock and the oak cabinets appeared sturdy and well made. The entire effect was modern and pleasing. And surprising, when Sophia considered what her kitchen looked like.
“Sit.” Deirdre indicated a chair at the round table.
She waited until Sophia had taken a seat before speaking. “You’re about to become a member of my household, and as such there are a few things we need to discuss.”
Sophia nodded. She figured she had a pretty good idea of what was coming. Rules and regulations, and words to make sure she understood how lowly her place would be in this home. Sadly, she couldn’t really blame Deirdre. She could only imagine how much it would hurt to be the first wife forced to watch while your husband took younger and younger women and made them somewhat equal.
Watching her, Deirdre’s hard expression softened. “You have no idea what you’re in for, do you?”
“No.” Sophia decided to be blunt. “I’ve never even met your husband. I have no idea why he chose me.”
Deidre gave a snort. “Child, have you looked at yourself? Ezekiel has never been able to resist a pretty face.”
Sophia wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she said nothing.
After a moment Deidre continued, “Things here are going to be a lot different from what you’re used to. How many people are in your family group?”
“Thirty-three total,” Sophia answered proudly, feeling a rush of love when she thought of them. “Twenty-four adults besides me, and eight children, though most of them live at the school now.”
Deidre raised her brows. “All paired adults, except for you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s about to change,” Deirdre said, her tone brisk. “Here, you will be one of many, but that can be a good thing. At first, Ezekiel is always obsessed with his latest woman, but eventually he’ll get distracted by someone else and will leave you alone.”
The words and their meaning made an involuntary shudder snake up Sophia’s spine. While objectively she knew she’d have to let her husband touch her, the actual thought made her want to gag.
Deirdre’s sharp gaze missed nothing. “It won’t be so bad,” she said. “We can give you a pill or drinks beforehand to blunt the experience. Are you untouched?”
“If I say no, will he call off the wedding?” Sophia couldn’t keep the hope from her voice.
“I doubt you’ll get out of this that easily.” Deidre chuckled. “Do you know how many new wives-to-be I’ve had to have this discussion with?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “Too many to count. In the early days, when Ezekiel was young, they were eager. Bent on becoming his favorite, thinking they could wrest my power from me.”
Her laugh relayed how impossible she believed such a thing to be. “Over the years, despite his penchant for taking more and more wives, things have changed. The women have gone from eager and calculating to resigned and terrified.”
Terrified? Sophia struggled to process that.
“Lately,” Deirdre continued, “the last few have been like you. Frightened, maybe even repulsed.”
Aware that Deirdre might be testing her, Sophia hurriedly shook her head. “Oh, not repulsed,” she said. “Never that. How could one be, when such a great honor has been bestowed?”
A hint of wickedness flashed in Deidre’s