I. Of the Past

“You are causing them great frustration, darling,” Eddie said to his wife. A wicked smile curled his wife’s lips and he chuckled, his eyes wrinkling as he did so. “You do enjoy it.”

Fiona Trilby’s unsteadily settled beside him in the couch. “Of course I do, Eddie.”

His smile softened as he took her wrinkly hand in his. “You gave them a glimpse of a world they never knew existed. Through your books you managed to cause them to thirst for more of that world and its people. An underground world that lives in the past, its people who are trapped in their own societal standards, their petty scandals and most of all, their enchanting tales of love,” he added and then scoffed. “Of course our grandchildren would want for more.”

“They are desperate for the answers, are they not?”

“You need not ask, my dear.” He shook his head and let the silence fall between them. Turning to his wife, he asked, “But I cannot help but think that you are avoiding telling them the true version of the stories.”

Fiona gripped his hand tighter. “I do not know what you are talking about, darling.”

Eddie shifted in the couch to give his wife a level look. “Perhaps the children ought to know the real story behind your fairytales.” Fiona averted her eyes. She had grown old and he was there to witness it—he went through the journey with her—and his heart filled with an overwhelming feeling far beyond love.

“I wrote them not to tell facts, Eddie. I wrote them the way I would have wanted.”

“You intended to write fairytales, yes,” he said with a sigh. “But things unfolded differently from the truth, my dear—some of them at the very least. You wrote fairytales based on events that held their own facts and you cannot deny that no matter how you wish you can. We cannot leave our granddaughters with a flimsy and incomplete history. I believe they are old enough to understand that magical fairytales are only for fiction.” Eddie gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “My dear, you should share to them what you did not tell our daughter—what you did not write in those books.”

He knew she was pretending not to consider his statement for he knew his wife all too well. Yet he also knew his granddaughters to be certain that they would not stop until their questions were answered.

If his wife did not write those books about the Everards, Violet and Valerie would not be in their home at that moment, sleeping in the guest room. If they did not find his wife’s books in the cabin and read them from start to end, they would not have questions about the Everards—they would not have questions about the Trilbys.

And he had promised the twins that he would tell them about the Trilbys. But telling them about the Trilbys meant telling them what truly happened with the Everards. For it all started there—everything started with the Everards.

“Fee,” he insisted, “you and I very well know that you have left out many things from Nick’s story to the last one.”

“Nick’s?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.

“The sixth book, dear,” he wryly stated. “Where it all started.”

Finally, Fiona sighed and met his eyes. Hers were filled with tenderness and love as they glimmered with tears. “You know why, Eddie.”

He gave his wife a tender look. “You are trying to protect me.”

“No—yes, I believe I am.”

“Fee, I did no wrong. My family is not who I am.”

Fiona let out a breath. “Then perhaps you are correct. Perhaps it is time I provide the girls the missing details.”

Eddie leaned forward and gave his wife’s temple a kiss. “Yes. Tell them what truly happened so I can tell them what happened.”

II. The Messenger

Her lids were heavy as they fluttered open.

The intense pain in her head followed and she shut them close once again, her mind concentrated on numbing the pain. And as it did ebb away, she remembered what she saw when she opened her eyes.

Nothing.

Utter blackness.

She gasped and forced her eyes to open again. The pain that followed was far less intense than the confusion and panic rising inside her.

She panted for breath, whimpering in pain and loss. But what had she lost? Why couldn’t she…

Why couldn’t she remember?

“I see yer awake.”

That low, terrifying voice was the last Sophia heard before she shot up in bed, drenched in sweat and nightmare.

Gasping for a semblance of control, she slowly let out a shaky breath as her hands blindly wiped her damp curls off her forehead. Her bed bounded as her dog jumped over her lap with a whimper, nuzzling its head on her lap in comfort.

“It’s all right, Aabha.” She hardly recognized her own terrified whisper. It was not new to her for it was not the first that she had to wake up from that first memory of this life. Whatever happened before that had abandoned her.

Aabha moved his head off her when she gently pushed him away. Sophia reached for her bedside lamp. She heard the click as it turned on but her sight remained in utter darkness. She could not seem to shake off the habit of turning the bedside lamp on before she would pad her way to the opposite wall across her bed and turn on the ceiling lamp, one she did now.

Faint light seeped through her eternal darkness when the ceiling lamp lit up. She blinked a few times to allow her sight to focus on the shadows. Aabha’s white form was still on the bed. A smaller black form was sitting not far from the bedpost. Brigid, the cat, meowed as she neared.

Slipping back into the warmth of the sheets, Sophia uttered and whispered, “I am well, my friends. Fret not.”

When she managed to go back to sleep, another dream crept in and Sophia smiled.

A man was forcing himself on her and the Sophia in her dream was fighting a whimpered cry as her skirts were pushed up to her hips, her wrists being held high over her head in a tight, powerful grip.

Everything will be all right, she wanted to whisper to the crying Sophia, knowing full well what would happen next.

And like in all other dreams, it did happen. The sound of the door slamming against the wall came and the painful grip of the man was snatched away. His heavy weight left her and the tattered bed.

The next she heard was the dream Sophia asking the stranger, “You own me?”

“Not really, no,” the soothing voice said, “but I did pay for you, yes.”

It will be all right, Sophia whispered in her sleep, soothing the girl in the dream. I swear it will be all right.

“You will leave with me,” the stranger’s voice said.

“B-but what do you intend to do with me, milord?” The raw fear in her voice was undeniable. Go with him. It is all right, she whispered in her sleep again.

“You will work for me.”

“Service you?” came the dream Sophia’s question.

It will be all right, I promise, Sophia murmured in her sleep.

“Yes, but in a far more interesting way.”

And the dream faded away as Sophia snuggled in the safety of her bed, comforted by the memory of that night when her life started to change.

---

Rock’oles was not like any brothels around the Town.

Its very structure would be enough proof of it.

Built many years ago by some lord who thought it was best to carve every chamber of his home into a giant wall of rock, the process had gained great attention. But before it was even completed, the lord lost everything and had no other choice but to sell the unfinished marvel to a young gentleman.

And that gentleman turned Rock’oles not into an ideal home envisioned by its previous owner but into a scandalous yet discreet professional brothel.

Many women from the affluent towns were scandalized, mortified by the business, but their husbands, brothers and distant relatives secretly loved the idea. They clamored to gain membership, fully aware that their reputation would not suffer for that was what Rock’oles offered: extreme caution and discreetness.

Although the men were very much prepared to pay any price for the Rock’oles women, most of them would often go home disappointed, cursing the place in their heads only to return the next week and the weeks after that.

The women, unlike the ordinary brothels, had the power to choose only those they wish to welcome into the chambers—the richest, the best of rakes or whoever could please them in anywat. Whatever business they dealt inside could merely be left in one’s great imagination. The important matter was that each and every lord and gentleman who walked out from any of the chambers were greatly satisfied, causing those who were left in the gaming halls without an invite to be green with envy and wait for a lucky strike.

The women would often grace the gaming halls and entertain their guests, enjoying the shower of attention and flattery thrown at them by eager, rich men. The Rock’oles women could socialize and pretend themselves being courted like their upper class counterparts the men left behind in their own rich, lonely estates.

They flaunted their expensive gowns, gifts from their generous customers, all the while scouring the gaming halls for a man that could take their fancy.

But one woman did not join the flock of beautiful mistresses in the gaming halls. In fact, she had never been seen leaving her chamber.

The men in Rock’oles knew of her presence and most would agree that they had all tried to woo their way into her chamber by talking to her outside her door. Yet most would be requested to leave by the notorious guards. Not all were lucky for there were merely a few who could tell what she looked like or how her service was like. But these men would not talk, causing an even intense mysterious air along the corridors that led to her chamber.

The other women would not dare talk about her for none knew her at all.

And Sophia had no desire to be in the midst of their presence either.

Her services were not for the men in the gaming halls. Hers was entirely of different nature.

The only men who had the privilege to grace her chamber could be counted in one’s pair of hands. Amongst them was Stanley Mast, the manager of Rock’oles.

Sophia remained still as she heard her chamber door open. Stanley was the only one with the key.

“Good morning, Miss Sophia,” Standley’s voice uttered from the doorway.

She heard another pair of footsteps before she heard the door close.

She sniffed and smiled warmly. Once was enough for her to recognize the man walking toward her.

Lord Cigar was what she called him for the man reeked of smoke. And since secrecy was the ultimate rule of her task, she had no other name to associate the man with.

“I have another gift for you today, my dear,” said Lord Cigar.

Sophia held out her hand and gently clasped the thin folded envelop he placed in her palm. She set it aside and blindly smiled. She knew he was sitting across from her in the winged chair he had always occupied.

She knew what was coming next and she almost agonized at the thought of it.

Silence enveloped her dimly lit chamber. She had turned on the bedside lamp but the ceiling lamp was off, rendering her utterly blind.

She heard Lord Cigar shift in his chair as the waiting began. For that was all that they had always been doing: wait. Wait until it was time for him to leave without rousing suspicion from the people outside.

“How is your wife, my lord?” she asked in a soft voice.

“She is doing quite well, Sophia, dear. Thank you for asking.”

“And her health?”

A long pause followed before he answered with a sigh, “Not getting better, I must say, although the doctors are feigning to be hopeful.”

Sophia merely nodded. With a graceful wave of her hand, she pointed to where she believed the liquor cabinet was located. “Please, help yourself with a drink.”

Lord Cigar chuckled. “No, dear, I would rather not. My friends in the gaming halls would surely question why I would rather drink spirit than tumble in bed with the most mysterious woman in Rock’oles.”

A smile curled her lips. “You can always tell them that you can do both at the same time.”

Lord Cigar let out a hearty laugh. “No, my dear, I am fine.”

Sophia hesitated. “Then would you do me the honor of continuing the favor you gave me from last time?”

“Well, yes, of course!”

Sophia leaned forward and pushed the book on the small table toward him.

She heard him pick it up and leafed through the pages. “Where were we, my dear?”

“Page one-hundred-ten.”

“Ah, the prince picking up his sword to rescue the maiden, yes, I remember. I was curious where his battle would lead him.”

She nodded and closed her eyes as Lord Cigar read on.

After an hour of reading and a glass of brandy he eventually made for himself, Lord Cigar stood from his seat and handed Sophia the book. “Until next time, my dear.”

She nodded and stood up to see him out. Without another word, Lord Cigar’s footsteps walked away and Sophia locked the door.

---

Nicholas came alert in his seat, almost causing the woman on his lap to fall on the floor if his reflexes did not save her, when he saw Lord Baldwin reenter the gaming hall.

“My lord!” the woman screeched but he ignored her by planting a loud kiss on her mouth.

“I believe I need to settle a very personal business, my dear,” he whispered in her ear. “I shall return very soon.”

The woman batted her eyes at him. “I shall be in my chamber waiting for you then,” she said without questioning his business . Rock’oles women knew better than to pry.

He grinned at Marivic but he knew he would not have time to be in her chamber today. He stood up and exited the gaming hall, feigning to find the room for the chamber pots.

When he was certain that no one was about along the empty corridor, he made a sharp turn to the right.

His pace slowed down when he saw the closed door at the end of the corridor. He walked toward it and knocked only when he was leaning against the wall beside it.

“I know you are in there, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for the mysterious woman inside the chamber to hear but soft enough to not go any further than the corridor.

Hers was the only door in the corridor. The ones owned by the other women were scattered in the other parts of Rock’oles’ maze.

“You are not going to open the door, are you? I wager you will not even if I am lying bleeding outside your door,” he added with playful accusation.

He let out a dramatic sigh, followed by a clucking of his tongue. “Months, my dear. Almost a year now, in fact. I have been talking to a door or this wall,” he said, slapping the one behind him with his palm, “without an answer.” His lips curved into a wicked smile as he added, “Apart from that time I heard you gasp, of course.”

He pulled his watch from his pocket and checked the time.

“I am expected somewhere, I fear, and I cannot stay longer.” He pulled away from the wall and faced the door. There was a tiny hole just below the level of his eyes and he knew she was looking at him through it. He lifted his eyes to find a bright ceiling lamp hovering above him and he scoffed. She could clearly see him. Unfair, really, for he was here standing under such bright light while he was yet to see even a glimpse of her shadow. At the thought of that, he wondered if she could truly see his face for if she could, how could she bloody not open her door? No woman had ever said no to Nicholas Everard and his looks, and definitely no one had ever dared refuse him after a sample of his bedroom skills.

Apart from Tania, of course, who had now banned him from her chamber after his sister-in-law barged inside Rock’oles in her attempt to fetch Nicholas’ brother and his sister-in-law’s husband, Maxwell Everard. Yet Tania banned him because her pride was hurt, not because she found Nicholas revolting or that she no longer enjoyed their sexual relationship. In fact, Nicholas believed that if he were to woo Tania now, he would be back in her generous bed in a blink of an eye.

Yet this woman, this mysterious lady, had managed to stay silent behind her door for months! She was either blind or had an oddly bad taste in men. The proof of that was Lord Baldwin himself. The man was not merely portly and incapable of more than a single thrust before he collapsed due to exhaustion during a carnal act, but he also reeked of cigar smoke!

It was not long before Nick wondered if the mysterious woman was intensely lacking in senses or if she was truly providing the same services the other Rock’oles women did.

“You are not going to stop me? You will surely miss me, my dear, for I will be gone for quite a long time.” He tilted his head to the right, acting as if he was expecting her to answer. He let out a dramatic sigh of defeat. “Very well, fret not, I shall return.” He gave her door a bow. “Until you open your door.”

He turned and walked away, telling himself that he ought to be more patient.

Whatever was behind that door—whoever was hiding there—was the answer to his brother’s slavery case.

---

Sophia watched the shadow disappear from her line of sight before she pushed away from the door.

Her entertainment for the day was finally over and she sighed with disappointment.

As she settled in her settee, the secret door that connected to a secret corridor opened.

“Marcus,” she uttered in greeting, a warm smile on her lips as she listened to his footsteps.

“Why do you even bother to turn on the bedside lamp when you cannot see,” he uttered with light derision before the ceiling lamp flickered and Sophia blinked to open her eyes to the little light she could see. It helped her distinguish the tall, lean form of the man walking back to seat in Lord Cigar’s winged chair.

“I find no use for more light,” she explained, “and Aabha needs the smaller lamp.” She petted the cat beside her. “And Brigid.”

“I see your cat found its way back,” Marcus Durley commented. “And so did Nicholas Everard,” he added.

Sophia fought the smile that threatened to twitch her lips at the mere mention of the name. “Yes,” she said, curious of one thing. “Why did you allow Nicholas and Ralph Everard to regain their membership in Rock’oles?” When he failed to reply, she added further, “Was it not you who had been waiting for the day that they will do something to cause their banishment from here? The incident their sister-in-law caused months ago ought to have been reason enough to finally be rid of them.”

“I realize I ought to keep my enemies closer, that is all.”

“You seriously consider them your enemies?”

“Those who threaten to keep me from my goals are naught but enemies, my dear,” he replied, his voice light and almost amused.

“And because I realized I do need Nicholas Everard.”

“Not the Town Guard brother Ralph but the rakehell Nicholas Everard?” she asked with curiosity. “Why and how do you need him?”

He drew a breath but did not answer.

She felt him stand and walk to the table where she earlier laid Lord Cigar’s letter. She heard him unfold the paper to read its contents before he said, “It is time you allow Nicholas Everard entry into your chamber, dear Sophia.”

III. Locks and Doors

“I am utterly serious! They surprised me!” Nicholas was saying to his younger brother, Ralph, over the noise of the card games surrounding them at Grey’s. He turned to Samuel Theobald, Ralph’s friend from Adam’s School for Young Gentlemen. “They did take me by surprise.”

Samuel frowned. “And you had no idea at all? You are the lord of the estate for God’s sake!”

Nicholas opened his eyes to answer but Ralph was faster to take the opportunity to make a mockery out of him by saying, “He is often taken by surprise by his servants. Your bloody sister has pretended to be his valet for months, Samuel, and he did not even feel an ounce of suspicion. How do you expect him to know what happens between his own butler and the chambermaid?” Ralph sneered at Nicholas. “You make a habit of knowing things upon the sound of wedding bells, brother.”

Nicholas gritted his teeth at the reminder of how Samuel’s sister, Maxine Theobald, who was now his brother Maxwell’s wife, had fooled him for months on end, pretending to be a man—and his own valet! “I did see she was an odd sort to be a valet,” he tried in grave and weak attempt to defend himself.

Ralph and Samuel merely scoffed as they reached for their drinks.

“And how did you respond to them?” Ralph asked.

“Who?”

“Your bloody butler and the chambermaid!”

“Ah, yes,” he uttered with a shrug. “Of course I allowed the marriage. Oscar is a very tight man, too tight for his own good. And Molly seems to be a good influence. He smiled at me for the first time a fortnight ago, of course I said yes!”

“Maxine did share her excitement about the butler and the chambermaid months before,” said Samuel. “She is friends with both, I remember.”

“Of course,” Nicholas said, “for your sister has the propensity to be at the wrong places in most cases—first in my own household pretending to be a valet and then at Rock’oles to grab her husband.”

Samuel narrowed his eyes. “Maxwell was in Rock’oles?”

“To help with an important matter, no women,” Nicholas quickly supplied. Maxwell had suffered enough with Samuel and his older brother when Maxwell went off to Tiny Town and married their sister. There was no need to inflict more damage on the poor man.

Samuel nodded but his eyes still held a glint of suspicion. As a writer for the Town Herald, the man’s mind could very well be compared to the gossip section—complicated and utterly mysterious.

“By the by, Samuel,” Ralph said, changing the topic for he was the only man in the table who would not wish for Samuel to be curious about the help Nicholas was talking about, “Your recent article about the Town Leaders caused quite an uproar.”

“Yes,” Nicholas agreed, “Ever since that marvelous article you wrote about Maxine, you have gotten bolder with your writing.”

“You ought to be careful, my friend,” Ralph said before Samuel could open his mouth in protest. “You cannot ken what a statesman might be inclined to do if you ruin their reputation, even if it was about a servant beating. A law protecting servants is yet to be passed and your loud rhetoric on the Herald might cause more trouble. Your pen can only protect you from afar.”

Samuel sighed and shook his head. “And who do you expect to speak for the people? Who do you suspect ought to tell them of the unwanted events these Leaders are causing? And it is not just the Leaders I was attacking but the many other gentries who think themselves too high that they can beat their servants to death over a spilled fifty-year-old brandy! Who would tell the people of such atrocious acts? They all purchase the Herald for the gossip—gossip! One must feel great alarm when the people start to care less for politics and human error!”

“I could not agree more,” Nicholas said with a nod. “Our mother for one merely scans the other pages under a blink of an eye but spends an entire morning reading the gossip section.” He followed his statement with a laugh.

But Ralph had a serious look on his face as he continued to stare at his friend. “You are drawing a lot of attention on yourself by publishing these articles, Samuel. It was different before when you used a pen name. But now you are using your actual one and people are ambivalent.”

Samuel, desperate to avoid a lecture from a Town Guard, jumped to his feet and said, “I see Wynne Hastings, gentlemen. Perhaps I can ask the fool to join us before he is made the laughingstock by everyone.”

Both Nicholas and Ralph turned their head to see a tall, slim and awkward man sitting across the table with a drunken lord. “Why the bloody hell is he here?” Ralph asked.

“Assignment,” said Samuel before he left to get his friend.

Nicholas tore his eyes away when Samuel was pulled down a chair by the drunken lord before he could even greet his friend. “They truly are an odd pair, those two,” Nicholas said with a shake of his head. “Samuel appears better alone with us, but with that Hastings in tow you can spot no difference. The smell of books and ink erupt from his pores whenever he is seen with that man.”

But Ralph was no longer interested with Samuel or Hastings. He was now giving Nicholas a level look.

Being four years older than Ralph with Ralph being nine-and-twenty and he three-and-thirty, he ought to scowl at his brother for treating him as if they were of the same age. But that was not the case between them for Ralph was also a friend as much as he was a brother.

“If you are about to ask about the door,” he wryly stated under his breath for Ralph to only hear, “the answer is a resounding NO . She has not opened it yet.”

His brother let out a breath of frustration. “I am starting to truly question your skill as a rakehell, Nick.”

“I agree,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Baldwin, that fat and smelly cad, spent an hour or more inside her chamber the other day. Can you believe it? Baldwin!” He pointed with his finger at his brother, “And dare not compare me to that man.”

Ralph shook his head. “Why would I when we both know he comes there for other reasons.”

Nicholas turned serious. He crossed his leg over the other and rested his chin over his knuckles. “If I could only gain access into her chamber, our theories would eventually have its conclusion.”

“Are you certain the one behind the door is a woman? For all we could know, it is—”

“I heard her once,” he interjected strongly.

“Gasp—you heard her gasp,” Ralph pointed out with derision. “Have you heard my footman gasp? He did yesterday when Emma burst into my study without warning and I do assure you, Nick, I almost thought he was a woman. I had to have him prove he was not by stripping his clothes!”

“Why the bloody hell would you ask your footman to strip in front of you!”

“Why? Well, after you were tricked by our sister-in-law into thinking she was a man, I just had to!”

Nicholas scowled and threatened to kick Ralph who swiveled in his chair to escape his attack. Samuel and Hastings managed to escape the drunken lord’s table and were now on their way toward them. Nicholas leaned over to smack Ralph’s head.

“A bit more patience, brother,” he murmured under his breath, drawing back to their previous subject.

“I am starting to lose hope with Rock’oles, Nick. I am inclined to look elsewhere for proof if we cannot dig further than this. The numbers of missing women and children from the farthest parts of the Town are growing by the week and we cannot risk missing them forever.”

Samuel and his odd friend Hastings were nearing. Nicholas prepared his jolly smile as he said under his breath, “No one has displayed their suspicion of me in Rock’oles as of yet, Ralph, so leave it to a rake what you bloody Town Guards cannot do.”

---

Sophia could not stay still but she ought to compose herself. For seven years she had been naught but grateful for her spacious chamber in Rock’oles. She had not found it too small, nor was it too confining despite the fact that she had never ventured father than the secret corridors.

Until now.

Brigid jumped away from her when she almost stepped on the cat as she paced around the room restlessly. “Sorry,” she murmured. She may be perfectly oriented with her chamber, but she had little control of where her pets might settle.

The cat meowed and Sophia stopped pacing.

“Yes, of course, I shall stop, Brigid,” she talked to the animal. “I am merely nervous. I have never been this anxious.”

It was true. Of all the men she had encountered, including Marcus, she had never felt intimidated. She knew their goals and she knew her role.

But this was entirely different. This was the first she would have to allow an innocent man to enter her chamber. Because that would definitely be how Nicholas Everard would be—innocent and ignorant of Marcus’ plans.

She had heard Marcus speak of many evil things he did and planned to do, yet she knew why he was doing them. The men who entered her chamber all had their own selfish reasons for being involved in the trade and she never truly felt guilty except when Marcus spoke of the women and children his clients took and sold.

Sophia knew little of the details for they were all written in the letters she received and handed to others or Marcus. She could not read them unless Marcus would choose to do so aloud.

She moistened her lips and closed her eyes. This would be the first that she would have to deal with an innocent man and actually use him to her advantage.

Having lived the life she had after that night she woke up with no memory or sight, having been through what her uncle put her through, Sophia was no saint. She knew that to survive she ought to have a hard heart. Conscience was not part of her daily life, yet it was always there, quietly sitting in one corner of her being.

She was not hoping for romance where Nicholas Everard was concerned. She had long given up on romance for she believed she was not one of the many who were lucky to experience it. Her life so far had been naught but evidence of what this lifetime could merely offer to someone like her. The only luck bestowed upon her was Marcus Durley himself. None came after.

She jumped to her feet when she heard the knock outside her door and she turned to run toward it. She blindly felt for the hole and leaned forward to look through it.

The light outside her door was deliberately bright for her benefit. She sighed with disappointment when she failed to see Nicholas Everard’s shadow. He was once more leaning against the wall beside her door.

“You know, my dear,” his voice said and she smiled to hear it again after three days. “On my way here, I was wondering why I was never dragged away from your door.” Sophia bit her lips to suppress a chuckle. “I have seen countless men being dragged by the notorious guards of this damned place and I know you women have those bells you pull if you wish for the guards. I wonder why you never pulled one on me.”

Sophia wondered why as well. Perhaps she ought to have done that a long time ago when he had found her door. Mayhap if she did she would not be forced to let him in and be part of all this. Yet she never did because Nicholas Everard was a good company, although their conversations were filled by his monologues that ranged from funny to horrific while she kept her silence, enjoying just his mere presence.

“You have access to the guards yet I am yet to find myself facing one outside your door,” he said and he emerged in her line of sight once again. The longing to see beyond the shadows of his face came rushing back to her. Oh, how she wished she could see him. “Why, my dear? Why have you not pulled the bell yet?”

She could now, she thought in passing as she narrowed her eyes to see more of his face. But pulling that bell would mean not hearing his voice again. Pulling it would mean not having the chance of running her hand over his face to sculpt it in her mind.

“Am I wrong to think that it is a sign I do have a chance of stepping into your chamber?” he asked in his playful tone, the one she liked the most. “Ah, mind me not,” he said, dismissing his own narrative. She saw him tilt his head to the right. “Did you miss me? Have you been waiting for me?”

Yes, Sophia replied in her head.

“I know I said I would be gone for a long time, but that I cannot do, see?” He rapped on her door and added, “I have grown rather fond of this very beautiful door and the wall it is attached to. We have grown intimate in the months I have been visiting. The wall, you see, is a very reliable one. It has not once complained of my weight. And this door, my dear, is quite strong-willed for it had withstood many raps and kicks.”

Sophia stifled a laugh.

“Do you wish to know what I think of the lock though?” he asked.

Sophia pushed away from the door and squared her shoulders. He had said enough, she thought, as she reached out to turn the lock from the inside.

“Now, the lock, my dear, is completely a different story,” he was saying. “It is irritatingly insulting my—” he stopped when he heard the lock turn. Sophia reached out to turn off the ceiling lamp and moved away from the door to turn off the smaller lamp by her bed. From there she expertly found her way back to her settee where she waited.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she regained composure. It must be done. There was no other way she could delay it.

She heard the door open and Nicholas’ more distinct voice said, “I was not aware that insulting the lock will make it yield.”

Sophia closed her eyes. There was no difference for she shut out darkness to welcome another one, but it helped her relax.

The door closed and she knew that Nicholas Everard was in utter darkness as she was.

“Bloody hell,” she heard him mutter in disbelief. “This is real, is it? I am actually bloody inside!”

Sophia drew in a breath. She slowly let it out as silently as she could.

Nicholas Everard was finally inside her chamber.

IV. Rules

Nicholas was in utter disbelief.

And he was also in utter darkness.

For a slight second he wondered if he had perhaps been talking to no one, that mayhap there was nothing in this chamber.

He started to move to reopen the door and let the light from the corridor guide him to find the lamp in the chamber but a soft, calm voice spoke and he froze.

“Rule number one, my lord,” it said, “I forbid you to see me.”

Nicholas frowned. Bloody hell? He slowly turned around in an attempt to find the source of the voice.

“Rule number two, I say when you stop your visits.”

He moistened his lips. So there was a woman behind the door after all. And she had bloody rules.

When she spoke no further, he cocked a brow in the darkness and took a step forward. “Rule number three?”

He nearly jumped in surprise when her voice spoke very close to him. “None.”

She was near, he could feel it. She was standing right in front of him.

He swallowed the undeniable anxiety he felt. He was not used to stark darkness, but apparently this mysterious woman preferred it. “Simply two rules?” he asked, trying to cover his feelings with a charming, teasing voice.

He was finally inside the chamber of the woman very few men had the privilege to meet. He would not dare spoil this first visit. Of course, he ought to be charming!

“Two you must follow, yes,” she said and Nicholas heard another sound. A rustle of clothes. His eyes widened. She was stripping her clothes! “Shall we proceed?”

If his past lovers were there as witness, they would have gawked in disbelief when he stepped away in panic for Nicholas Everard never stepped away from a willing, stripping maiden who had such soft, gentle voice. But this was different. He could not see her and she was taking him by surprise with each passing moment.

Nicholas felt the touch of fabric brush his legs as it fell on the floor and he swallowed hard.

Bloody hell. What if she was not who he imagined to be like? How could be respectfully step away and ask to be dismissed?

When she stepped closer until they were almost touching from chest to feet, he swallowed even more. What in tarnation had he entered?

“You have been such a talkative one while outside my door, my lord,” she whispered under his chin, her breath brushing against his exposed throat. “Has the darkness rendered your speechless?”

Her voice and the way she said those words… it awakened a different longing inside him, one he rarely felt. If any of the women outside had spoken the same words he would have taken it as seduction. But this woman said it in such playful a manner that he had the sudden desire to see her face and find the glimmer of play in her eyes.

He was almost afraid to touch her. Her voice might be heavenly but her body might prove otherwise. Considering the small number of men who were known to frequent her chamber, Nicholas had reason to doubt.

Was that why she would not want for him to see her?

Her hand deliberately, and with a slight moment of hesitation, planted itself over his chest and Nicholas’ heart began to race inside his chest.

Dainty fingers, soft palms. Swallowing hard, Nicholas deliberately forced out his anticipation. There was no turning back now.

He bowed his head to where he thought her face was and he whispered, “I am merely surprised you opened the door, sweetheart.”

The warmth of her was touching his face. She was too near.

He tested his luck and dipped his head lower, finding her jaw. Soft skin. Bloody hell. He did not care what she looked like after all.

Her jaw clenched against the light touch of his lips and Nicholas smiled, his earlier inhibitions long gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of triumph.

He was finally here! Finally behind the other side of that bloody door!

And she was offering herself to him without requiring small talks or seduction. Perhaps the months he spent outside the door were enough for her to be enticed.

With victory reigning over him and the fantasy of the mystery woman seemingly very close to reality, desire washed over him and he thought he ought not to waste time. She may be inclined to change her mind and pull that bell after all and he would lose his chance of having a taste of her and the secrets she kept.

Yet Ralph and his mission were momentarily forgotten as Nicholas smelled her scent. There was hint of tea and her unique scent that overwhelmed his senses, making him think of the smell of grass seeping through his chamber in Whiston after a strong downpour of rain through the giant hole over his plantation.

Her hand went over his shoulder as he lightly nuzzled her jaw and trailed his lips to find her lips. Yet before he could claim it she turned away and offered her neck. He frowned. “No rules against kissing?” he asked.

“None,” she gently replied, “but I would appreciate if you do not force it.”

Finally his hands moved and settled on her hips. She was bloody naked! Naked! His groin tightened against his breeches as he stepped forward, his hands traveling up to her waist to clasp her against him. Her skin felt surreal. She did not feel as scrawny as the other Rock’oles women. She had the right curves and softness that would render a man immobile with lust.

Bloody hell he wanted to see her. He wanted to see the marks he would make on every inch of her.

She stepped closer. Nicholas groaned, barely hanging on to control. “Bloody hell, woman,” he rasped against her neck, kissing it, tasting her skin with the tip of his tongue.

He felt her swallow as his hands travelled to the side of her breasts before he cupped them fully in his hands. His breathing hitched as he kneaded their fullness, arousing them with his expert hands.

And he stopped.

And he stepped away.

His past lovers would definitely faint now in utter disbelief.

He felt her confusion and he seriously felt his body screaming at him in condemnation as evidenced by his straining erection, but he persisted with stubbornness. Yes, he was being stubborn because this was not how he wanted this to be played out.

He had spent months planning on how to woo her, how to take her to bed, and now he had to find that he did not have to do anything at all but open his breeches and bury himself into her?

She just simply opened the door and willingly stripped in front of him?

He was no fool not to think that she was eager to have it over with once and for all. He was no fool not to believe that she was forcing herself to do this.

“Please understand, my dear,” he said when he finally found his voice, “that I do intend to turn you into a lover, not a toy I could simply use to satisfy myself for there is no satisfaction there.”

“But—”

He stepped to the side and made a mistake by bumping against a hard wood. Was that a table? He cursed under his breath as he rubbed his thigh. It took him a few more seconds before he recovered and straightened to full height, now slowly navigating around the room with his hands outstretched, picturing each detail he could feel in his mind. “For now, we do not have to make love.”

“We do not have to?” were her surprised words.

“I wish to talk.”

“But—”

“That is not part of your rule, is it?”

“No, but—”

“I like your voice, but I hate to hear you say but ,” he added, now having found her large bed. “I have dreamed of hearing your voice, you know?”

“You did?”

“Yes—what the bloody hell!” he yelled when he heard a growl.

“Aabha,” the woman said in a stern voice.

Nicholas whirled around. “You have a dog!” The dog walked past him and he jumped.

“Yes. And a cat.”

He blindly looked around. “Are you living in a menagerie?”

Her gentle chuckle made him freeze. Hell, he would work harder to hear her laughter.

When amusement died down, Nicholas’ smile faded into a small one. “Your name. What is your name?”

“Sophia.”

“Beautiful name.”

“Thank you.”

“I would love to have a face to the name,” he said and quickly added, “someday? Perhaps someday you would break your own rule and allow me to glimpse your face?”

He could hear her dressing herself and he smiled. Was she relieved? Pleased? Disappointed? For it was apparent that she expected to be bedded today. He silently congratulated himself for such marvelous self-control.

“You may call me Nick,” he offered, leaning against the bedpost, his arms crossed over his chest as he pretended to be seeing her. But he was surprised when her voice spoke from the far side of the room behind him.

“Is that what they call you? Your lovers?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“And Tania?”

He frowned with a knowing smile. “You have heard of me from Tania?”

“No, we have never met.”

“Then—”

“I have many ways to know things, my lord.”

“You are making me curious with every word, Sophie.”

“It is Sophia.”

Nicholas shook his head. “I prefer to call you Sophie. You don’t like it?”

“If you like it, I cannot say no.”

“Sophie it is then.”

She did not reply. Instead she said, “I have a question. Do you find me lacking?”

Nicholas frowned. “What?”

“You don’t want to bed me. Do you find me lacking?”

“Damn, woman!” he uttered, “I barely had a taste of you, barely touched you and haven’t seen you but my bloody crotch is suffering as we speak!” He let out a pathetic laugh. “I would want nothing but to bury myself inside you but as I have said, my dear, I plan to make you my lover.”

“If you take me now, I will be.”

“No, not really.”

“I opened my door for you. I am ready.” There was a hint of firmness and arrogance in her voice now and he chuckled.

Discovering this woman would definitely be a very enjoyable one.

“Perhaps next time,” he said, walking blindly toward the door. “I was not expecting to be welcomed in your chamber today and I had already made other plans. I do not wish to spend a short time with you in bed, Sophie, for if I take you to bed I will need an entire day.”

He heard her gasp and he laughed as he pulled the door open.

“Remember rule number one, my lord,” she warned when the light streamed inside the chamber.

Nicholas was tempted to look back but he would dare not risk his luck. He nodded and stepped into the doorway. “I shall see you again soon, Sophie.”

“Be at the gaming hall two days from now. Someone will escort you here. You need not spend any more time building relationships with the wall and the door.”

Nicholas chuckled as he closed the door behind him. “Such a pity then. We were getting chummy, your door, wall and I. See you then, Sophie.”

---

Sophia was drinking tea while petting Brigid when the secret door opened and Marcus’ light footsteps entered the room.

“How was your meeting with Nicholas Everard?” he asked, settling across from her. Even with the ceiling lamp turned off, she could clearly picture his shadow with his leg crossed over the other in a calm manner.

“Did he force himself on you?” he asked.

“No, he did not. He was quite the gentleman,” she said.

“Did you make him talk?”

She smiled. “He always talks.”

“Anything of import?”

“None at the moment.” She heard his sigh. “Patience, Marcus. We shall soon know what they know.”

“But do be sure to be careful. Would you like me to post a guard in the secret corridor?”

“No,” was her instant reply. “I can handle Nicholas Everard.”

“It might come with a price.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“He might want something more.”

She shook her head. “No, he will not. The moment he sees me he will not want for more.”

“You think so low of yourself, my dear.”

“No.” She let Brigid jump from her lap to join Aabha somewhere in the room. “I simply think low of men like Nicholas Everard.”

Marcus Durley chuckled. “The Everards have a reputation for taking no regard to societal norms. Have you not heard?”

“Yes, of course. Their brother married his sisters’ governess despite her being accused as a witch. Another eloped to Tiny Town when the maiden was engaged to another. Another married a bastard. A sister caused quite a scandal when she engaged into a love affair with the Head of the Men of Courts. And ah, yes, I forgot about the other sister, the one who vulgarly chased one of Wickhurst’s most elusive rakes.”

“And you believe Nicholas Everard will not do something akin to them?”

“No, he shall not.”

“You have many great qualities men will cherish and fall in love with, Sophia, dear.”

She stayed silent for she was not quite aware of such qualities.

“And you shall use them to our advantage, yes?”

Sophia blinked against the darkness. “Yes, of course.”

Marcus sighed. “I will not know what to do without you.”

“So do I, Marcus. You are my savior and I shall repay your kindness in any way I can.”

He stood and walked toward her. He cupped her cheek and planted a kiss on the top of her curly head.

“Should anything bother you, you only have to call for me.”

“I know, Marcus.”

---

If there was anyone Nicholas hated the most whenever he saw his sister-in-law walk with a limp, it was Alan Osegod.

But he knew well not to show his contempt for the Head of the Town Leaders in front of his brother. Maxwell had had a hard time after Maxine’s accident and he sure would not wish to remind him of the man responsible for it.

Osegod was of the past. They, the Everards, had finally expressed their lack of desire to engage in business with the man after the man showed just how far he would go to control them and many other gentries all over the Town.

“You know,” he started with a grin as his sister-in-law settled beside Maxwell in their salon in Kenward, “I have the most marvelous day.”

Maxine’s brows shot high. “Truly? How so?”

“For one, I am having tea with my dear neighbor who happens to be my brother, and his wife who happens to be my old valet—” he stopped when Maxwell shot him a look of warning, “And I happen to be invited just today inside the most wanted chambers in Rock’oles.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes and sighed while his wife’s eyes widened with awe.

While Maxine was disguised as his valet, he had shared everything he knew about Rock’oles, including the details about the mysterious woman and her chamber.

“You do not believe me?” he asked Maxine. “After being banished from Rock’oles—thanks to you—and being readmitted—thanks to you again—she finally gave in!”

Maxine scoffed and shared a look with her husband.

“What?” he wryly asked them.

“Max has been hopeful there will be no woman behind that door,” Maxine admitted with a chuckle. “But I am glad that your very important mission has finally yielded fruit,” she added with sarcasm.

“Mock me all you may, Max ,” he uttered, “but you have no idea why I have been wooing her outside her door all these months.”

“Truly?” Maxwell finally spoke. “Apart from a short tumble in bed, you have other important matters in mind?”

“Of course! You know of Ralph’s mission, yes?”

Maxwell stiffened, his always cynical face turning darker. “The slavery case.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You must not be involved in it any longer, Nick,” Maxwell warned. “Osegod is—”

“But I am not. I am merely a passive spy for our dear incompetent Town Guard of a brother. No woman in Rock’oles would dare invite him into their chambers because of his profession. What else could he do but ask for my help?”

Maxine cleared her throat, planting her palm over her husband’s lap in an attempt to calm him down. “And how was it? Did you find any secrets ?”

“No,” he curtly replied. “In fact, I was not able to find anything.”

“No surprise,” Maxwell scoffed.

“Because the chamber was completely dark! The lights were off!”

Husband and wife frowned at him, both of whom with long hair only that Maxine’s was longer. They could be bloody twins if not for Maxine’s light grey eyes and Maxwell’s emerald green ones.

“She has two rules, see?” he said with frustration. “One, I cannot see her. Two, she says when I stop my visits.”

“Why would she not wish for you to see her?” Maxine asked with wonder.

He shrugged. Then slowly a smile crept up his face. “But now that I think of it, she did not mention a rule about cheating.”

Maxwell sighed and stood up. “There go his foolish thoughts.”

Maxine laughed as her husband found his way to the liquor cabinet. “Nick,” she said, “you cannot be thinking of cheating her, are you? She might use the second rule against you and declare that you stop your visits!”

“Ah, but my dear,” he said with a wicked grin, “who said something about a deliberate cheating? I was thinking of deliberately causing an accident, that is all.” He smiled with pride as his sister-in-law merely shook her head in disbelief.

But he was resolved to the idea. He intended to see her face.

Even just a glimpse.

V. A Deliberate Accident

Mr. Gruff was named for the obvious reason that he spoke gruffly most of the time. His statements were most often crustily delivered and he was Sophia’s least favorite.

He paced around Sophia’s dimly lit room and cursed when he stumbled over Aabha who was peacefully sleeping at the foot of the bed.

Sophia did not flinch at his expletives for she had heard far worse in her many years in the brothel. Her uncle was amongst the many men who introduced the language to her from the moment she woke up that fateful night twenty years past.

Marcus left a note for Mr. Gruff that morning and it was apparent that he did not like what was written there.

“Three women? How am I expected to supply three! Women are getting scarce!”

Sophia sighed. She wished she had turned on the ceiling lamp so she could see the damage Mr. Gruff was doing to her furniture. She did not like stumbling over misplaced things.

“Sir,” she said, breaking her silence, “I would appreciate if you cease talking about the contents of the letter. I have no wish to hear every detail of your transactions. Lord Durley would also appreciate if you avoid slips.”

“And who would you repeat my words to?” he snapped at her. “Your lovers? You do not have one.” The contempt in his voice was outward but Sophia let it pass. It was tedious to defend herself to the likes of Mr. Gruff.

Like Lord Cigar, he was here for the money. But unlike the former, Mr. Gruff had no other reason.

“Ah, but you are amongst those who brag of your visits in my chamber, are you not?” she taunted. “Whatever reason you may have for coming here, you still go around Town, enjoying the envy of those who are spared of my presence.”

“You speak to me as though we are equals, Sophia, dear. You very know you are far beneath my race.”

“Yet you speak of me to the men outside as though I am a goddess who acclaims your virile.” Her lips curved at his lack for words. “You take advantage of my mysterious nature, neglecting of my true one in presence of your equals , letting slide the important details about me that would have made them judge not just me, but you as well.”

He grumbled under his breath. Sophia heard him crumple the letter in his hand. “I do sure hope you can clearly see, dear Sophia. Because once you stare at yourself in a viewing glass and see more than mere shadows, you shall kneel at my feet in gratitude for giving you a false image amongst my colleagues.”

Sophia remained calm. She had heard him say the same words before, most often in times when he could not form a better statement.

“Tell Durley his request shall be done in a fortnight, no less.” Her jaw tightened when his weight made her bed screech. She hated that he’d spoil her most favorite part in the chamber. “And wake me up when it is time to leave.”

She forced herself a smile although she doubted he saw it. “Of course.”

---

She opened her eyes and saw nothing. And the pain attacked. She moaned beneath her panting breath, desperate for relief.

The panic was winning, numbing the pain.

Why couldn’t she see? What was happening to her? Was she dying? Why couldn’t she remember?

“I see yer awake.”

Sophia opened her eyes wide and groaned in frustration when she felt for her damp forehead. Why could she not simply dream of that night without physically suffering?

When would the time come that she would not have to cower at the sound of his voice?

With a groan, she pushed away from the mattress. Aabha moved beside her and she hushed him back to sleep. Brigid purred lazily from a corner.

Sophia reached for the glass of water and drank.

It shall take a few more minutes to calm her pouncing heart.

As she waited for sleep to return, she wondered if her uncle would ever cease to live in her sleep.

---

Nicholas was in his apartment in Wickhurst, tying his cravat with great concentration when his sister, Emma, burst into his chamber.

He was about to scowl for the intrusion when he realized his sister was with Fiona and Faye, the two girls their sister Margaret and her husband adopted as their own four years ago. Suddenly his face came alight with a smile. “To whom do I owe the honor of having such fine ladies grace my chamber?”

The two girls giggled. Fiona, ten, curtsied. Faye, now at what they assumed to be around twelve years of age, did the same. Both their shoulders shook with mirth. “We were asked by Emma to accompany her,” said Faye.

Without closer inspection, both girls looked like true sisters. Both had dark hair and blue eyes. But that was the extent of it.

Fiona was looking more like a Carrington in each passing day. Her black hair which she inherited from her father, a Trilby, was the only dissimilarity. Although the Trilbys were not chummy with the Everards due to their role in rescuing Fiona from her father, they dared not further demand for her return for Fiona was a disgrace to them as much as her mother was.

As to Faye, her origin was unknown. She stumbled into the Everard estate and met Margaret. But she was one of the keys to helping Margaret and her husband Cole in putting to prison the men responsible for the illegal slave trade around the Town. She escaped slavery at such a young age. Margaret did not wish to put the child through the entire investigation, but they all knew that when the moment came that the men were caught including the Head of the Town Leaders, Osegod, Faye would have to be asked to participate. She was their only living witness who could point at the men who took her from her village.

Nicholas gave up on his cravat and threw it to the side with a frustrated curse under his breath.

“You have not yet found a valet?” Emma asked, walking over to the cravat to pick it up and attempted to tie it around his neck.

“No. And I believe it shall be a long time before I can trust myself with one,” he murmured, looking down at his sister. He scowled. “Where the bloody hell did you learn to tie a cravat?”

Emma spared him a look with her emerald green eyes. “Books, brother. I have a ton of time to learn many things.”

He sneered. “Preparing for marital duties?”

His sister scoffed and pulled the cravat tightly to choke him. He jumped away and loosened the knot. “I learn things not for others but for myself, you oaf.” She turned to Faye and Fiona and said, “Girls, would you be so kind to ask Fanny to bring biscuits and sweet tea to the parlor?”

Nicholas groaned. “I assumed you are not staying,” he said when the two girls disappeared.

Emma arched a brow. “You have somewhere of import to go, Nick? A lover?”

“Mayhap, yes,” he said. There were only two people amongst his siblings he could not lie to: Maxwell and Emma.

“Is this the same woman in Rock’oles?”

His eyes widened. “And where did you learn of Rock’oles?”

Emma chuckled. “Don’t think your sister is a fool, Nick. Of course, I learned from Ysa who learned it from Maxine.”

“I ought to have word with that former valet of mine,” he grumbled.

Emma laughed in mirth. “Oh, I still find it famous! Maxine fooling you for months by pretending to be a man!”

His eyes flickered with annoyance. He rather missed the days when his younger sisters were causing ruckus, busy with their matchmaking. The older they got, the more they knew of things Nicholas would rather they be ignorant of. “What urged you to come here? You never leave the Everard estate if you can help it.”

Stepping back to admire her work around his throat, Emma shrugged. “I wanted to take the girls shopping while Margaret and Cole are with the doctor.”

He frowned. “Doctor? Why? What is the matter?”

“Oh, I suspect it is another babe,” she said with a shrug. “And mother is almost certain of it, which is why I am here.”

“Straight to the point, Emma.”

“You are expected to be at the family dinner this evening.”

“And you could not have simply just sent a note?”

Emma chuckled. “I live to cause small havocs in the daily lives of my dear brothers, Nick,” she said with a wink as she turned to leave the chamber. “And I am rather fond of Fanny’s biscuits!”

“She is the worst cook!” he uttered as he turned to face the viewing glass to admire his features. He grinned at himself.

Tonight shall be the night for Sophia to see him in all his splendor. With one last wink at his reflection, he turned to join his sister and nieces at the parlor.

---

Nicholas looked away when Tania and Veronica, the two women who had once worshiped him in Rock’oles, threw him a murderous look simply by being in the same room as them.

For a very short moment he blamed Maxine for causing such a scene the last she was here. But was it not his fault that his sister-in-law barged in here wearing breeches and shirt to fetch her husband? Or should he blame his sister, Ysabella, for helping Maxine?

Ah, he missed Tania. She was truly a price.

But his short frustration was short-lived as Stanley Mast, the lanky and tall manager of Rock’oles, came to him and said, “If you would come with me, my lord?”

All men in the gaming room snapped their heads to gawk at him in disbelief. He swerved his mocking face at them all.

Mast would not usually show himself in the gaming room unless he was escorting a lord to the mysterious chamber.

He heard Veronica and Tania scoff in disbelief and briefly heard a gentleman say, “Bloody lucky bastard.”

“Jolly walking with you, Mast,” he said to the manager who merely gave him a curt nod. The man briskly led the way toward Sophia’s chamber. With a key, he opened the door and the light from the corridor burst into the room.

Nicholas was disappointed to see that the only thing he saw was the giant bed in the center. Well, at the very least he saw the bed. And it was like every other bloody bed.

“Good day, my lord,” Mast said as Nicholas walked past him. Without another word, the manager reached for the door and pulled it close, leaving Nicholas in darkness again.

His mind raced to how he could cause a deliberate accident, one that would help him get a glimpse of the woman residing in such a dark room. He wanted to see what she was hiding.

“Are you hungry, my lord?” Sophia’s voice asked from his left.

He turned. “For something else, yes,” he said in a teasing tone.

She chuckled and he heard the rustle of her dress as she walked toward him. Had she been living in this darkness for so long that she could easily navigate around it?

He felt a hand clasp his. Soft, dainty hands pulled him forward.

For some odd reason he started to get nervous. Why? Why the bloody hell did he feel anxious? Surely it was not because of this woman!

“I had the cook prepare a sumptuous meal for you,” she softly said, guiding him into a chair. He felt something move against his right leg and he lifted it high in alarm. Sophia chuckled. “That is Aabha, my lord. Need not be afraid.”

“I am not,” he snapped. “Bloody hell, woman, you keep animals in this room!”

“They keep me company when I am alone.”

He heard a clutter before him.

“You expect me to eat in darkness?”

“Believe me when I say that it does stimulate your sense of taste,” she promised, placing a fork in his hand.

Slowly, Nicholas blindly reached for the plate. With his other hand, he felt for its contents.

“You simply have to use the fork to—”

“I know,” he snapped again, losing patience. He did not like this game she was playing. But ate he did and she was proven to be correct for the meal was indeed delicious and when he got acquainted with the darkness, it did help him to focus on the taste and its smell.

“Is there any particular reason why you do not wish for me to see you? Try to be honest with me, Sophie, for I do appreciate honesty,” he said a moment later as he sipped his wine.

Her hand went to his holding his drink. She took it from his hand and set it aside on the table before she settled herself on his lap.

His body responded instantly, his breath snatched out of his lungs. She was not heavy yet she was not light as well. She was perfect in his mind.

Her smell overwhelmed his senses again and he did not realize his hands moved on their own volition to caress her upper arms, her shoulders and her long, curly hair.

“Yes, of course, I do have reasons,” she whispered, her breath brushing his lips.

Nicholas swallowed.

He did promise himself that he would seduce her today. Yet he found himself being seduced in every possible way he had never thought.

A woman’s beauty had always been enough to empower his lust, but this woman was using his other senses to do it. She did not need the light to make Nicholas scramble for control for the very smell, feel and sound of her was enough to make him burn.

Just as when he thought she would plant her lips against his, she deliberately let it lightly trace the side of his lips, along his jaw and up over the slight curve of his cheekbone. He closed his eyes, asking himself if he ought to give in now. Because there was no way he would be doing the seduction at this time.

In response, his body jerked forward and his arms wound around her. He felt her stiffen before she softened against him. Although he wondered about her reaction, his body could no longer wait. He needed to be inside her. He needed to taste every inch of her. Now. Not later.

Now.

With ease, Nicholas lifted her with him from the chair, sucking on her throat, wishing he was delving his tongue inside her mouth instead. But she did not wish to be kissed. And he respected that.

Perhaps he would work on that in the days to come. But not now. Now he simply had to reach the bed.

Carrying her through the darkness of the room, Nicholas clasped his hands under her thigh. Her breathing was raspy as he trailed wet kissed down her throat and over her gown to tease her breast.

“Bloody hell!” he cried out when he bumped against a table.

“Right,” she huskily instructed in his ear. Nicholas turned to the right and walked on, hoping the bed would soon make an appearance.

But in the depths of his lust-filled energy, a sane thought was trying to tell him something. And he listened to it.

Yes, of course. He ought not to forget about his plan.

He forced himself to slow down and let Sophia slip down his length until her feet touched the floor.

“My lord,” she whispered, her breathing heavy, “I do honestly think that we must continue.”

Nicholas grinned against his temple. God, he wanted to kiss her mouth. “Slow, darling,” he whispered. “I want to go slow.”

He heard the dog whimper beside them, as though trying to warn Sophia that the man holding her was planning to cause an accident, but Sophia nudged it aside with her leg, saying, “Shush, Aabha.”

Nicholas realized that his leg was touching the side of the bed mattress. He turned to the side and found the bedside table. He whirled Sophia around with him until his hips hitched on the edge of the wooden furniture while his hands pulled at the light skirt of her dress.

He heard her surprise gasp when he whirled them both around again until she was leaning against the table, his hands now underneath her dress, his mouth searching for the peak of her breast through the fabric.

She let out a shaky breath as Nicholas continued his slow teasing. Her legs opened to give him room and he willing stepped between them and groaned.

He felt her hands reach down to unfasten his breeches but he stopped her. “Shh, darling, not yet,” he whispered against her throat, lightly biting her skin. His hands found the back of her dress and he started to work on the buttons.

He felt her stiffen once again but she quickly recovered.

What the bloody hell was wrong with this woman?

What was she hiding? Why was she forcing herself to do this?

His lips wandered back on her jaw, nipping and kissing as it journeyed higher up to her cheeks. He managed to unbutton halfway through her dress now. He leaned his forehead against hers, nuzzling his nose against hers.

“Let me kiss you,” he almost begged.

She did not reply. She simply held still.

He knew she would let him kiss her if he truly wanted to. But he would not wish to taste unwilling lips.

Then slowly, Nicholas let his right hand wander away from her dress and into air, searching for something that ought to be there on the table.

Pressing his hips closer against her as distraction, Nicholas groaned as she clamped her legs tightly at both sides of his hips.

Bloody hell, he was forgetting what he was supposed to do.

And before he did, his right hand found what it was looking for. Nicholas swallowed and closed his eyes as he ground his hips against hers and his right hand found the switch and flicked the small lamp open.

His heavy groan covered the sound, but he knew it would not be long before she discovered what he did. With his eyes closed, he waited for her angry outburst but it did not come.

Slowly, Nicholas opened his eyes, fearing that the bloody lamp was broken and that he would find he was in darkness still.

But he was not.

There was faint light behind the woman pressed against him.

His eyes widened when his green emerald eyes finally saw her.

Her eyes were half-closed, her curly, dark hair a tangle around her head. Her hands were clasping his shoulders as she tried to move against him again, but Nicholas couldn’t make himself answer her movement despite his straining erection.

Because he was in utter shock at what he was seeing.

His heart started to hammer harder against his chest as his left hand rose, shaking as he cupped her face, lightly as if in fear that she would break. He let out a breath in wonder.

She was a woman of color.

And she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

His breath shook as he caressed her face, her eyes still closed. He did not know how many seconds passed since he turned on the lamp, but he could say that he had been staring at her face for hours because that was how it felt like at that moment—everything was moving slow, giving him the chance to see her.

His suddenly inactivity must have confused her because her brows furrowed and her long, heavy lashes slowly opened.

Nicholas knew it was too late to turn off the lamp because surely she would have now realized that he did because light was visible through closed lids.

But her reaction was nowhere near surprise or fury. She simply stared ahead with a frown and Nicholas craned his head to the right to meet her gaze. But he could not because she could not.

Her pale olive eyes were nothing close to what he had ever seen before and he would love to simply look at them forever, but what he saw beneath them made him stop cold.

He could not find anything there but utter blankness.

His heart became more erratic.

“My lord?” she whispered, blinking as she did so. Her hand played with the hair on his nape.

Nicholas let out a breath of wonder. To hear her voice and see her face at the same time was incomparable to anything he had seen all over the Town, even those that had left him in utter wonder.

“My lord?” his Sophia repeated, blinking once again.

Nicholas could not answer. His right hand rose and he waved it in front of her eyes.

When she simply blinked, her beautiful face now in complete confusion and loss, Nicholas cursed under his breath. “Bloody tarnation.”

VI. The Perfect Slave

Nicholas had been left speechless merely a few times. The first was when he learned of his father’s death, the second when Margaret shared that she was a Leaguer, third when he was informed by his brother Levi that their youngest sisters were friends with bandits, and the latest was when he learned that his valet was a woman and that she was marrying Maxwell.

But this time, as he stared at Sophia’s blank face, as he took in her splendor, he was not merely speechless. He was rendered astonished, his mind staggering with such discovery.

His nostrils flared as he gazed into her pale olive eyes. He had the sudden urge to count each strand of her long, thick lashes that hovered above. Her slim nose perfectly aligned with her face, her full lips parting as if inviting him to lean closer so she could whisper her secrets.

Without realizing it, his fingertips lightly ran over her cheekbones and Sophia closed her eyes again, craning her neck to the side as his hand dipped lower down her neck.

With the faint light, he watched as her mouth twitched into a small smile before she said, “Slow?”

Bloody hell.

Nicholas swallowed. He could even attain slow. He could barely move as it is.

Slowly, Nicholas reached for the lamp behind her, looking at her face before he cleared his throat to cover the sound of the switch.

It seemed that he had to act harder this time. He forced his surprise aside and grinned despite himself, pressing his lips against her temple, smelling her scent. Bloody tarnation! Now that he had seen her face, his senses were at full throttle.

“I must beg your pardon, my sweet,” he rasped in her ear, shutting his eyes closed as her hands clasped behind his neck. “It has not crossed my mind that I ought to be somewhere of import tonight.”

She went still against him. He groaned in frustration, but he could not very well continue after what he discovered.

“I’m sorry,” he harshly whispered in her ear before he stepped back. He swayed, staggering on his feet, for his body desired to step forward and return to where it was seconds before. Clasping his hands closed into a ball, Nicholas cleared his throat once again. “I promise to return on the morrow.”

There was a short pause before she said, “I am starting to question your true motives, my lord. You did not woo yourself into my chamber simply for the challenge, yes?”

“No, of course not!” he savagely denied. “Believe me, Sophie, I would want for nothing but spend the rest of the night with you.” It was true, he thought.

But not this night.

No, perhaps on the next, but not tonight. “But a big hindrance is currently giving me agony,” he said, “and she is called Mother. “

Her chuckle was music to his ears.

Ah, bloody hell. He was doomed.

---

“What the bloody hell is the matter with you?”

Nicholas snapped his head up and found Maxwell glaring at him. They were in the drawing room, waiting for the ladies to come out of the gardens.

Maxwell brushed his long hair away from his face and narrowed his eyes at Nicholas. But it was Ralph who asked, “What is it Nick? You had been staring into air like a total fool that you already are.”

He looked around the room and found his two brothers-in-law giving him the same curious look as his brothers.

He returned his gaze on Maxwell since he was the only person in the room Nicholas knew could be very honest. “What would you do if you—”

“Ah, bloody hell,” Ralph interrupted with a frustrated sigh. He raised his palms as if in defeat. “You are smitten with the woman, are you not?”

“Which woman?” Wakefield asked.

“The one he is spying in Rock’oles,” Cole provided, giving Nicholas an assessing gaze.

Wakefield was the least of the men in the room who knew about the slavery case Cole was working on with the help of his wife, Margaret. And he was also the only person in the room who did not know Margaret was part of the League of Founders.

But to give the man credit, he never attempted to dig further, merely took what he could from such conversations.

Maxwell was the first to ask, “What was it you wish to ask?”

Nicholas sighed and shook his head. “Bother not,” he snapped. Glaring at Ralph, he added, “And I am thoroughly smitten, yes, but I still manage to keep my head together.”

“Then do it often,” Ralph said.

“Why would I when I can spend more time with the woman and enjoy myself before I ruin it all?” he taunted.

“In case you forgot, Nick,” Ralph said, “there are women and children desperately waiting for us to break this case.”

Nicholas groaned inwardly. “You put too much pressure on a dandy as what you would call me. And a rake as what most of Wickhurst would agree.” He pointed at the floor with emphasis, throwing Cole a glance as he did so, “And this matter of spying on a lovely woman is not my expertise. I was born to love them, not betray them.”

“Betray who?” Emma’s voice asked as she sauntered into the room with Ysabella. Both sisters were referred to as twins but they were really not. Emma was born two months earlier than term, falling into the same year Ysabella was born. But at that very moment, as the two of them stood near the doorway of the drawing room, arm in arm, giving the men a curious glance that could very easily morph into potential trouble, there was little doubt that they were twins. “Mother sent word that dinner is to be served in the dining hall, but you cannot leave this room without answering my question. Betray who?”

The men looked at each other.

“You,” Nicholas quickly replied, jumping to his feet.

“Me?” Emma asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“We were talking about marrying you off,” Ralph nonchalantly provided, following Nicholas out of the door.

“You cannot surely be thinking it,” Emma said, chortling in disbelief. But the laughter in her green emerald eyes slowly died as she took a good look at Maxwell who had risen to his feet and was now making his way toward her. “You are not serious, are you?”

Maxwell shrugged and patted her cheek. “We were discussing the amount of dowry.”

Cole and Wakefield chuckled as Emma scowled after her brothers, disengaging herself from Ysabella who tried to stop her by saying, “Em, they are not serious!” but Emma did not hear her.

“You cannot marry me off!” She shouted, storming after them. “I will never marry! You will beat the man to shambles if one comes about and I would gladly pay you all a handsome townsend if you do!”

“We already have one in mind, Em,” Ralph cried over his shoulder.

Nicholas clucked his tongue as he entered the dining room where the rest of their family was waiting.

“Nicholas! Ralph!” Emma shouted behind them, causing both men to snicker as they took their seats around the long dining table.

“I told you, Maxine, dear,” their mother, Lady Alice Everard, said to Maxwell’s wife, “that there is no need to check where they are. They always have a way of making their presence known.” She watched her children settle in their respective seats. The husbands sat with their wives while Nicholas, Ralph and Emma sat at the end of the table. “Now, children,” their mother said sternly, “do settle down. And I meant all of you. The real children are upstairs having their own picnic as we speak and they are far less boisterous than the lot of you.”

“And I do wish to be with the children than these horrid ones!” Emma started, pointing at Nicholas and Ralph. “And you too, Maxwell,” she added.

“Come now, Emma,” Ralph said, feigning boredom. “We all know you must be wed soon. You cannot forever live with a cat that disappears every month and our dear mother deserves her freedom. And have you not been matching couples since you were ten?”

“Twelve,” Ysabella corrected.

“And what does it have to do with me being married?” She glared at Nicholas. “And who is this man you claim to turn into my husband?”

Nicholas shrugged. “One you do not know, I swear.”

“You mean one I shall have hanged before he can make an offer!” She snapped her head at the black-haired woman at the head of the table. “Mother, please do tell these gentlemen that I have the right to—”

“You ought to know by now, Emma, dear, that your brothers live to torment you,” their mother said dismissively.

“So,” Nicholas said, ignoring Emma’s murderous glare, “who has the happiest news?”

Everyone looked at Cole and Margaret.

Margaret sighed. She threw Emma a look. Emma raised her hand in defense and said, “I merely told Nick and no one else.”

“I never told anyone,” Nicholas said.

Margaret turned to Ysabella who then turned to Wakefield. Wakefield’s eyes widened as he stammered, “Mother told me the news.”

Margaret closed her eyes and sighed. Everyone turned to Lady Alice who let out a chuckle. “Oh,” she said, clearing her throat. “I might have told a few of my dearest friends and Lady Hayward is amongst them. She is practically family, see?”

“By few you mean also sending a hasty letter to Lady Theobald,” Maxwell wryly uttered.

Maxine turned to Margaret with an amused smile. “My mother sends her felicitations, Maggie.”

Shaking her head, turned to her husband and said, “Then perhaps we might as well call the children and tell them the news. They do not—”

Cole cleared his throat with a guilty look.

Margaret groaned.

“I might have slipped the news to Faye and Fiona,” Cole admitted. “They are very perceptive, Meg.”

Margaret raised her hands in defeat. “And should I ask who shared the happy news to those in Devonshire and Standbury?”

Everyone around the table looked at each other.

“Oh,” Ysabella cheerfully jumped in her seat. “I sent Agatha a letter. I might have added a post script, Maggie.”

Margaret turned to their mother who gave her a sweet smile. “Of course, dear, I had to tell Levi. He is your brother, after all. And Tori is your best friend!”

Margaret chuckled in disbelief and frustration. Cole reached for his wine and said, “Then let us all assume the happy news is delivered and cheer for the new addition to the family.”

Everyone except Margaret took their glasses.

Lady Alice clapped her hands together as dinner was being served a moment later. She turned to Maxwell and Maxine with an expectant look.

Without sparing his mother a glance, Maxwell droned, “What is it, Mother?”

“Happy news to share, son?”

“None,” was Maxwell’s fast reply. Maxine nudged him by her elbow and he sighed. “Maxine and I are enjoying marital bliss. That is one happy news as it is. As to a child, mother, I promise that you shall not hear the news until the babe is born for I shall not have my wife’s pregnancy be published on the Herald.”

Maxine started to say something but her husband stopped her by saying, “And perhaps you would like to ask Nicholas,” Maxwell said, expertly diverting the topic. “He does fancy someone.”

Nicholas almost choked on his food. He could see Emma and Ysabella leaning over their plates to gawk at him with great interest. “No, I do not fancy—”

“The woman in Rock’oles?” their mother asked and it was everyone else’s turn to choke on their food and simultaneously reach for their wine.

“Mother, please,” Nicholas groaned, kicking Ralph under the table when his brother appeared to be enjoying the torment.

“I demand to see this woman,” their mother insisted.

“Perhaps you must consider the fact, Mother,” Margaret calmly uttered, “that she is Nicholas’ mistress.”

“Why? Can a man not marry his mistress? McKenzie Haverston did, did he not?”

“Mother!” Ysabella said, choking with laugher.

“And were we not there when he begged her to marry him?” Lady Alice added with an innocent tone.

“I do not believe she will wish to meet you, Mother,” Nicholas said simply for the sake of ending the conversation. “And I am certain she has no desire to see any of you for she simply cannot. It is just not done.”

“If you change your mind, we can arrange for tea,” Lady Alice offered. “I have always wondered what these Rock’oles women are like.”

The men around the table cleared their throats in discomfort.

“My friends said that you simply have to imagine a woman from any brothel dressed in the most expensive gowns,” their mother continued. “But I do not think that it is the best description. We cannot simply judge these women—”

“Mother, please,” Nicholas said, this time his tone serious. “Women in Rock’oles stay where they are for they know their place in society. There is no need for us to begin to imagine them outside of their world. We shall merely be causing them further perdition.”

His mother appeared stunned for a long while before she blinked and smiled. “Oh, very well, then,” she said with a shrug. She turned to Margaret. “Now, dear, tell me what you wish for this babe. Do you want another boy or a girl?”

Nicholas did not realize he had gotten tense until Ralph threw him a look. He gave his brother another kick under the table but heard Emma cry out in pain instead.

“Who was that!” Emma demanded, turning to Ralph. “Was that you?”

Before Ralph could muster a reply through his laughter, Emma smacked his arm.

“Now, now, children!” their mother cried out, breaking her conversation with Margaret. “Goodness, you will be the death of me, I swear! I have said it many times and I am utterly certain of it now!”

“It was Nick, Em!” Ysa said over the ruckus. “Simply look at his face!”

“How I do miss Ben at a time like this,” Maxwell was heard saying to his wife.

Nicholas snorted and reached for his wine, spinning to the side to save his leg from Emma’s kick.

And that was how he liked his family dinner.

---

Nicholas carried a sleeping Fiona into the carriage, depositing the child beside Faye and said to Margaret and Cole, “Felicitations, you two. You are terrific parents.”

His sister smiled and blew him a kiss before he closed the carriage. Ralph joined him, both of them also ready to depart.

“If what you say is true,” Ralph said in a serious tone, watching Ysabella and Wakefield board their carriage, “that this woman is blind, then she is the perfect person for Durley and his slavery trade.” Nicholas’ jaw tightened. “She cannot see the men who enter her chamber. She is the perfect messenger.”

Their mother was approaching them with Emma beside her. “You mean she is the perfect slave,” he muttered to his brother before he smiled to accept his mother’s embrace of goodbye.

---

Sophia was playing with the smaller lamp on her bedside table as she waited. She had flicked it on and off a few times, her vision still in total darkness.

For seven years since she arrived in Rock’oles, she had always wondered how it was like for her visitors to merely have such small amount of light. Or was it small indeed? Perhaps it was enough for them to study her from head to foot without the help of the brighter ceiling light, that she was simply too blind to not realize that she was the only one who found the need for more.

When she heard the lock turn from outside, she turned off the bedside lamp and stood to her feet. With great ease, she found her spot in one corner. Brigid jumped on her lap and she petted the cat as she waited with a smile.

“Hello, Sophie.” Nicholas Everard’s voice was far from the strained one she last heard, reminding her of that odd moment. “I am praying you are not naked,” he added, his voice getting nearer. “For I expect to talk before we continue where we left off.”

Sophia swallowed her anxiety. The thought of being bedded by Nicholas Everard was both exciting and scary. There was no encounter with Nicholas that she was not reminded of the men who had taken her in the past. But his nearness also reminded her of what she had never experienced before, thus the excitement.

Yet for now, despite how she liked how his touch made her feel, the fear and constant desire to preserve and protect herself was prevailing. It was a pattern too hard to break, a habit too strong to replace.

But she could act. She could act as though she needed him. She did want him in a way, yes, but she did not need him because Marcus had already given her what she needed most and she could not ask for more.

She was surprised when Nicholas fell beside her in the settee, causing Brigid to jump away in alarm. “Now,” his teasing voice said beside her ear, “where do you wish to start?”

Sophia swallowed. “Stripping?” she teased, planting her palm over his thigh.

He jerked in reaction and she smiled. At the very least she knew he desired her. She could work on that.

“I truly meant it when I said I expect to talk first, darling,” he said, taking her hand into his. “Tell me something. How did you come to be in Rock’oles?”

She frowned. No one had dared ask her that question because no one truly cared. Since there was no use lying, she decided to tell Nicholas the truth. “Someone kind found me in a brothel where I grew up and took me here.”

She hitched her left leg over the settee and turned to face him. He did the same and they faced each other in the darkness—in her darkness.

Without thinking, her hands raised to his shoulders. He was a broad man, even larger than Marcus. Nicholas Everard could very easily overpower almost all her visitors.

“And you like it here?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I merely have one place to compare Rock’oles with, my lord,” she whispered, her thoughts already drifting away as her fingers lightly moved over his face, etching each curve and edges into her mind, “and I can tell you that this is like heaven.”

---

Nicholas did not know what had gotten into him but the moment he entered the chamber, he blindly found his way to the bedside lamp to turn it on, covering the sound by saying, “Hello, Sophie.”

And then his chest expanded as he took a deep breath in awe at the sight of her sitting in her corner, petting a black cat. He cared not that the dog was at one corner, following his gaze, or the fact that the cat looked utterly familiar. He cared not for his attention was solely on her.

And now, as she traced his face with her fingers, and knowing that she was probably trying to make a picture of him in her mind, he was overpowered with an intense desire to give her something—anything.

He wanted to show her what was beyond her walls, beyond her eternal darkness.

For the first time since his first visit in Rock’oles, Nicholas did not bother to stare at what a woman was wearing. He cared less that she was wearing a thin nightgown because the color of her eyes were far more interesting. And as he studied them he realized that he wanted to see more of her, probably even more than her desire to see him.

And for a brief moment, he felt utter grief which was soon replaced with guilt. How could he have lived his life ignorant of these people? They were beautiful and they deserved a glance, even a second one.

He had seen merely a few colored people in his life for they were often not seen and when he did, he would always look away. He could not ignore them as most of his acquaintances could for he simply could not. All he could do was look away for that was what was expected—it was etiquette.

If colored individuals were around, they were expected to disappear as fast as they came. They were not considered a part of anything, especially in a town such as Wickhurst. They were the people who worked the harder labor, the unseen forces behind the easy lives of the privileged. Never had Nicholas conversed with a colored individual for their race was silent and unseen, because that was what society expected from all classes.

And so it was with great and utter amazement that Nicholas found himself saying to Sophia, a woman of color, a woman he barely knew, a woman he was expected to use to betray the man who saved her from her past, the very words he had never dared ask a woman before. “Sophie, come away with me.”

VII. Lamps

“I can help you be free from this place,” he said in earnest, gathering her hands in his. She blinked and whether she was aware of it or not, she was staring up right at him.

Nicholas felt a pang inside his chest, a slight kind of pain. She was staring straight at him and she was not even aware that he knew it, that he was seeing her. Worse, she was not aware that she was looking straight at him and Nicholas wanted her to see him not for vanity but because he simply desired to share something. He wanted to find more of her secrets through her eyes, to catch the hidden things she was trying to hide.

While Nicholas held his breath in anticipation, Sophia’s lips began to curl into a smile until a chuckle escaped her, causing Nicholas to frown. “My lord, you must realize that you have spoken an impossible thing.”

He shook his head. “No. I want to take you away from this dratted place.”

Her laughter died down until only a small hint of a bitter smile remained on her lips. “And how many women in Rock’oles have you made this offer to?”

“None.”

Her brows arched. “None.” Pulling her hand free from his grasp, Sophia tilted her head to the side. “And why would you want to take me away from this place?”

“Because I know this is not where you are meant to be.”

“My lord, someone like me does not belong anywhere.”

“Everyone has a place, Sophie. Rock’oles is not it for you.”

Her lips twitched. “And what do you intend to do to me should I allow you to take me from here?”

The question left him stunned. Yes, what did he intend to do to her if she ever left with him?“

“Would you keep me in a dungeon for you to visit if you find the need to?”

“I don’t have a dungeon, good God!”

“Then perhaps you will find good use of me by employing me as your scullery maid? I assure you, I can thoroughly do chores despite my lack of certain faculties. My uncle who raised me made sure that I did.”

“No, of course not.”

Nicholas vowed to someday find this uncle and make the bastard pay.

Amusement filled her face now. Her eyes glimmered with it and Nicholas found himself drawn to them. “Then you plan to turn me into your mistress?”

No word escaped him. Yes, she could be his mistress. Mistresses were born because men needed them, but they created themselves for one sole reason: protection. Women in the Town had far less power. They were seen as things to be owned and protected by the men—their fathers, brothers, husbands and lovers. There might be few who were lucky enough to have both money and protection, but to most of them they had to thrive to gain it even if they had to lose their virtues.

But to think of Sophia as his mistress was not simply far-fetched, but it was also simply not done. A colored woman living in an estate with white servants to attend to her and drive her carriage was not just done!

Before he could even make himself begin to believe of the possibility, Nicholas was drawn back to the present by Sophia’s voice as she continued her questions. “Situate me in an expensive estate and dress me in ball gowns? You must be insane if you even start to imagine it.”

She was taunting him. She was mocking him.

“I am utterly serious, Sophie,” he said, leaning closer. “We can find a way for you to live—a place for you other than Rock’oles. You are in grave danger by being here and you know it.”

She stiffened and her expression turned blank.

“Durley is using you.”

“Lord Durley does not use me against my will, my lord.”

“He is and you know it! I believe you not to be daft to not realize it.”

“Merely after a few visits and you have concluded that I have an amazing mental faculty. Then perhaps you are the daft one, my lord.”

His jaw clenched. She was not taking this seriously.

“He is the one who rescued you from the brothel.” The smile on her face froze. “You believe him to be your savior and he has led you to do things for him in return for his heroic deeds. He is manipulating you for his own advantage.”

His statement finally got to her as evidenced by the clenching of her jaw.

“Sophie, do you even realize what Durley is doing? The extent of it?”

She blinked but refused to answer.

“Sophie—”

“He told me you have other motives,” she surprised him by saying, her voice cold.

Bloody hell.

“And it seems that he is correct.” The smile on her face was now gone. “You are here for a different reason.”

“I am here for two reasons: one, of course, is to be with you in that bed and the other is to help put an end to the slave trade.” When she turned her face away, he reached for her hand again, squeezing it as he said, “Sophie, Durley is doing transactions with—”

“Many men,” she finished for him. Her blank gaze was directed at nowhere. “And of course, you are aware of them.”

“Not all.”

She smiled. “Which is why you are here. You wish to know more about their transactions. You believe I can tell you or perhaps you were hoping you can also manipulate me into helping you.”

He clenched his jaw and sighed.

Ralph would kill him. He knew his brother would! What would a Town Guard do at a situation such as this?

Bloody hell be damned because Nicholas was utterly at a loss on how to proceed! His training was seduction, not this! The only mission he had been very good at was to bed even the most reluctant woman, not manipulate a beautiful, colored, blind woman living in Rock’oles!

“You could have continued to woo me and use me to your advantage without my knowledge,” she said, breaking the silence, turning her head to face him again. Her eyes stared blankly at his cravat. “Why? Why did you so foolishly tell me the truth?”

Because he is a fool, Nicholas swore he heard Ralph’s voice answer in his head.

“Because I know you are no fool,” he said. He stood up to put some distance between them for her nearness was not helping him think. “You allowed me entry because Durley ordered you to.”

Her lips pursed and Nicholas knew he was correct. He drew a breath to calm himself, believing he was tackling the right path. His mind began to work.

“I am not as completely foolish as you might think not to realize that he has ears and eyes everywhere in this place.” When her blank gaze wavered, Nicholas almost jumped in triumph. He guessed right, did he not? Of course he did! Gaining more confidence, he continued, “He knew of my visits outside your chamber and he knew that my brother is a Town Guard. And for having evaded justice for years with his illegal slave trade, I assume he is not stupid.”

Sophia moistened her lips. Her eyes blinked rapidly as her hands restlessly smoothed her flimsy nightgown. She was uneasy now and he was grinning like a fool for his momentary brilliance.

“Come with me,” he said in almost a whisper, turning serious. If he was ever to miserably fail this bloody mission, he at least had to be able to face his brother and say he did his best. He was not a Town Guard for a reason and he just proved it today.

He knew he failed when she started to shake her head. “It is not very easy, my lord.” The bitter smile returned on her lips.

“Whyever not? Just get up, pack your things and storm out the bloody door. My carriage is waiting outside at this very moment. You do not have to be seen near Rock’oles ever again. I will do my best to provide you with protection. I have means.”

“Tempting offer, my lord, but I must regretfully decline. I am not someone you ought to waste your resources for.”

“Sophie—”

“Someone very powerful is holding Lord Durley and the others and I am amongst them. We cannot easily walk away when such a powerful man has us on a leash.” When Nicholas waited with bated breath, she added, “Alan Osegod, the Head of the Town Leaders, is a part of all of this.”

Nicholas was surprised that she told him about Osegod, of this very sensitive information. “All the more reason why you ought to come with me. You can help end all of this.”

She shook her head. “I am not someone who could easily saunter in front of the Men of Courts and be believed.”

“No, you are someone . That is enough for—”

“I am not a witness, my lord, if that is what you are thinking. I do not know everything for I never read any of the letters being passed around these men. I am naught but a messenger. I cannot help you or your brother.”

Nicholas gritted his teeth in frustration. “Do you know what else is Osegod involved with? Do you know the extent of his plans?”

“No and I am telling you, my lord, I know nothing.”

A surge of anger erupted inside Nicholas. “He has gathered many gentries under his wing to use and manipulate. He tried to do the same to my family and when we did not cooperate, he caused an accident in one of our mines. My sister-in-law is limping because of a carriage accident that bastard has staged. And although he had decided to leave us be for now, I know that he shall find his way back. The slave case is the only way we can assure that Osegod can never harm us or any other family again. We have knowledge that he is planning something far bigger and this slave trade is naught but one of his lousy games, but it is the only way to begin. We need all the help we can have.”

Her nose flared. “I did not know that he has done those things to your family.”

“I don’t expect you to sympathize. I simply expect that you help us.”

“But as I have said, I do not know anything!” The anger and frustration in her voice was also imminent.

“Then what do you intend to do? Keep pretending that there are no women and children being stolen from their villages to be sold for hard labor without pay? You shall stay inside this bloody dark chamber of yours and content yourself with the short visits from these despicable men?”

“You have said enough, my lord,” she said, her voice shaking. “Please, do not tempt me to order you to remove yourself from my chamber.”

“I might as well do it!” he hissed. “You and I both know why I am here in the first place. I am here to upon my brother’s request and you upon your master’s orders. That is what Durley is to you, Sophie. He is your master and you are naught but his own personal slave—a very willing one!”

She turned her head to the right, her beautiful face filled with stubbornness.

“Bloody tarnation,” Nicholas said, whirling around in search for something. If this was to be his last visit, he might as well plead his case with a much better lighting.

Finding the switch for the ceiling lamp by the door, he stormed forward and flicked it on.

The entire chamber was suddenly filled with bright light, brighter than what was necessary. Nicholas turned to find Sophia staring at him with eyes round with surprise.

As he moved, he realized her gaze was following him and he went cold.

The cat hissed at the same time the dog growled, alerted by the light. But Nicholas could not focus on them for he was stupefied.

Bloody hell.

Sophia’s face was dark with fury and Nicholas ground his teeth, cursing himself.

Bullocks!

She was not completely blind after all.

VIII. Spies

Sophia could feel her rage surging inside her, rising to her head. Her ears began to ring as she watched Nicholas’ dark form move forward.

“Stop!” Her voice shook with intense fury yet she could not find herself to move and thrash at him as what she wanted to. She wanted to shout, to grab something and throw it at him.

He had broken her first rule.

“Soph—”

She did not let him finish. She stood up and walked to her bedside table to reach for the lamp. It was hot.

The ringing in her ears worsened that she nearly closed her eyes. Aabha had walked to stand between her and Nicholas. Brigid was standing beside her, hissing.

“How long have you known?” she demanded, her voice almost a whisper. She was afraid that if she were to speak louder, it would merely cause the guards to come to her chamber.

“For quite some time,” Nicholas replied. She saw his form move to face her. “I was not aware that you can see. I thought—”

“I can see well enough to know that you have neglected my rule!”

At that moment she hated the fact that she could merely see shadows on his face. She wanted to see how he looked. Was he wearing a look of pity? Of contempt? Had he a mocking look on his face?

“Sophie—”

“My number one rule is that you cannot see me!” she hissed.

“Why?” he asked, his voice almost angry. “Because you are a woman of color?”

Sophia’s breathing became heavier as she struggled for control. She rarely felt anger. She knew fear, she knew anxiety. But anger was something she was not used to for she had long learned that it took her nowhere.

“You fear to be seen and scorned? Is that what your rule is all about?” Nicholas continued, taking one step toward her. She stepped back until she was pressed against the table. “Let me tell you one thing, Sophia,” he said, voice careful yet stern, “I am Nicholas Everard. I am not like most of them.”

“You merely think that to be true,” she snapped. “The fact that you ignored my rule merely proves that you are just like everyone else.”

“I know you are of color and that you are bloody blind! Almost blind, that is. Did that stop me from coming back?” he asked, ignoring her words.

“You keep coming for the very same reason why you wooed your way into my chamber!” she gritted through her teeth.

“That is partly true, but you must realize, woman, that I find you too bloody attractive to—”

Sophia did not realize that she had grabbed the empty drinking glass beside the lamp and flung it across the room. It crashed against the wall, barely missing Nicholas.

“Bloody hell, woman!” he cried out.

“Dare not mock me again, my lord,” she warned.

He stepped closer and said, “Please, not the bloody lamp!” when she started to reach for it. Within a second he was able to reach her, grabbing her hands in his.

Aabha started to growl but he did not seem to mind. Brigid had jumped to the side, still hissing.

“Let me go or I shall have my pets make a meal out of you!”

“No, not until you listen to me,” he insisted sternly, his breathing brushing against her face. “Listen to me,” he repeated over the sounds of her distressed pets when she struggled to be free, turning her face away from his.

She had let other men stare at her before. Why could she not keep her head straight now that she knew Nicholas could see her?

“I do not mind, Sophie,” he said, his voice more gentle. “I do not mind. Did you hear? You are bloody beautiful and I want to help you. You do not deserve to be in this place. You ought to be somewhere where you can be free.”

“My kind is never free anywhere,” she hissed, pulling at her hands but his grip merely tightened.

“Then you shall be the first to be!” he hissed.

Her nose flared. She snapped her head up to look at him but merely saw the shadows of his eyes, his nose and mouth. Her eyes welled with the fury and the desire to see more of him.

When he thought that she was calm enough, he let go of her hands and cupped both sides of her face, running his thumbs gently over he cheeks. “You are beautiful, Sophie. You do not deserve this place. Let me help you.”

Sophia veered her eyes to the right, intent and stubborn at the same time.

She knew why he was doing this. She knew why he was here.

And she knew she could not allow him to walk away. Not now.

“This has been a rough visit,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead but she turned away and his lips landed on her temple.

He stepped back while Sophie still had her head turned, her anger reigning over her.

“Now, before you can tell me never to come here again, I shall take my leave.”

She heard his footsteps walking away. And then she heard the door open. “Think of my offer, Sophie,” he quietly said before he left.

Sophia stayed in her spot for a long time, her thoughts wandering to Nicholas’ offer of freedom before flinching back to reality. She reached down to calm Aabha while she looked around her room, taking in the forms and shadows of everything around her.

Nicholas Everard was wrong.

He offered mere fantasy.

This was her reality. And it was the best she had ever had.

---

Nicholas stormed out of Rock’oles and past the guards. He climbed into his carriage waiting for him outside.

It was hard to realize what he truly felt at that moment as the carriage rolled its way back to Wickhurst.

He had always despised deleterious emotions for he was not one who could handle such stress. He would rather not feel such weight on his shoulder or his conscience for there were far better things to enjoy in life!

Nicholas had always abhorred great responsibilities for such things came with difficult decisions and sleepless nights of fretting over the consequences. One of the reasons why he wished never to marry was the problem it would bring.

Yet now it seemed that problems were the only things that had been coming to him. Not merely was he short of staff in his own household which was already a problem for him, he also had to face grave challenges like Osegod and this bloody slavery case.

And now he had to face yet another challenge: convince a prostitute to trust him.

With frustration, Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands.

He had been a bloody idiot. He ought not to have asked her to come with him this soon for it was apparent she was not like the others who would have fainted at his proposal. And he definitely did not have to flick the blasted ceiling lamp!

But who would have thought that a woman who could not see with a small bloody lamp could actually do with a bigger one? A doctor could have guessed her condition, but Nicholas was not a doctor for many reasons! He was not a bloody Town Guard as well. And he most definitely was not a Leaguer! So why in tarnation was he in this mess?

Ah, yes, of course—family.

If not for the threat the Everards were facing, Nicholas could be back on traveling around the Town, hunting with his friends and brothers.

Ah, how he missed those times.

But things had changed quite so fast in the recent years.

Levi married. Ralph became a Town Guard. Benedict was still Benedict but his brother would be of much use if he was still unmarried and still resided in Wickhurst.

His sisters could have stayed unmarried as well.

Why did no one stay the same as they were? Why did everything have to change?

But they did , he thought, gazing out the window at the dire scenery outside.

Osegod could be on to them still. The bastard was not the head of the Leaders for nothing. He came to where he was with determination and connection. And now he had the power and he wanted more of it.

And they, the Everards, had done things Osegod did not appreciate.

It would not be long before the man might make his move again.

Whatever he had to do, however he had to do it, Nicholas must gain Sophia’s trust.

If Margaret had managed to make one big sacrifice before for family, he could very well do so as well.

But Nicholas doubted if he could play this game too long. Seducing a woman to bed was one thing, misleading and using her for survival was a far more dangerous and complicated story.

---

Sophia slipped through the secret door and felt her way down the corridor that led to Marcus’ private study. Turning the door handle, she opened the door.

Marcus had naught but one rule for her: Enter if the door is unlocked, go back to your chamber if it is.

His study was with enough light for her to see the shapes of the furniture, but not Marcus’s face. She settled in the winged chair situated across his desk and folded her hands on her lap.

“Glad that you fancied to step out of your chamber today,” he greeted with an amused tone. “But I must ask you a question. Why in the bloody hell are you keeping Whiston out of your chamber? Mast reports that you have not sent for him for nearly a week now. And he has been outside your door every day since his last visit. Yesterday he was forcefully taken from the corridor.” When Sophia remained silent, Marcus impatiently asked, “What happened, Sophia? What is this game you are playing?”

Sophia let out a breath. “I simply needed time to calm myself.”

“Why so?”

Her jaw tightened as she said, “The Lord of Whiston broke my first rule.”

She heard Marcus curse under his breath. “I do not care about your rules. Take him back into your chamber and charm your way into his brother’s secrets. We do not have forever.”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I shall take him back when I deem myself ready to face him.”

“You do not have to like the man, Sophia. You can always pretend. Men are venal creatures, my dear. Use that to your advantage.” She watched as Marcus shifted in his seat. “Now, quit the games and let the man into your chamber. Make him trust you and we get what we want. The sooner you do, the sooner he shall disappear.”

With a sigh, Sophia nodded.

“Good.” Marcus sighed. “I cannot fulfill my plans without your cooperation.”

The silence reigned between them for a time.

“What if they do not truly know anything?” she asked. “What if they get more from us instead?”

Marcus chuckled. “They will not be able to take anything of value, my dear. Everything Whiston might pick up from his visits is from me.”

Sophia’s lips quirked. “And you are not a foolish man.”

“No, my dear, I am not.”

---

Nicholas did not bother to go outside Sophia’s chamber after the guards dragged him down the corridor. He still had his pride to soothe after such embarrassing incident.

“No trip to the mysterious chamber tonight, eh, Whiston?” one lord asked with a laugh. Some others joined and Nicholas merely rolled his eyes.

Ralph shook his head in disappointment. “Three days ago you said she was merely having a tantrum.”

Nicholas cleared his throat and murmured under his breath, “She is merely thinking over my proposal.”

Ralph scoffed. “Whatever made you think she will accept? And whatever will do with her if she agrees?”

Nicholas raised his brows and leaned closer to whisper, “Whatever made you think I was true to my proposal, you idiot?”

Ralph appeared stunned for a moment. And then he chuckled. “You bloody bastard.”

Nicholas leaned back against his chair with a sneer. He suddenly felt reluctant but then he knew that whatever he wanted to say would merely urge Ralph to prove how foolish he was in as many ways he could. With arrogance, Nicholas said, “I am a rakehell for a reason, brother. I can make women believe in fantasies.”

“Simply do be sure that you don’t fall victim to this fantasy, Nick,” Ralph warned. “She is a woman you would not wish to complicate your perfect life.”

Nicholas hid the clenching of his jaw by drowning his brandy. “Fret not, little brother. I am an expert on weaving fantasies while adeptly living in naught but reality.”

While Ralph shook his head, the door to the gaming room opened and Mast walked in. The manager went straight to Nicholas and he slowly stood with a big grin on his face, sending the envious men gaping at him a mocking smile. “Have a good night, gentlemen,” he said as Mast led him to the door that led to the corridors.

“You took your precious time, Mast,” he uttered to the man who remained silent.

They walked down the corridor toward Sophia’s chamber.

Nicholas felt his heart hammering against his chest once more.

Bloody tarnation!

When Mast pushed the door open, the light from inside the chamber surprised him. He did expect her to return to her darkness, but he was wrong. This merely proved that Sophia was not as predictable as he thought.

As he stepped inside, he realized he would have to be more careful now.

“I am willing to accept your help,” her calm, soft voice said from the same corner.

Nicholas turned to see her sitting there with the black cat on her lap. He frowned at the feline for a moment before he traveled his eyes over Sophia.

She looked exquisite in that thin layer of white fabric. For a brief moment the thought of other men seeing her in naught but that article of clothing caused a rancorous taste to rise up his throat, but he mentally shook his head.

At the very least he must be grateful that she did not cover herself from neck to foot. It meant she was willing to provide him with the same services she offered the others in bed. He was no fool not to enjoy that while doing his brother’s work for him.

But that would have to wait for the tension between him and Sophia was as strong as it was when he visited her last.

She was refusing to look at him. Nicholas fought the urge to ask how much she could truly see, to interrogate her of how she fell into such condition. That, of course, would have to wait for later.

At the moment, all he could muster was a serious tone. “First, we need to know your enemies.”

“I do not have any, my lord.”

“But you do, Sophie,” he said with a smile. “The men you are working for are the enemies of the Town itself. I assume you do not know them by name?”

Her eyes wavered. “No.”

“Then we must learn who they are. My brother can help us. At the moment, I only know of Baldwin. There are others who claim to have visited you, but I cannot be certain if they are telling the truth.”

“I do not know who Baldwin is and—”

“The one who reeks of cigar smoke.”

Her brows rose in recognition. “Of course.” He watched her swallow, shifting her position in the chaise. The cat snuggled closer in her hands. “Will you truly help me escape from here?”

Nicholas forced a smile on his face. “I deliver my promises, Sophie.”

She nodded and squared her shoulders. “Then what do you wish me to do?”

“Spy on Durley. If we can catch everyone involved in the slave trade, you will be free amongst many others.”

He saw the hesitation in her face and for that moment he was almost certain she would take a step back and ring for the guards. Durley, after all, was the man she considered her savior.

“Very well,” was her curt reply. “If you promise me a few things.”

“Pray tell.”

“Promise me that you shall spare Lord Durley. Promise me that you will take me away from here after it is all done and that you shall provide me with protection. If you say yes to all of this, my lord, I shall do what you ask.”

Nicholas swallowed the bitter taste of guilt in his throat and forced a smile. “You have my word, Sophie.”

IX. Claims

The awkward silence that followed was deafening, causing Nicholas to clear his throat not merely twice but a few times.

Yet it seemed that Sophia was the one in control as she stood to her feet with a nonchalant expression on her face, as though their previous topic was less serious than it truly was. He maintained his serious mien, still uncertain how much she could see or read on his face. It was better to assume that she could read his mind.

“I shall have another visitor on the morrow.” Her voice was calm and collected. Nicholas wondered if she had rehearsed what to say should they reach their current arrangement. “You ought to come early and wait for me to call for you. By then, you shall have the chance to read the note my visitor shall leave behind before the receiver gets a hold of it.”

Nicholas shook his head. “The letters shall be anonymous, yes?”

“I would not know for I have never laid eyes on any of them. I only know what Marcus tells me.”

“Then I would want to know the men who come into your chamber. Rock’oles has many corridors and anyone of them could very well take any to enter and exit yours.”

“I cannot possibly name them, but I can provide you with descriptions.”

“Can you not put something on their clothes instead? Anything that will give me a sign.”

She shook her head. “No. These men are very cautious. They will suspect it that moment I change my behavior toward them.”

Her behavior toward them? That statement made Nicholas frown. “And what sort of behavior do you usually exhibit?”

She let out a mysterious smile meant to disarm and frustrate him further. “A mistress should not disclose secrets of her lovers—former or current.”

His jaw tightened. Although he knew that Rock’oles women such as Sophia could not be exclusively owned, he still hated the thought of her with other men. And to think that he had not even bedded her yet! It was a troubling thought, but then, men never wanted to share anything, especially women.

“Very well,” he said, feigning indifference. His eyes landed on the familiar black cat licking its fur on the chaise. He frowned and asked, “May I inquire who that is?” he asked, pointing at the feline, glad to have spotted something to discuss.

Sophia followed his gaze and narrowed her eyes at the black cat. “You mean Brigid?”

Nicholas stepped forward until he was beside Sophia and bent down, his hands leaning on his thighs. He studied the cat closely and his eyes rounded when he saw its bright green eyes. “I am quite certain this is Mrs. Beagle.”

“Mrs. Beagle? Whatever do you mean, my lord?”

“It is bloody Mrs. Beagle!” He exclaimed the words in such a way that caused the cat to jump off the chaise and scurry under the bed. The white dog stood alert in one corner, starting to growl.

“You are scaring my pets, my lord,” Sophia sternly uttered, walking over to her dog to give it a calming pat. “And who is Mrs. Beagle?”

“My sisters’ pet,” he distractedly murmured, walking to the bed and dropping to the floor. “You!” he said to the cat as its glowing eyes turned to him, “You are coming home with me, you wench of a cat!”

“My lord!” Sophia gasped.

“This bloody feline has been disappearing every month from the Everard estate since I can remember and now I know where it disappears to!” he said over his shoulder before he again bent his head against the floor. “Mrs. Beagle, come out at once. You are wanted in the Everard estate. You are the most ungrateful, unfaithful leech I have ever met!”

“My lord!” Sophia said, more sternly this time. “That cat is mine. I named it Brigid, not Mrs. Beagle.”

Nicholas went up on his knees and shook his head. “No, this is Mrs. Beagle.”

“No, it is my cat. Now, if you please, stand on your feet and forget about the cat.”

Nicholas sighed.

“There are many cats in the Town, my lord. And many of them are black.”

“But I know Mrs. Beagle. I have seen—”

“I do not wish to discuss Brigid at the moment,” Sophia said, walking to the chaise. “Would you like a drink?”

Nicholas glared at the foot of the bed. “I will see you when you return home, you sneaking feline,” he hissed under his breath before he moved to join Sophia in the chaise. “Now, Sophie,” he said with a smile, “Where were we?”

---

“How was your negotiation with Whiston?” Marcus asked in a calm voice.

“Everything went according to plan, Marcus, fret not,” she said, feigning a yawn. “I am rather tired. I wish to retire early.”

Marcus stood and placed something on the table. Sophia narrowed her eyes to study it closely. A letter.

“You shall give this to him on the morrow.”

“He wishes to know the men who deliver the letters,” she gravely uttered.

“Simply think of anyone that your imagination can come up with,” he retorted.

As he walked to toward the secret door, Sophia added, “He has asked me to go away with him, Marcus.”

Marcus chuckled. “You believe him?”

“No, of course not.”

“It cannot be done, my dear.”

“I know,” she muttered.

“We know why he is here. He shall promise you the world if he has to. Bloody hell, he would even beg to build you a hole above your head to woo you.”

“You need not elaborate, Marcus. I know how to recognize a man who promises fantasies.”

“Of course. Considering the hell I rescued you from, you are one of the few who knows that fantasies turn to nightmares in a blink of an eye.”

“But what if he is telling the truth? What if he truly intends to take me away?”

A long, eerie silence followed before Marcus said, “Then I shall scour every corner of the Town to take you back,” Marcus snapped. “Dare not doubt his actions, Sophia. It is not safe.”

She nodded for her mind agreed with Marcus.

Nicholas Everard was potentially a danger.

---

Nicholas came home to Whiston to be alone. He did not wish to be bothered in his Wickhurst apartment, but it was apparent that his sisters still found a way to be of nuisance anywhere he might be.

“Maxine, I believe, is at Kenward,” he wryly stated as Ysabella and Emma chatted over tea and biscuits. Ysabella was sewing something on a handkerchief, a hobby she had recently picked up and was turning to be worse at with each passing day, while Emma was holding a closed book, one finger tucked into a page. When both sisters ignored him, he added, “She is there because that is where she lives with her husband. Merely a few minutes away from here, in fact, and I believe the two of you have misplaced yourselves.”

Both women ignored him.

“I can send a note for Wakefield to gather the two of you from there once he is done with his meeting,” he added, uncrossing his legs. “And I shall gladly deposit you at the Kenward doorsteps this instant.”

For a short moment, he listened to Ysabella narrating her tale from yesterday while she and Wakefield attended a luncheon. “She was there, see,” his sister said to Emma. “She was sitting right across from me.”

“Had she a murderous look on her face?”

“No,” Ysabella said with a shake of her head. “As a matter of fact, she was rather pleasant!”

Emma frowned. “I cannot imagine Frances Highmore being pleasant, Ysa. Not after what Benedict did to her.”

“Oh, but she truly was! She inquired after Benedict!”

“And what did you say?”

“Of course, I was cautious. You know that woman. She has the propensity to be a witch behind our back.”

“I believe she merely acted the way she did because Benedict did hurt her in many ways,” Emma noted with a shrug. “We did enjoy matching Agatha and Ben, but we have neglected the fact that we were hurting Frances Highmore as a consequence as well. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned , as what they say.”

“Well,” Ysabella uttered, shifting in her seat with discomfort and guilt, “we were rather impetuous and foolish back then.”

“I hope you did try to apologize?”

“Oh, of course, I did try. But just as I was about to, another surprise came about!”

“What?” Emma asked and Nicholas found himself straining to listen to more of the story.

“Doctor Johannes!”

“Doctor Johannes?” Emma and Nicholas asked in unison.

Ysabella nodded, sparing them both a glance of excitement. “Frances Highmore was escorted by Doctor Johannes! Is it not marvelous! And they both looked in love, Em! I tell you, they did! Isn’t it famous? We indirectly made a match out of them both!”

“How so?” Nicholas incredulously asked.

“Well, if it were not for us, Ben and Agatha would not have ended up together and Frances would be our sister-in-law. But because of our genius, Ben realized his love for Agatha and Frances had taken ill and met Doctor Johannes. I wager that is when their romance started.”

“You are saying that their courtship has been going on for five bloody years,” Nicholas wryly pointed out.

Ysabella blinked. “Well, for some, it can take forever!”

Emma simply shrugged and opened her book to continue reading. “At the very least, Frances Highmore is faring well.”

Nicholas shook his head. “And I would rather not hear more gossips,” he said, standing to his feet. “I hope you two a lovely time in my lonely estate while I am away.”

“But we came here to spend time with you—”

“You came here because Margaret and Cole took the children to Ashmore with our mother,” he cut off. “And your husband is currently busy meeting associates for the harvest season,” he said to Ysabella. “Ralph is nowhere to be seen and Maxwell is refusing to have his wife be bothered at her current state.”

Nicholas cursed under his breath at his last word.

Emma and Ysabella frowned. “What state?”

“Mind not,” he said but his sisters were already on their feet, blocking his path to the door.

“What state is Maxine in?” Ysabella asked.

Emma’s eyes widened when Nicholas averted his gaze. “She’s with child!”

“Bloody hell,” he muttered before he threw his sisters a warning look. “Dare not go to Kenward. Maxwell shall have my head if he finds out that I told you—”

“But he ought to have told us! He denied it last family dinner! Oh, Em, we must hurry to Kenward at once and—”

“You know Maxwell. He will not appreciate meddling!” Nicholas snapped. “Now, dare not go to Kenward.”

“But we want to wish them the best! And you did promise to deposit us at their doorsteps earlier—”

“No, I changed my mind,” he sternly said. “You both shall wait here and drink as much tea as you want until Wakefield comes for you.”

“And where are you going?” Emma asked.

“Rock’oles. Where else?” he said with a grin.

His sisters rolled their eyes. He circled around them and walked to the door. “By the by, Emma,” he said, “Is Mrs. Beagle still missing?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Simply curious.” He lifted a finger of warning at the two women. “Remember, don’t go to Kenward if you wish my head to remain attached to my body.”

“I never realized you have one!” Emma retorted but Nicholas chose to let it slide for once.

He was late for a meeting.

---

Sophia waited while Nicholas read the letter. She did not know what it contained, but she sensed from the way he kept pacing in front of her that he was angry.

“Three women slaves,” he muttered and made a move to crumple the paper but she said, “My lord, please, I will be in trouble if the receiver finds it in less than the condition it is now.”

“I ought to tear it to pieces, Sophie,” he ground out but did as she requested and folded the paper. She held out her hand and placed it to the side when he handed it back to her.

“What did the letter contain?” she asked.

“It is about a proposal for a pick-up point,” he said in a low, angry voice.

She nodded. What was Marcus planning?

“How long do negotiations such as this take?” he asked. She looked up to see his blurry form standing before her, his hands on his waist.

“I cannot say for certain,” she said. “It normally takes ten or more exchanges before a long respite follows.”

“What do you mean?”

“As I have said before, my lord, I do not know the details, but as their messenger, I have learned the pattern. It will usually take ten or more letters before they will stop for quite some time before another begins. I have long supposed that each transaction is different with each interval.”

“And how often do these transactions take place?”

Sophia lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps once a month?”

“Then we ought to catch them this time to save time,” he murmured under his breath.

“We? You said you are not a Town Guard.”

“I am indirectly a Town Guard,” he said. “Those bloody bastards cannot do what I can.”

Sophia chuckled. “Like wooing your way into a chamber in Rock’oles?”

His voice was lighter, etched with his charming tone, as he said, “Yes, of course.”

Sophia’s heart began to hammer against her chest when Nicholas came near and settled beside her in the chaise. He smelled of fresh grass, like of the flowers Marcus would take bring her now and then.

“You smell pleasant,” she noted, clearing her throat to ignore the anticipation building inside her.

“I came from my estate.”

“Whiston?”

“Yes.”

“Of course, Lord Whiston—”

“Dare not call me that.”

“Why?’

“I hate the name.”

She chuckled and was about to ask when he took her hand and gently rubbed the back with his thumb. Her heart raced even faster.

Since he had entered, since they had their fight, she had never expected him to pursue intimacy. But apparently she was wrong.

She could feel that he wanted more out of their arrangement. She could feel it with his touch and his heavy breath beside her. And worse, she found herself relieved.

He still wanted her after all.

Mayhap he was using her, using seduction as a way to do so, but the fact still remained that he desired her. Every part of her felt it as he shifted in the chaise to face her, as he leaned closer, his head lowering toward hers.

“What would you like to do the moment you are free from this place?” he asked in almost a whisper, his breath brushing against her cheek as he nuzzled closer, very lightly teasing the side of her cheek with the tip of his nose and lips.

Sophia swallowed as she closed her eyes. So Nicholas Everard wanted her still after all. And despite everything, despite his so-called mission, he was still planning to get what his carnal desires yearned for. He was not a member of Rock’oles for nothing after all.

“I want to find the brightest place in the Town and look at your face.” Sophia did not realize she had spoken aloud until she felt his smile against her skin. “The lighting in Rock’oles seems not to be enough,” she decided to explain since she had foolishly let her thoughts be spoken aloud anyway.

She fought the flinch that threatened to erupt when his lips playfully traced the side of her mouth, not truly touching her lips, but teasing them.

“Then I promise to take you under a gigantic hole,” he whispered, his breath brushing against her lips and Sophia almost allowed herself to kiss him. “Will you allow me to kiss you then? If I take you to the brightest place in the Town?”

She smiled, placing her hands at the back of his neck as his hands circled around her, unbuttoning her gown. “Deliver your promise and we shall see,” she whispered in his ear. “For now, I wish to continue where we left off the last time.”

He let out a groan before he roughly pulled her toward him and gathered her in his arms. “No deliberate accidents this time, darling,” he rasped, ravishing her neck as he cradled her hips against his, providing her enough evidence of his desire.

Aabha growled but did not move from her corner. Brigid jumped away from the chaise with a purr.

Nicholas expertly stripped her nightgown off her and carried her with ease to the bed where they both tumbled over the covers. She blindly helped him untie his cravat and dispose of his shirt.

Nicholas unfastened his breeches with haste, cursing as his first attempt failed. She did flinch when she heard his boots thud against the floor, but that soon was replaced by a sense of surrender. The feeling surprised her for the feeling was accompanied by a throb of excitement, of stimulating torture as she felt his skin touch hers.

Surrender had been a part of her past, but it was never like this. It never felt as good as this.

Sophia let out a sigh—or perhaps a whimper—as Nicholas’ mouth wetly traveled down her throat and over the peak of one breast where he teased her, tortured her until a keening demand escaped her throat and he suckled and gave her what she wanted.

Brigid purred from under the bed but Sophia barely heard her. Nicholas was allowing her to discover her body by exploring it with his hands, his mouth.

“I swear to all that is holy that bloody cat is Mrs. Beagle, Sophie,” he rasped above her. His hand cupped her face, tilting her head to the side to give him room to worship her neck with his mouth. His other hand roamed down between her legs, causing her to squirm, unsure of what to do despite the fact that she knew what he wanted her to do.

But it seemed that Nicholas did not expect her to do anything. No, his touch was telling her to do as she pleased, to partake—to share.

“I must take her home,” he rasped in her ear as his hand found her and she writhed beneath him, lifting her hips and parting her thighs in surrender.

Her hands clutched his shoulders as she let out a panting breath. “Take who home?” she absently asked, already lost in a different world where she lived with naught but one goal—reach something…whatever it was, she ought to reach it.

“The cat,” he bit out, his hand suddenly leaving her before he settled between her legs.

“She is mine! You are not taking her!”

His forearms rested beside her head as he bent to graze her jaw with his teeth. “Bloody hell, Sophie, let us not talk about the cat.”

“You started talking about the cat, even threatened to take her away, and now—”

His head snapped back and the tip of his nose touched hers. “Talk about the cat one more time and I shall kiss you.”

Sophia closed her lips and then bit her lower lip as she felt the tip of him nudge against her.

“Bloody hell, I did not expect to be doing this tonight,” he gritted out against her cheek, his hands caressing her hips, patiently waiting for her to relax. But she could not relax. Her entire being was on fire and he was delaying the pleasure, torturing her.

“Liar,” she panted and he chuckled.

“For now, darling,” he said before he finally plunged inside her.

Sophia gasped and she almost buckled away from him. The instinct to push him away took over her but as her body was accustomed to such reaction, it was also used to stop it and she froze.

Nicholas froze above her, probably stunned by her reaction.

Sophia hated that she felt ashamed. She hated that she wanted to hide the panic and the fear. She did not want to please him, not when she knew they were merely using each other. But she found that she was unconsciously wanted to. She wanted to be like the other women he bedded. She wanted to prove that she was a woman and she could give him pleasure.

“It is all right,” he whispered softly in her ear. He was not moving and Sophia soon realized that he, in some way, understood what was happening to her. And he was waiting.

She felt tears brimming her eyes so she shut them, urging them to retreat and allow her to deal with this on her own. And she did. She was able to relax, reminding herself that she was in control here as much as Nicholas was.

Because he was letting her.

Because, for whatever reason, he was different.

He was not like the other men of her past.

Nicholas Everard was a lover.

And as she realized it, the pleasant sensation from before returned. Sophia’s lips curved into a smile.

“That’s it, darling,” Nicholas whispered as he began to move. “Just feel.”

Yes, Sophia was feeling. She was feeling many things that opposed many of her memories.

A slight fear flickered inside her but she brushed it aside.

She would deal with it later for at that moment, she was not dealing with Nicholas Everard as a spy for his brother.

In her chaise, he was. But in her bed, he was her first lover.

A/N:

By the by, townspeople, I submitted an entry for the Wattpad Block Party. It is a chapter teaser for the first Trilby story that will follow the Everards. Check them through here:  https://www.wattpad.com/405679737-wattpad-filipino-block-party-2017-greenwriter%27s . I will also be providing the link  in the comment section in case you cannot tap on the link OR you can check out my profile page for the link of the story as I announced it earlier. For now, I  hope you are enjoying Nick’s story. Things will start to pick up very soon!

X. Promises

Nicholas was thoughtful as he dressed himself while Sophia disappeared behind her dressing screen.

Buttoning his shirt, he studied her silhouette with a slight frown.

He was certain that she was not a virgin when he took her, but her reaction had surprised him.

“Why did you freeze?” he heard himself ask without thinking. He silently cursed himself for it.

To his surprise, she did not react to his question in a violent manner. “Whatever do you mean, my lord?” she softly asked, her silhouette freezing in the act of dressing.

“Earlier, you froze.”

A short silence followed and Nicholas thought that perhaps it was at that point where she would fold her dressing screen and haul it across the room with intent to murder.

But she did not do that either. “I was… I never enjoyed sexual encounters before.”

She said it so casually that Nicholas’ jaw dropped as he gaped at her silhouette with surprise. “Even with Durley?” he could not help but ask.

She chuckled but instead of answering she uttered, “As I have said, my lord, I reserve the right not to talk about other men or how I interact or serve them.”

His jaw tightened. He stood up and approached the dressing screen and discovered that she was buttoning her dress with ease. “Sophie, have you been abused?”

This time he saw the anger flash across her features before she shrugged. “It is not of your concern, my lord.”

“Did it happen in the brothel—”

“The brothels have many secrets. Not one of them is worthy of recollection,” she snapped, stiffly turning to walk back to the chaise. “I would appreciate it if you do not resort to talking about the past. Yours may be marvelous, mine is highly unmentionable.”

If her past lovers treated with naught but roughness to a point that she had developed an innate defensive reaction during the act, then why did she allow him to make love to her tonight?

Was it because she wanted to? Or was it because it had become easier for her?

“Then do answer one question for me,” he said, walking over to the winged chair.

“So long as it is not about other men, what is your question?”

“How much can you truly see?”

She smiled. “You are curious, are you not?”

“Very.”

She shrugged, absently playing with her long curly hair. “I merely see light and shadows. I cannot see anything with a mere small amount of light. It has to be very bright.”

Ah, so that explained why she did not discover his cheating when he turned on the bedside lamp. His eyes narrowed at her as she gazed at him as though she could truly see him. “What do you see when you look at my face?”

Her white teeth glowed in contrast to her skin as when she smiled. It was the first she saw her smile that way and his breath was trapped in his lungs. “Shadows,” she uttered with a chuckle.

Nicholas scoffed, shaking his head. “A pity then for I promise you, darling, I am beautiful.”

She laughed and it was impeccably sweet that Nicholas had the urge to come up with a rather witty remark to hear it again.

“And I suppose that you have never seen your face either?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then you are even more so unlucky, Sophie, because you are beautiful.”

“I believe you,” she said, squaring her shoulders with pride. He was not certain if she was mocking him or not.

“You truly are, Sophie. You are beautiful. You do not have to think that just because you are a woman of color that you are beneath a fair woman’s beauty. You truly are beautiful.”

“Calm down. You need not explain for I do believe you,” she laughingly uttered. “I am partially blind, my lord. I only see shadows and light. In my eyes, everyone has none but one color.”

“Can I ask how you are in this condition?”

“No, because it entails that I will have to talk about my past and I have made it clear that I don’t like talking about it.”

He sighed. “Very well, then why do you not mingle with the other ladies in Rock’oles? Or do you? Privately?”

With a shake of her head, she uttered, “They have not seen me nor have I seen them. I do not wish to bother myself with prejudices, my lord. I am rather fond being alone.”

“You speak like my sister.”

“Which one?”

“The youngest, Emma. She does claim to be fond of being alone as well.”

“Then she must be very wise,” she uttered, standing to her feet. “I believe it is time you leave, my lord.”

Nicholas gaped at her for the second time. “I am barely dressed, Sophie. Perhaps you can ring for tea?”

She turned to him and although he now knew the scope of her sight, he still felt unnerved whenever her gaze landed on him. He had always reveled on the attention women gave him, yet it seemed that with this woman he felt uncomfortable, even more so now that he knew she could not clearly see him but still pretended that she could.

There was so much in her he needed to know, so much to discover.

He heard a warning in his head, one that told him to not bother. For why would he? He did not truly intend to rescue her from here. Good God, he would be a laughingstock amongst his friends if he as much as take a woman from Rock’oles and place her under his care. And to know that he would be taking with him a woman of color would even be far worse.

“You have gotten what you wanted in this visit, my lord,” was her impassionate reply.

The words echoed in his mind, igniting a surge of anger within him. But he fought to control it as it would not do him good to even correct her. Yes, he was able to get what he wanted from this visit. He was able to read the letter and he now had something relevant to share to his brother.

And he was able to satisfy his personal needs.

Of course, he acquired more than he intended and that ought to be enough.

But it seemed that it wasn’t.

There was something in this particular chamber, in this particular woman that Nicholas wanted to stay longer because he knew this was not for long. Once the Town Guards had enough to execute their plans, he would have to betray this woman and leave her here. Mayhap the Guards would be lenient and consider her help in the case, but she would have to also pay the price for her role in the slave trade.

And then he would continue to live his life as he always had. There would be more luxurious brothels like Rock’oles. And there would surely be more gorgeous women to satisfy him.

With that thought in mind, Nicholas stood and grabbed his coat. Along the way, he picked up the cravat and tucked it in his coat pocket.

“Good day, my lord,” Sophia uttered with a formal smile as he approached.

“Call me Nick, Sophie,” he said before planting a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Call me Nick.”

She merely smiled in answer and opened the door for him.

---

Sophia woke up in cold sweats again later that night.

But the dream was slightly different from the others.

It was Nicholas Everard, making love to her, caressing her in the gentle way he did earlier that day.

She did not want to wake up. She wanted to live in that dream forever and just feel everything he was making her feel.

But something changed. He bent his head to kiss her breast. His hands tightened on her hips in a crushing hold.

She tried to buck away as his pounding became rougher as his hold tightened even further, pushing her against the mattress, trapping her with his weight and brutal attack.

She groaned, demanding to be released, but he was not listening.

He continued to feast on her breast but this time it was as if he meant to punish her until she cried out in pain. She tried to push him away but she realized her hands were tied above her head.

She screamed in terror and finally Nicholas looked up.

But he was no longer Nicholas.

His face had morphed into one of the men who paid her uncle for a time with her. He had become like the men with their foul smell and broken teeth, eyes alight like the devil’s.

And he was laughing and then he was grunting with release while she stared at him, eyes wide with horror, tears streaming down her face.

Sophia shot up in bed with a scream, breathing heavily, her heart pounding against her chest.

Aabha whined beside her and started to lick her chin. With shaky hands, she petted the dog.

The dreams would never go away, she thought.

They would not even allow her to have new ones.

---

“How is the seduction going?” Ralph asked, pointing his riffle to the right.

Nicholas quietly followed his brother’s movement, focused on following the movement of the hare. “Bloody bad.”

“How so?”

“I told her the truth with the intent to use her and I do not see why we still call it spying.”

Ralph rose to his elbows and glared at him. “It is spying when you lie. You gave her false promises, Nick. You promised her an impossible freedom.” He dropped back on the ground. “That is still considered spying. We call it double spying if you should know. It is easier that way, see?”

The hare finally jumped out of the bush and Ralph fired the shot before Nicholas could. He sighed and cursed under his breath.

“Taking a fancy on the woman?” Levi asked from behind them. He glared at his brother over his shoulder as he straightened to full height while Ralph went off to gather his kill.

“I did not join you here in Standbury to bother with your mocking, gentlemen,” he addressed both men. “I was given the impression that I will be spending a jolly time hunting in your very quaint forest, Levi, not talk about women.”

His brother chuckled as he too, picked up two hares from the ground. “Well, if you say so. Come on then, Tori and Lindsay are waiting for our return.”

Ralph ran after them and fell into pace with Nicholas with a mocking grin.

Nicholas glared at Ralph. “I admit the woman is beautiful and that she is different—”

“—And we agree that we are not implying anything,” Levi said with a chuckle.

“—But she is a woman like the others. She is replaceable,” he continued, ignoring his brother’s remark.

Ralph shot him a suspicious look before saying, “Then bloody make her believe you are the irreplaceable one to a point that she shall do anything you ask of her. One letter does not prove your success, brother.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened. “I am currently working on that, believe me.”

“Do not fall in love with the woman, Nick,” Levi said, his tone serious. “We do not want to have anything to do with anyone connected to Osegod. God knows what Margaret will do this time.”

He fell silent, reminded of Aurora and what Margaret did to her.

And then he thought of Sophia.

Sophia was beautiful. And she was a giving lover and he knew she could be better if he simply knew how to keep her calm and forget the other men before him. But he cannot fall in love with her.

Not when greater things were at stake.

---

Sophia watched Nicholas undress while she waited in the middle of the bed, all the while calming herself.

She did not know why she felt tears coming. Mayhap because she knew she would allow herself to be vulnerable in his arms again and she wanted it.

For years, her body and mind had been naught but cautious. She had worked with men who came to her out of selfish reasons. And although the wall she had built around her was too strong for even a man like Nicholas Everard to ever break, Sophia felt uncomfortable that with him she could willingly allow herself to climb over that wall and be plain helpless.

Was this what they called seduction?

Was she falling victim to it?

Was this why men who had mindlessly taken her in the past did what they did? Did they also find the need to feed their lust as means to sanity?

It had nearly been a week since his last visit. She waited and wondered when he would return for they had not agreed on it the last time. The moment she was informed of his presence in Rock’oles, she called for him immediately.

And when he entered the room, it seemed that he had merely one thing in mind and that was to take her to bed.

He attacked her savagely against the door, stripping her of her dress and gave her a taste of pleasure with naught but his hands and mouth. Sophia found it unbelievable still that a man was willing to prolong the process when he could easily be done with it without care if she was pleasured in return.

She had a wistful smile on her lips, one she immediately tried to hide as his form turned toward her.

Her heart began to pound when he approached the bed.

“I need to have a letter from Osegod,” he said as he joined her and covered her body with his.

Sophia let out a satisfied sigh when his hands began to roam over her, softly caressing and arousing her entire being, rekindling the fire he started earlier. “Well, hello, there, my lord,” she teased, raking her fingers through his hair. “I was afraid you were not interested with letters.”

“Of course, I am,” he said, his lips smiling against her skin. “But I have missed you, see? I missed you when I was hunting with my brothers, I missed you while I was in the carriage, in my estate and even now.”

“You flatter me so. Truly, you ought not. Not because I think I do not deserve it, of course, because I do, but because I simply find it a bother. I do not know how to respond.”

“Simple. You tell me you missed me too.”

“My lord—”

“Nick.”

She swallowed when his hand slipped between her legs. “Nick,” she tried, smiling at the sound of his name in her voice, “He never comes.”

“Are we talking about another lover?” he asked, voice filled with jesting mirth.

She was confused at first but when she realized what he meant, she gave his arm a slap. “I meant Osegod, you libertine!”

“And you consider yourself prude?”

She gasped as he teased her with his hand.

“He relays his messages through Lord Cigar.”

“Baldwin?” he asked against her throat.

She nodded. “And I have not yet had a visit from him. Perhaps in—”

“Sophie,” he interjected, settling between her legs and circling an arm around her while the other brushed her hair off her forehead. He nuzzled his nose beside hers and his lips lightly touched hers as he continued, “Would you like to go out for a while?”

His question gave Sophia pause, lost at the sudden change of subject. “Go out?”

“Yes, sweet,” he whispered, slowing entering her. Sophia let out a soft gasp with pleasure, reveling at the fact that her body did not freeze, nor had it had any desire to push him away. “Go out for a while. Out of this chamber.”

“Nick,” she whispered almost in pain as he tortured her with slow deliberate strokes. “Please…”

“Wickhurst enjoys humongous woods,” he continued, his hand caressing her breast, her midriff, her back, her hips. “We will not be seen. You will not be seen. And I shall return you here before they find out.”

Sophia swallowed, already whimpering with pleasure.

“Do you not trust me? Do you not trust that I will take you back?”

No, her mind answered. But she knew he would take her back. He did not get enough information from her. He needed more letters.

“Yes,” she answered, panting with anticipation at what he was doing and what she wanted to do.

“Yes you trust me,” he asked, keeping still inside her. “Or yes we shall go to the woods?”

Sophia slipped her hand down to the small of his back. “Both.”

XI. Dancing Lights

For a reason unbeknownst to Sophia, Nicholas had managed to seduce her not merely in bed but also beyond it.

Never had she imagined she would be leading him through the secret corridor, past Marcus’ study, her face half-covered with a cloak. It was rebellious. It was exciting. It was everything not expected of her.

The guard who came alert when they walked out of the secret exit at the other side of Rock’oles stuttered in panic when she announced that she was leaving with Lord Whiston for a stroll .

“I have Lord Durley’s permission.”

“But you cannot-”

“I have taken strolls in the past,” she snapped, turning her head to the right where the guard’s voice came from. There was barely enough light for her to see. “You are new here.”

“No, Miss, I have been here three years!”

Drat it. Sophia’s jaw tightened. “Then why have I not seen you before?”

“I-I was posted somewhere else months ago-”

“Ah, there you have it then. I cannot blame you for your arrogance. You may go and have a word with Lord Durley if you are unsure.” She was certain Marcus was not around for the man to question.

“I cannot allow you to leave without a pass, Miss. Perhaps I will have a word with Mr. Mast.”

“We are out for a stroll, lad,” Nicholas impatiently snapped beside Sophia. “I would appreciate it if you accept this as our way of gratitude for keeping a blind eye.” She saw Nicholas’ shadowy form move to hand over something to the guard. “Is fifty townsend enough?”

“Y-yes, but-”

“A hundred then,” Nicholas said and Sophia heard the rustling sound of paper.

“Now, if you will please turn around and pretend to be busy stopping an unknown lord from entering through this door, we shall be on our way.”

“And hope that Lord Durley never has to find out about this certain lord ,” Sophia insisted. “But should you find a need to tell him then do so with a straight face.”

“B-but what if they look for-”

“No one shall be looking for me,” Sophia snapped. “I have already given heed of my early bedtime.”

The guard struggled for a moment. “Merely a stroll?” he asked.

“Yes. Fret not, Miss Sophia shall be returned before anyone learns of her absence.”

As she felt the man’s resistance ebb away, Sophia felt hers seeping in. Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. But she had had made it this far. And she had never been this far away from her chamber for seven years.

Suddenly the overwhelming sense of freedom scared her inhibitions away.

Nicholas took her hand and guided her away from the guard.

“Have you truly had strolls before?” he whispered beside her.

“No, of course not. I lied.”

He chuckled as he circled his arm around her to keep her close. “You lie quite easily, Miss Sophia.”

“And you bribe people with ease, my lord.”

“We are quite a pair, are we not?” he asked, his voice laced with wickedness.

Sophia simply smiled. A small voice in her head was telling her to go back and avoid Marcus’ wrath should he find out. But then a stronger one was telling her to move along.

“That guard is easily provoked,” he commented as they walked further away.

“Rock’oles is not a prison, my lord. The women can come and go as they please so long as they acquire a pass from Mr. Mast.”

“Those bastards make it hell for the gentlemen,” he retorted.

“Well, of course. It is the men they are paid to protect us from after all.”

“You say that Durley, whoever he is, sees the women with far more importance than the men who bring him the money?”

“No women, no men, my lord,” was her curt reply.

“Hmm, you might as well be correct.” His hand tightened around her. “If we hurry, we can still catch the glimpse of sunlight,” Nicholas said, stopping her and pulling her aside.

The sound of the carriage approached.

Oh God, she was riding away from Rock’oles.

“I must return,” she hurriedly told him. “Later, you must take me back. Understand?” she reiterated.

Nicholas planted a kiss on her temple. “Of course, darling.”

---

“Have you truly not been in a place like this?” he asked hours later.

Sophia’s senses were too overwhelmed. There were too many things to stare at, too many moving shadows and dancing lights.

She looked up and found a warm light hovering above them.

“There are three gigantic holes in these woods,” he explained, taking her hand. “Dusk is approaching aboveground.”

“Dusk…”

“Sunset. It is when the sun sets aboveground that creates the light you see. It will later turn into moonlight, see?”

It was golden. And it was wonderful.

Sophia stared with eyes wide open, wishing she could widen them even further. She took a deep breath, breathing in fresh air and scents unfamiliar yet also flickered something in her memory. Perhaps she had been under a hole in her past. Perhaps she had enjoyed sunlight and moonlight before.

Her head snapped in different directions, feeling a sense of panic. She had to see everything she could, feel everything she could before the time was up and the light disappeared.

The lights danced and twinkled as the leaves of the trees around them moved with the air.

Her eyes stung but she fought the tears for it would merely blur the images.

“Have you truly not been in the woods?” Nicholas repeated with a chuckle when she reached out to touch the nearest tree trunk, feeling its roughness and storing it to memory.

“I don’t know,” she absently answered, turning and searching the sound of the rushing water. “Where is that?”

It was too late when she realized what she said. Sophia made a sudden turn to escape more of Nicholas’ question but pretending to find the source of the sound. “I hear water.”

“Sophie, what do you mean you don’t know?” he asked, grabbing her wrist, gently pulling her back toward him.

“I don’t remember,” she snapped, looking about. “Now, please, stop asking questions about the past. Where is that sound coming from?”

“It’s the stream,” he replied after a while, guiding her around. “It supplies water to most of Wickhurst and nearby estates.”

She drew a breath of wonder. “Including Rock’oles?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

He guided her through a rough path, stopping to warn her every now and then when a slope or an inclination was ahead. Once she heard tweeting sounds and he explained they were birds. She tried to find it but merely saw shadows flying above them.

Finally they reached the stream. The water, the light and the speed of the shadows, as they moved down into an endless flow mystified her. “It is incredible,” she breathed with a sigh.

Because it was bare of trees, the light from the hole above shone and reflected on the stream. She turned to Nicholas and said, “I want to see more of you.”

“My face or my entirety?” he asked with a playful tone.

She muffled a laugh and pushed him toward the direction of the light. “Your face, my lord.”

“I do not want to blind you even further with my beauty, Sophie,” he warned. “I am telling you, the sight of me is blinding.”

Sophia bit back a laugh as she eagerly watched him step into the light.

Her smile widened as she saw more of him. The shadows gained more edge, the light shining on high points. She saw the size of his eyes, his lips, his nose and the square edges of his jaw. But then she still could not see more of him and it was with utter disappointment that she asked, “What color is your hair? Is it black?”

“Yes,” he replied, amusement in his voice.

Squinting, she nodded. “And your eyes?”

“Green.”

She stored the word in her memory. When the time came that she was to regain her memory and remember what most colors looked like, she would want to go back to this picture of Nicholas Everard standing under the warm light as shadows of water rushed behind him. She would close her eyes and remember how his hair blew gently with the wind, the trees behind him in symphony with everything else, and the golden light spread glowing around him.

“I have never thought I could find pleasure,” she softly said, unable to stop herself. “I never thought I would ever believe in passion until you came through my doors, Nicholas Everard.” She looked around her, noting how the light was slowly fading away. Nighttime was upon them. “And I never truly knew joy until this moment. I never thought it would be so… profound.”

The silence that followed between them was replaced by the music of everything else around. She felt not a tinge of regret or embarrassment for having said the words she said. Things would not end well for both of them and Sophia thought it was merely reasonable to allow herself that moment of truth.

“Sophie,” he started but she stopped him by holding up her hand.

“I said those words because I wanted to, not because I require a response.” She walked over to him and said, “Now, would you please escort me near the water? I wish to experience it.”

---

Marcus was already waiting for her when she slipped through the secret door to her chamber, the hem of her dress damp after dipping into the stream earlier. Suddenly the music-of Nicholas’ laughter as he told her of how his sisters climbed a tree and could not manage to go down later, the memory of the trees whispering around her, the sound of the stream as it rushed against her legs-all disappeared and replaced by dread.

Was it too late to ask the traitorous guard to return the hundred townsends?

“Where have you been?” Marcus’ tone was low but deadly.

Sophia swallowed and moistened her lips. She stared straight at Marcus’ form in the winged chair. “I went for a stroll with Lord Whiston.”

“A stroll.” There was not a hint that he believed her.

“In the woods,” she clarified, feigning indifference. “I was not aware I cannot venture away from Rock’oles, Marcus.”

“You are proving how foolish women of your station are, Sophia.”

She clenched her hands at her sides. “If it is foolish to want to experience the woods for the first time, then perhaps I am.”

“Are you bloody insane!” he bellowed, fury echoing around her chamber. Aabha barked from one corner. Marcus jumped to his feet and stormed toward her. “Do you know the risks you took walking out of Rock’oles for a stroll with Whiston! He could have been planning something”

“It was merely for a few hours, Marcus, and he delivered his promise to take me back-”

The rest of her words were snatched from her as Marcus roughly grabbed her arm. He gave her a shake as he said, “He is planning something. “ The weight of his words killed the rebellious fire inside her. All of a sudden she remembered why she was here-why she was doing this. “You cannot disobey me again, do you understand?”

Her nostrils flared with ire. The rebellion was short-lived, but the anger was slow to dissipate. “Yes.”

Marcus stared at her for a long time before he loosened his grip. “I am disappointed in you.”

She merely looked away to hide the tear that rolled down the side of her face.

“Don’t ever do it again.”

She nodded.

“Did he ask for more letters?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell him to wait. Another one shall arrive in five days.”

Sophia blinked away the tears and nodded.

“Don’t turn soft on Nicholas Everard, Sophia. He is not the man who can give you what you need. I am.”

Something clenched inside her chest and she nodded. “I know.”

Without another word, Marcus left her alone in her chamber.

Sophia rushed to her bed and was joined by Brigid and Aabha, where cried until she fell asleep.

---

The trip to the woods did not merely put Nicholas in a good light, but he also believed that Sophia was starting to trust him with each visit.

Another letter arrived five days after their short excursion in the woods and it provided Nicholas of more information about the movements of the slave trade. Three women were being made ready for an exchange.

But when would the exchange happen? Where?

Sophia told him to be patient, one he willingly obliged by spending more time with her in and out of bed.

They talked often of his travels. Nicholas did most of the talking but he merely did not talk for he also had to describe to her in detail everything he saw, from the strangest to the most wonderful ones.

And she listened with attentiveness and with each passing day her eyes disproved his first impression. They were not blank-they were merely empty of things to show. And he showed her many things to fill the void of her gaze, finding great fulfillment when they glimmered with wonder and awe.

Nicholas did not spare Sophia of things he would give his past lovers either. He showered her with gifts, most of them Everard jewelries. But she found no greater amazement in them as she did with the samples of far more inferior things he took from Wickhurst, things she had always been curious about but never had the chance to see or experience-things such as tokens, the most raved about things amongst townspeople. Tokens with pictures or paintings of someone’s eyes, lips or hands were commonly carried or worn by almost everyone to remind them of a loved one. She also particularly loved the chocolate biscuits his housekeeper and cook, Fanny, baked one afternoon which, to Nicholas’ opinion, could never taste worse. Things like soft laces, cards and even a board game of chess fascinated her best. And although she could hardly figure out the pieces of the game, she still managed to threaten his ability, proving to Nicholas that she was not one stupid lady.

With each visit, Nicholas found himself lost in showering her with attention and even showing affection which he rarely felt the urge to do with his lovers. Perhaps it was his desperation to win her loyalty and trust that pushed him, or mayhap it was the desire to keep the glimmer in her pale olive eyes that drove him to do things that would have caused his brothers roll on the floor in mocking laughter.

He also told her about the ruckus, or lack thereof, in his household. How his butler had drastically changed after he married the chambermaid who was now pregnant. He told her about the scullery maid resigning from her post, making him utterly short of staff.

Of all the things they shared, he had to admit that what he actually allowed himself to do and enjoy was dance with her.

“I have never danced before,” she had admitted, looking almost horrified when he suggested it during a boring moment after making love for hours in her chaise.

“I am a good teacher, Sophie.” And he did teach her.

And she was tremendously bad at it. She lacked the talent, her orientation to tune and steps incredibly horrible.

Yet she tried and he enjoyed it when she laughed whenever he surprised her with a twirl or a spin.

Once she tripped and they both ended up tumbling on the floor. To his utter surprise much later while he was on his way home to Whiston, he remembered feeling a sense of panic when he thought she was hurt.

And it was not good.

But then something far worse made him feel bad. It was when she stared at him after the fall and her eyes were still filled with mirth, saying, “I wish I will never have to make you go away in the future, Nick.”

XII. Change of Plans

“They argue too much about the exchange,” Nicholas uttered with contempt as he laid the letter on the table.

“One can only assume that business is a very complicated matter,” said Sophia, “legal or otherwise.”

“I need names, Sophie,” he said. “I want to know who these men are. Baldwin is too bloody evasive. We need to catch at least one of these men on the act.”

She merely held her silence. What was she to say?

“One name, one act and the Guards can have proper ground to detain and interrogate.”

“I am afraid I do not know these men, Nick. They are too careful. There is no way I can know and not face consequences.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh, joining her in the chaise. “A fortnight. The exchange shall happen within a fortnight and yet they have not yet decided on a place.”

“I believe another letter shall be delivered before the fortnight is over. Fret not. These men will eventually come upon an agreement. Money is at stake, after all.”

He scoffed. “No one would lift a finger if the exchange involves goods, but the thought of living humans being traded in such a manner makes my stomach churn in the worst possible ways.”

“You care for these slaves.” She was surprised by her own statement and regretted it the very moment they slipped out her tongue. She merely opened an entirely dangerous topic.

“Of course. No one wishes to be forced to do labor without pay and freedom.”

“Slavery is not often forced, my lord. For some, it is a willing choice. They are made to depend on naught but their masters.”

She waited for his response. Or his question. It was the perfect time for him to do so after all. Was she too dependent on Marcus then? Was that why she was willingly doing what he wanted?

But the question never came although Sophia was quite certain Nicholas was dying to ask it.

If only I can tell you, Nick, she spoke in the silence of her mind.

“What do you wish to do?”

His question, mixed with his usual charming demeanor did not surprise her. In the weeks they had been together, she had grown to learn that it was his way to avoid a dire subject. He was not one who could handle too much pressure, too much stress. And this case was doing just that.

His visits to her chamber served two purposes in Sophia’s understanding. One was to spy on Marcus, the other to relieve himself of the consternations brought about by the first. And it was through her.

“I would love for you to read for me,” she said with a smile.

“Again?”

Sophia nodded. “You left off at the most exciting part,” she eagerly stated as she picked up the book from the table and handed it to his ready hands.

“Very well,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “But you will have to pay for my services later.”

Sophia stifled a laugh. “Gladly.”

Very much later, after Nicholas snapped the book close just as when the prince and his horse were facing a dozen evil and sneering bandits, he reached for her and started to make love, making Sophia forget the anticipation she felt about the prince rescuing his maiden, replacing it with a different sort of anticipation, one she felt only in his arms.

What Sophia did not realize though was that she fell asleep after an exhausting and deliciously torturous time in bed.

She was no longer in the same bed she shared with Nicholas. She was not in the confines of her elegant chamber in Rock’oles.

She was transported back to that night when she first opened her eyes through the intense pain.

“I see yer awake,” her uncle’s voice said.

“Mama…” Sophia mumbled, calling someone without a face—someone she knew she ought to know but didn’t. “Mama!”

“Sophie. Sophie,” someone was saying. “Sophia, open your eyes, darling.”

She shook her head. The pain was too much.

“Mama…”

“Sophie!”

Sophia opened her eyes and found a shadow hovering over her.

She screamed and pushed with her hands. “Bloody hell!”

Sophia scrambled out of bed as Aabha jumped on the man, intent to attack, and started to bark.

“Bloody hell!” Nicholas screamed again.

It was only then that Sophia realized what was happening.

“Aabha! Stop!” she cried out. Sophia kneeled beside the bed and held out her hand. Aabha’s white form was atop Nicholas, growling at him. “Shhh… it is okay, Aabha. It is okay,” she gently said, reaching for the dog. “Keep still, my lord,” she ordered to Nicholas. “Aabha, come here, darling.”

Aabha hesitated but eventually turned away from Nicholas and joined her on the floor. “Good girl,” she whispered, petting the dog’s head. “Stay away, Brigid, the show is over,” she ordered the black cat which was slowly making its way toward them. It slipped under the bed and disappeared. Aabha joined it a moment later.

“Bloody hell, Sophie,” Nicholas gasped from the center of the bed. “What the bloody hell happened?”

“A nightmare,” she simply said, standing to her feet. “I will ring for tea,” she nonchalantly uttered. “Then perhaps you can read to me what happens to the bandits and the prince.”

---

“And you say that she had never allowed herself to fall asleep before?” Ralph asked.

“Yes.”

“And you believe that having fallen asleep now and experiencing a nightmare is an improvement?” his brother droned, lacing his words with sarcasm.

“Well, of course. I assume that the nightmares must be the reason why she never wanted for us to share a nap together.”

Ralph groaned. “You have been spending too much time with our sisters, brother. You are romanticizing nightmares!”

Nicholas tightened his jaw. Perhaps Ralph was correct. What he just said mirrored what Ysabella or Emma would have said.

“And you are utterly certain the exchange shall happen within a fortnight?”

“It was what was written on the paper. I know how to read, brother.”

Ralph nodded. “Then the Guards shall be there. And they will be there?”

“It was stipulated that the receiver will be there to inspect the slaves with his own eyes and the other to inspect the money.”

A glint of excitement flashed before Ralph’s eyes. “Then we will be there to catch them.”

A long silence followed before Ralph looked at Nicholas and asked, “What do you intend to do with the woman if this exchange turns into our favor?”

Nicholas shrugged. “I shall forget her, of course. It will be fairly easy. Rock’oles is not the only place there is.”

Ralph chuckled. “I am quite certain you have already done your best to ensure she will never forget you.”

He sneered. “No woman forgets Nicholas Everard, brother.”

Ralph cocked a brow. “Have you made her fall in love with you then? Besotted at the very least?”

He shrugged. “How the bloody hell would I know?”

“Then are you in love with her?”

Nicholas stiffened and a sudden rush of anger surged inside him upon his brother’s mocking tone. “I never fall in love with my lovers, Ralph. I am not a fool as you believe me to be. The moment this case of yours is over, I can willingly end my visits to that bloody chamber. I will never look back. Just wait and witness it for yourself.”

Ralph stared at him for a very long time. His brother’s intense emerald eyes inched into his, dissecting his very thoughts like a bloody Town Guard that he truly was. “Bloody hell, Nick. You are in love with the woman!”

Nicholas gritted his teeth and reached for his wine. Where the bloody hell was the brandy? He ignored Ralph’s gaping face from across his study table, intent on providing the painting on the opposite wall its well-deserved attention.

Ralph was still gawking a long time later.

Nicholas swallowed the rest of his drink and stood up to pour himself his strongest brandy. He returned to his chair behind the table and Ralph was still gawking.

He emptied his glass and his brother was still gawking.

Ralph’s voice kept ringing in his voice. Bloody hell, Nick. You are in love with the woman!

Bloody hell indeed.

Finally, he turned to his brother’s still gawking face. “I believe I almost am,” he groaned. “And if you do not wish me to make a fool of myself, you will solve this bloody case at once.”

---

“And he took her to Tiny Town and she allowed it?” Sophia asked with awe.

“Well, she did try to put some sense into him but Max would not have it.”

Sophia started to chuckle and then her shoulders shook with laughter.

“What is funny about it?” Nicholas asked with a frown.

“Well, you did not even notice your valet was a woman. I can only imagine how you must have reacted.”

His jaw tightened and he scoffed. Then he sighed and laid his head back on her lap. “I am afraid I can be very gullible.”

“You? Gullible?”

“I could have used the word innocent but that is quite farfetched, yes?”

Sophia’s fingers absently played with his hair. “Yes. Of course.” He took one hand and placed it against his cheek, enjoying its warmth. Clasping it with his, he turned his head to give her inner wrist a kiss. “Was everything said in the Herald about Ysabella true?”

He gasped in mock surprise. “Am I to think that the Herald is too great that even you have managed to read it?” he asked in jest.

She chuckled. “No, but my visitors were merely glad to read me anything to pass the time. Some of them, at the very least.”

Nicholas sighed as he played with her fingers. “Yes, she did almost everything mentioned on the Herald.”

“You must have all felt scandalized.”

“Everything Ysa and Emma did have always been a scandal—Herald or without.”

“Truly?”

“Of course!”

“In what way were they a scandal?”

“For one, they managed to do many things out of norm. They are friends with bandits but you cannot speak of it to anyone. They have played matchmakers to Ben and his wife, Levi and Victoria and countless servants—even one of the Haverstons!”

She gasped in surprise. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly.”

“And they never thought of making you one of their subjects?”

Nicholas growled. “Once.”

“And they failed?”

“Seeing how I am here, that entails they did—miserably.”

“Many who come here are married or are betrothed, my lord.”

“Well, I am not. And I do not intend to wench myself should I be married or betrothed.”

“Truly?” she asked, her tone filled with doubt.

“I am witness to how a good marriage is, Sophie. I would dare not insult my mother and sisters by betraying my wife—or future one.” As he said it, he saw the warm smile form on her lips.

“You are a sweet man, Nicholas Everard.” She pulled her hand free from his grasp and cupped his face. She looked down and narrowed her eyes at him. Nicholas knew she was trying to see more of him. “I wonder what truly happened? Why did the twins fail? Surely a woman would want to have you?”

Nicholas battled for a moment whether or not he ought to tell her about Aurora. But perhaps he needed someone else to tell. “I was not fond of her in a romantic way and there would have been no chance for me to ever consider her as a wife, but she was beautiful.”

“And?” she coaxed.

He let the silence linger for a few seconds. “She was leading a double life.”

Sophia frowned. “A double life?”

“She was hiding from someone else, someone who wanted her badly for bad reasons.” She did not ask who but Nicholas told her anyway. “Osegod. She was Osegod’s mistress.”

Sophia stiffened.

“Aurora had been hiding from him to protect her child. She bore him a child but it was…” he could not truly utter the words for he could still feel the bitter taste of it. He could not surmise why the child’s condition had to matter, really. “It was not a perfect child. That is all I can say.”

When she did not say anything, he took her hand again. “None of us knew. She was Ysa and Emma’s friend. But she did things she ought not to. Perhaps because she thought it was the only way to preserve herself and her child but we could truly never know for she disappeared.”

“How so?”

He shrugged. He was in no authority to tell her about what the League of Founders had done or his sister’s role in it. “All I can tell you is that she is in safe hands but I fear it shall not be for long.”

“Oh, Nick…”

“I believe Aurora is one of the reasons why Osegod is after my family. Perhaps he knew we were associated with her and he must suspect we had something to do with why she disappeared again.”

“Why is he so intent on looking for this woman? Surely he could find a way to settle matters the way most lords with bastards do.”

“As I have said, Sophie, the child is not like many others. Should anyone know about it, Osegod’s reputation will be ruined. No one would want to have someone with bad blood lead them. That is how society works. At this point, Osegod cannot allow it to happen for he has many other plans far bigger than we can all imagine. If he will be thrown out of power, everything will fall apart for him.” His grip around her hand tightened. “He has been after us ever since. The only way we can stop him is cracking this slavery case. It ought to be enough to stop him and his plans.”

Sophia did not say a word for a long time.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That your family is fortunate to have you, a rake willing to sacrifice his innocence to help them.” She smiled at her own quip. “And you are very lucky to have a great family.”

“You will not have the same awe when you meet them, Sophie. They will smother you with their ecstatic blabbers and incessant coddling for that is truly how I foresee they shall treat you—like a babe.”

“Because I am different? They will coddle me to protect me like they did your sister-in-law, Agatha?”

“No, my dear,” he said, shaking his head. “We do not coddle anyone simply to protect them. We coddle because we cherish.”

Her nose flared and he could see many different emotions play in her eyes. “It would be a pleasure to serve them.”

Nicholas stiffened, staring at her incredulously. “Why would you bloody want to serve us?”

Sophia shrugged. “That is the only way I know I can—”

Nicholas jumped off to a sitting position and glared at her. “I will make a lady out of you, Sophie—no, do not wear that horrified look.” But she still looked horrified—mortified by his statement. “Do not tell me you have no idea, woman. Why do you think I keep coming here?”

“For the case, of course—the letters.”

“The case! The letters! Of course, how very stupid of me,” he spat out. “There is none today so why the bloody hell am I here?”

He saw her jaw tighten. “I—you—we—well, you also want to copulate.”

Something very intense enveloped Nicholas. Anger, frustration, desperation—all of them wove around him. He grasped her shoulders and forced her to face him— see him. “I come here to see you and be with you. I come here because I want Durley and the others in prison so you can be free and I can make you mine.”

Sophia snapped her head at him. “You want me to believe a fantasy, my lord. It is not helping. You promised merely to free me from here and deposit me where I can be safe. There was no talk about keeping me and I never assumed such. And why would you keep me? No lord keeps a colored woman for their mistress. I may not be worldly, my lord, but I know such facts.”

“Deposit you? What other atrocious terms do you keep in that pretty head of yours?” He gave her a shake. “I don’t intend to make you my mistress, Sophia. I intend to make you mine. As in my wife.”

His past lovers would have swooned at his feet, went limp with intense happiness. But Sophia did not. She laughed at him. “Do speak not of foolish things, Nick. Now, stop it. I do not wish to discuss marriage or other arrangements closely related to it.”

Nicholas frowned. Had he made her think this way? No, men like you made her think this way, a voice whispered in his head.

He jumped out of the chaise and cursed under his breath. “This talk is not over. I shall return by the morrow. And I shall because I want to and I need to.”

Sophia remained mute with a patient smile on her lips. He wanted to shake her again, make her believe he was telling the truth, make her lose that calm demeanor and simply…simply believe him.

Bloody hell. How did the tables turn on him? He was the one who was starting to believe in the fantasy he created.

---

“Why was Whiston here today? I was not aware that you had arranged for a meeting.”

“He came here. What was I supposed to do? Push him away? You would not want that, would you?” Sophia snapped. She was feeling irritated by Marcus’ mere presence and she knew she ought not to. It was because of Nicholas and his earlier words.

She must not to believe him—could not believe him. He was weaving lies to control her and she believed it. But that did not discount the fact that her heart swelled with longing at his words. A woman could dream after all.

But she was not like many women.

“Did he say the Guards will be at the exchange?”

She nodded. “That is the plan.”

Marcus sighed with relief. “Very good,” he stated with satisfaction. “They will find nothing.”

Sophia froze. “What do you mean.”

“No slaves, my dear.”

Her heart began to hammer in her chest. “What then?”

“An ambush.”

XIII. Happiness

Sophia felt as though the ground above them collapsed upon her. Her face paled and her breath caught in her throat. She frantically jumped to her feet, no longer hiding the panic she felt inside her. “I was not told of this plan.”

Marcus’ form turned toward her. His head tilted to the right telling Sophia he was assessing her with great confusion. “You were never part of the planning, Sophia.” His voice was soft and gentle. He did not want her to take offense, but the fact that he was being careful to care for her feelings angered her further.

Her hands balled into fists and her voice shook with emotion. “We were merely supposed to know the extent of what the Guards know, Marcus. You wanted to know to pave the way for your goals. There was no talk of harming anyone.”

Suddenly the air between them grew far beyond tension. She could feel the anger simmering inside him as he stepped closer and peered at her. “Have you allowed yourself to be taken to bed by that man, Sophia?”

Her jaw twitched. “What did you expect me to do, Marcus? Seduce him to boredom?”

Suddenly his hand grasped her upper arm and he pulled her toward him none too gently. “You are proving to me that you are your mother’s daughter,” he rasped above her.

She pushed him away and he let her. “Who ordered that I take Nicholas Everard into my chamber?” she cried out, a tear falling down her face. “He was never supposed to be allowed entry in my chamber, Marcus, but you told me to open my door and I did. He is not like the others and he is not like you. He expected more and I was not ready to simply let him walk away. I had to do what he expected me to do to serve my purpose to you!”

Marcus was silent for a very long time. “You are acting like a horribly infatuated whore.”

All reasons wanted to erupt within her but she held them together. There was no use arguing with with extreme anger where Marcus was concerned. Instead of bursting out, she held up her chin and glared at him as if she could see into his very soul. “Then mayhap I am and I do not like this plan of yours! It is foolish!”

“You promised to obey me at all cost,” he reminded her. “I took you under my care, Sophia, despite everything. Do not make me regret it.”

He stormed out of her chamber, leaving Sophia in a state of silent panic.

---

When Nicholas came for another visit the very next day, Sophia was surprised to find him with a bundle of what seemed like plants.

“What are those?” she asked, taking in the fresh scent slowly enveloping the chamber.

She hoped she did not sound too ecstatic. She was wary to let her guard down after their odd conversation last time and the argument with Marcus, moreover after what she learned about Marcus’ plans.

“Flowers, of course,” Nicholas said, walking toward her. “I happen to grow a few in Whiston. Here, take them.”

He thrust the bundle into her arms and Sophia instinctively bent down to smell them. Her hand lightly hovered over to feel the flowers. With delicate touch of her fingers, she felt for the shapes of the petals. They were not all the same.

“Wild flowers,” he explained in a nonchalant tone, taking a seat in the winged chair. He started to untie his cravat. “Have I told you that Ysabella used to deliver a flower in Wakefield’s residence every Friday for two bloody years?”

She looked up with an amused smile. “I am not surprised.”

“And never did he bother to come down and receive one in person.”

Her lips twitched.

“My blood is still boiling at the thought of it.”

“Her efforts were returned, I assume?”

“I have no bloody idea but that bastard seems to make her adequately happy if not excessively.”

Sophia bent down to smell the flowers again, closing her eyes to imagine what they looked like. But all she could picture were the shadows of the plants she saw in the woods. Were they the same? Or were they different?

“You are smelling a yellow flower which I am afraid I do not know the name of. Its petals are thin and layered above one another. The center is white. It is a pretty one.”

This time Sophia could not hold back her smile. “Thank you.”

“There are ten different ones at the very least and—”

“Perhaps we shall have more time to discuss their shapes later,” she said, placing the bundle beside her. “Have you talked to your brother?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh, standing to his fee to join her beside the chaise. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and he leaned back and stretched his legs in front. He seemed tired. “You have not made me fall asleep last night, Sophie. I am too bloody tired. No woman has ever had such effect on me in my thoughts.”

Sophia lifted one hand to rest on his cheek. “What are his plans?”

“Who?”

“Your brother, Ralph.”

“I do not wish to talk about his plans, Sophie. I’d rather we talk about your plans. And besides, I do not know of their every move. I may have helped Ralph and the Guards, but they do not tell me everything.”

Sophia held her breath beside Nicholas.

“I simply pray that the Guards will be able to catch one of the men in that exchange. Just one man that is within the inner circle of the trade and everything will be spilled. The Guards know many ways on how to make a man talk, I believe.”

She stayed quiet, her mind reeling with what to do. It was not a question that she ought to save Nicholas’ brother and the Guards, but the how was what was making her think. Telling Nicholas about the ambush could lead to many altercations. She did not want to be forced to tell him everything for if she did, everything Marcus had worked for in the past shall crumble.

She could never let that happen. She could never let Marcus fall, not when he was too close.

“Well, have you packed your things yet?” Nicholas teased beside her, back to his playful self.

Sophia simply shook her head.

He turned to face her. “Does that mean you have not packed or is that your way of showing you find my question incredulous?”

She cupped his face with her hand and planted a light kiss on his cheek. “It means I do not know how to handle you, Nicholas Everard.”

He laughed and it was music to her ears. Sometimes when he would laugh like that, she found herself thinking that she would rather spend her entire life listening to his laughter, to his words, his tales than see him. It was in moments such as this that Sophia felt she need not see. Nicholas Everard had the ability to show her what she could not.

“You doubt me,” he softly said a moment later as he took her hand from his face to clasp between his strong ones.

“I reserve the right to do so, Nick.”

“Have your life been horribly difficult that you cannot trust anyone but yourself?”

She refused to answer. How could she even begin to tell him of the horrors she was forced to face?

“Will you ever tell me of your mysterious past?”

It was not the way he said it that made her want to tell him. It was the thought that soon she would not ever see him again. This life in Rock’oles was merely temporary for both of them. For her, she would be elsewhere with Marcus in the future and there would be no place for someone as innocent as Nicholas Everard.

While for him, she was like many other women before her. She could easily be replaced. He could find another chamber or another expensive brothel like Rock’oles.

Her story would not matter to anyone should he ever repeat it.

She was unknown. She was unimportant. She was a nobody, and she would continue to be so until she perished.

“I woke up one day without memory of who I was.” She felt him stiffen in surprise beside her. Oh, how she would love to see the look on his face. He was probably gaping in disbelief. “I had nothing but the intense ache in my head. Not my vision, not even my voice.” She bitterly smiled as the memory of voices and sounds came back to her. Apart from her dreams, she never dared think of them until now. “A man who claimed to be my uncle told me that I was injured. He took care of me until I was well and the headache disappeared but the shadows and lights never did. My vision never came back.”

She let the silence linger for she could not go further. She could not think of how her uncle started to change. She could not speak of the disgusting things he had done to her, or the filthy way he and his friends touched her. She could not dare herself to consciously remember and tell Nicholas of the many nights she had prayed they would let her die.

But Nicholas was not naïve, nor was he foolish.

His hand tightened around her. “This uncle of yours, is he still alive?” His voice was void of its playfulness. There was raw anger in each word.

“I cannot say,” she said with a shrug. “And that is all you will know about my past. It no longer concerns me.”

“But what of the one you cannot remember?”

“That is also not one I cannot discuss. I cannot remember still.”

He was silent for a moment before he asked, “Do you not want to know about the life you have forgotten?”

She smiled. “What made you believe I do not know?”

“Sophie, you just said that—”

“—I cannot remember, yes. But it does not entail I do not know my past.”

“You are deliberately confusing me.”

She chuckled. “Then stop with the questions, my lord.” She drew away from him and walked to the bed. “Would you wish to make love now or later?”

When he did not reply, she turned around and found his form still in the chaise. He was staring at something on the floor. She followed the direction of his head and found Brigid’s small form crouched near the table.

“My lord?” she asked.

“Sophie, do you know that Brigid has green eyes?”

Sophie smiled. She had not yet made up her mind if she liked this side of him, the one that could easily forget a sensitive topic in exchange of a petty one.

“I believe you have already mentioned it in passing, yes.”

“Precisely like Mrs. Beagle’s.”

Sophia stifled a laugh. “Nick, please, we are not talking about that again.”

He started to move with caution as he reached for Brigid but the cat jumped away. “I will take her back to Emma. I will catch her today and put her in my coat. She needs to bloody go home. And when she does, a cage shall be at the ready.”

“The cat will stay here where she belongs,” she said, walking toward Nicholas. He stood up and met her in the middle of the chamber. His lips hovered above hers in a teasing manner he learned to adapt in the weeks they had been together. And many times she had been tempted.

His hands ran up and down her sides, tracing her curves as his mouth traveled along her jaw, his breath hot and thick against her skin.

“Will you be at the exchange?” she asked breathlessly. Her dress dropped weightless around her feet.

“Why do you ask?”

She needed to ask. She needed to know.

“No, I will not be at the exchange,” he confirmed when she did not offer a reply. “I am not a Guard. I will die in battle if one shall ensue.”

She forced herself to chuckle at his quip, a sigh of relief rushing out of her mouth.

“But my brother will be there.”

For a brief moment she did not feel his mouth hotly kissing her neck or his hand kneading her breast. She did not even notice that he managed to lead her to the bed and on her back.

She stared up at his shadowy face above her.

She knew he was smiling as he said, “Fret not, darling, Ralph is far better than me with swords and pistols.”

“And bombs?” she asked, feigning humor.

Laughter rumbled in his chest as he bent down to trail his lips down her throat to the peak of one breast. “I have no idea,” he said before covering the bud with his mouth.

Sophia allowed her eyes to close as a tear rolled down her face.

His family was everything to him. And his happiness was everything to her.

She could not let it happen.

She must stop it.

For Sophia believed that their future, separate as they would be, shall depend on Nicholas Everard’s happiness.

XIV. Wench

Sophia paced around her bedchamber as she waited for Marcus to arrive.

Aabha and Brigid followed her movements until the secret door opened and they both scrambled to hide under the bed.

Sophia stopped and turned to find Marcus with another letter in hand. His shadowy form bent to place it on the table. “The exchange shall happen in the dark forest,” his cold voice uttered. He was obviously still harboring anger from their last encounter.

“Do not go through with the ambush, Marcus,” she said, voice shaking.

He stiffly turned to face her and used the silence to lash on her. It had always worked in the past. He would stay silent and she would cower. But this time it was different. Lives were at stake.

“I cannot let you go through with it,” she insisted. “If you do it, I shall find a way to let the Guards know.”

“Why?” was his cold question. He took one step toward her. Sophia held her ground, using all her strength to stay strong. It was not an easy task to go against a man one had always been obedient to. “Why, Sophia?”

“Because they might overpower your men! They are the Town Guards!”

He let out a mocking chuckle. “Oh, Sophia, the many things you do not know.” She frowned as he took another step closer. “We have men in the Guards, my dear. Osegod shall make certain that they will also be there for the ambush.”

She gasped in horror as the weight of the situation fell upon her. She was engulfed with a sudden sense of desperation and helplessness.

What could she do? She was as powerless as the slaves in this game. But she had a voice.

She lifted her chin in defiance and uttered, “If you do this, I will cease to help you. I will be of no use to you.”

“You are being pathetic. And you will do what? Go to Nicholas Everard and tell him the truth? You will allow the Guards to use you against us? They will do the same we do to you, Sophia. They will use you. The only difference is that if you remain by us, you shall not go to prison.” He sighed and finally stopped right in front of her. “You are being pathetic. So tell me what you will do, Sophia? What will you do?”

She lifted her chin, her lips quivering as she uttered, “I will kill myself.”

A cold silence followed before Marcus managed a mocking chuckle. “You put so much importance upon yourself if you think I will concede.”

Her eyes welled with tears and she brushed them away. Taking a step back, she glared at Marcus with contempt. Never had she allowed herself to do so for never had she felt such feelings toward him.

“I have done everything you have asked of me until now. I only ask this one thing. Spare them, Marcus. You do not need blood in your hands.” When he started to shake his head, her desperation grew even stronger. “Have you not thought of the consequences of your actions? The ambush will merely prove their suspicion and everything you have thus far worked for will be ruined!” Sophia was certain Marcus saw her reason. She swallowed before she continued, “If Ralph Everard will be hurt, his brother will stop coming to me and you will lose an informant. He tells me everything! Not only that, he will believe I conceded to this plan! If this ambush happens, Marcus, the Guards will never rest. We do not want that to happen. Osegod merely wants to be rid of them for selfish reasons but he shall never take the fall—you will! We will!”

Marcus shook his head slowly. “Gaining Osegod’s trust is everything, Sophia. This is the most crucial part of our plans.”

“You can always gain his trust the other way. But not through this. You must realize that I am right, Marcus. You might be able to eliminate a few Guards, but you cannot stop those who remain loyal to their cause. Hurting them by hurting their comrades will not do you good.” When he did not say anything further, Sophia asked, “Do you truly want to do this? Do you truly believe that an ambush is the best way to scare the Guards away?”

Marcus paced before her, weighing her words. “You are too smart for your own good.”

“What does that mean?”

He did not answer for a while, simply kept pacing. Sophia waited, holding her breath.

Experience told her that Marcus ought not to be bothered when he was thinking. And she would wager everything she had that he was planning something.

When he stopped, his head turned to face her. “It means you win this argument, my dear. I do have better plans with Nicholas Everard after all. Osegod will have to be more patient.”

Her relief slowly ebbed away as fear crept in. “What do you mean?”

“Is it not better if we can use him and his family to help us with our plans? Osegod wants to have a spy within that family for some reason. Nicholas Everard shall be our spy and he will not even know about it.”

Sophia feigned ignorance. “I do not understand how the Everards are associated with Osegod, Marcus. They—”

“Osegod has his reasons and it is best to please him for now.”

“Lord Whiston does not tell any intimate information about his family,” she lied.

“In time, he will. After the service you have been providing him, he will ease,” he added the last statement with contempt. “You do not have to do anything. You only have to say yes when he asks.”

“Ask what?”

“Ask to take you away from here.”

She gasped in horror. “No!”

“Bloody hell, Sophia! You ought to learn to compromise!” When she continued to shake her head, he grabbed her upper arm and pulled her harshly toward him. “Are you in love with the man?”

Sophia refused to answer his question and instead she said, “I refuse to subject myself to that man’s whims, Marcus. Should he take me away, I will be of no use to you for he shall use me as his mistress, not his confidant!”

“I asked if you are in love with the man, Sophia,” he repeated, ignoring her words.

She remained stiff in his hold and refused to meet his gaze, focusing on the shadows and light around the room.

Marcus sighed. “Do not fool yourself to think that Nicholas Everard can ever love you back, Sophia. He is using you to get to us. And the moment that he does, he will disappear and find himself another lover. You must play this game with your mind, not with your heart.” He let her go and stopped beside the table where the letter lay. “Now, if you wish to save the Guards from the ambush, you will do as I say. Give this letter to Nicholas Everard as a sign of your loyalty to him. They will find naught but traces of evidence of an exchange, but they shall all live to tell the tale. He shall come back to you and you will tell him that there was another letter delivered in haste, changing the time of the exchange but you failed to inform him for it was too late. He shall believe you, fool that he is.”

Sophia harshly wiped the tears from her face.

“And then you shall work on how you can convince him to take you away from this place. Osegod shall be happy and so shall I.”

“And I?”

Marcus walked to the door. “I hold my promises, Sophia. Once we find no more use of Nicholas Everard, I shall come for you. And then, my dear, you shall be witness to the success of my plans. Together, the two of us, will win.”

---

Nicholas was not quite certain how he felt while on his way to Rock’oles.

He was hoping to see the final letter about the exchange today. And he was hoping to be able to convince Sophia that once this was all over, he would deliver his promise to her.

He would take her away from Rock’oles. He would provide her a home she could call her own. And if she would permit it, he would find a way to court her properly, however in tarnation that was supposed to be done.

He never had a brother—not one that was married—who did a proper courtship. Perhaps Benedict did before he was engaged to be married to Frances Highmore, but that did not end well as evidenced by the fact that his brother’s wife was not named Frances. And he did not truly court his wife. Their mother, along with their sisters, did the courting if they truly had to be honest. Benedict was a failure in the subject.

Levi was not one he could look up to as well. His brother whisked Victoria to Tiny Town after making her climb out a window. Levi might have been a charmer in the past, but he was no perfect suitor. He was even worse in matchmaking.

Maxwell could probably be the worst of the lot. He did not only stealthily seduce Nicholas’ valet, but he also followed Levi’s footsteps and took Maxine to Tiny Town, dragging Nicholas along to witness it. There was no bloody courtship where Maxwell and Maxine were concerned. Those two spent more time outwitting each other at every turn than walking through a garden in proper courtship.

He could ask his brothers-in-law, yes, but Cole was the Head of the Men of Courts in Wickhurst. He might find Sophia an interesting subject for the slavery case and Nicholas would rather die than watch her be feasted on in court in front of men who could not respect her person.

Wakefield did spend time courting Ysabella, but it was barely enough to compare with the time his sister spent courting Wakefield. If getting beaten by five angry brothers could be called courtship, then Nicholas ought to ask Sophia to find her family and see if she had male relatives. Otherwise, Wakefield was of no help.

As he thought of it all, Nicholas could not help but ask what the bloody hell was wrong with his family.

While Nicholas was led into Sophia’s chamber and when he saw her sitting in the corner with her usual calmness, he had to frown and wonder if there was any way he could ask Emma to find him a book about a lord’s guide to courtship. Perhaps there was one. Ysabella, after all, claimed to own A Lady’s Guide to Courtship. Surely there was one written for men?

Gazing at Sophia and knowing her quiet resolve to refuse him as a potential husband, Nicholas was certain he needed a book.

“The letter is here,” she told him the moment the door closed. His eyes landed on the white piece of paper on the table before her and he stalked toward it, eager to read the contents, eager to finally provide Ralph with the last detail for the exchange. So this bloody case could be done with. So he could take Sophia out of here. Damn society, damn etiquette. He wanted this woman.

He frowned down at the paper in his hand. “The dark forest? But that is almost a week away from—”

“Is that not the point, my lord? To do it very far away?”

He shook his head and nodded. “I will tell my brother.” He folded the paper and replaced it on the table. “As for you, you must start packing.”

She simply smiled up at him, blindly gazing at whatever she could see. “I do not have enough to pack.”

There was something in her eyes as she stood up and approached him. His heart started to hammer against his chest, his mind made up. He would take this woman away from here at all cost.

She did not belong here. She did not belong anywhere with any man but him.

He did not belong with any woman but her.

“Sophie…” he whispered but could not find the words to say. Perhaps later. Mayhap at the perfect time.

She raised her hand and lightly traced his face with the tip of her fingers.

And then she rose on her toes and planted the softest kiss at the corner of his lips. Every fiber of his being erupted into flames as she lightly traced his mouth with hers. He remained still, unsure of what she was thinking or planning.

When her hands firmly planted on his chest, feeling the erratic beating of his heart, Nicholas held his breath and waited. Because he knew it was coming.

He had never thought he would be half-begging and half-afraid for a kiss, especially with a woman like Sophia but he was at that moment rendered as such.

And when she finally gave him the sign by lightly coaxing his lips with hers, he lost all control and opened his mouth over hers, taking the first taste of her, the very soul of her. And it was more wonderful than anything they had shared together in bed. It was far beyond that.

She kissed him with equal measure as if she was afraid and her life depended on it. She clung to him as if it were their last. Nicholas would later have to tell her that it was merely the beginning and she need not be afraid.

To know that she was giving him something she had never shared with any man before, to know that she willingly offered it, Nicholas found himself beyond repair. And he was fine with it. He was fine broken for this woman was his beautiful ruin.

His arms circled around her in a crushing embrace, their breath suddenly frantic as they both blindly found their way to the bed. Everything else was forgotten. Everything else did not matter.

He was kissing Sophia. He was kissing her.

---

“I do not wish to leave,” he said against her temple hours later.

Sophia snuggled closer, refusing to look up for she feared that he would read something in her eyes. “Why?” she softly asked.

“If I leave you here before the exchange happens, I am afraid that I may not be able to return. Things might not end in favor to the Guards. Their trap might not work.”

“And what makes you believe you cannot return to me?”

“If the trap is unsuccessful, I fear I will be banned from this place. They will know who gave the information. They will know it is you and I fear for your safety, Sophie. You must come with me now.”

She tilted her head to give him a quick kiss before she rose from the bed, dragging the covers with her. “Fret not about my safety, Nick. I will be waiting for you here. We have much to discuss after the exchange.”

She started to gather his clothes.

“I am not—”

“You will have to tell your brother about the dark forest. And you will wait until the exchange and you will come back here to me.” She laid the clothes on the bed beside him. He rose on his elbows and she smiled at him. “I will be waiting when you return,” she promised, bending over him to plant her lips against his.

Nicholas groaned and reached for her. “I can never have enough of you, woman. You will have to concede to my plans. Else I shall perish.”

Sophia chuckled against his lips and welcomed his onslaught. She gave in to his demands and demanded more in return.

This shall be the last.

---

Sophia spent the rest of the week thinking and planning.

Marcus did not visit her again as he was kept occupied with other works. The slave trade and Rock’oles were not his only business, after all.

She waited with anticipation as the day for the exchange drew near.

Lord Cigar visited once but without a letter. He merely dropped by to inquire if Marcus was bloody crazy for not going through with their plans, to which Sophia had no clear response. How could she tell Lord Cigar that she was the one who begged for the ambush to not take place?

“Osegod will not be happy about this!” he cried out, the first time she had heard him mention Osegod’s name.

She had stayed quiet, feigning ignorance of the plans, until he stormed out of her chamber.

Lord Gruff followed a day after, angrier than Lord Cigar. He left only after Aabha growled at him when he tried to force Sophia to tell him more of Marcus’ plans.

“If Osegod makes us pay for this, you and Durley will face me and you will regret it,” he scathingly said before he left.

Sophia was left unperturbed as she did not share their sentiments. However, she knew their threats were not empty.

There were too much at stake for these men, she understood that. But they were all being foolish if they thought that a harsh and hasty ambush could keep the Guards from pursuing the trade.

---

The night before the actual exchange, Sophia had trouble sleeping. She gave up after hours of lying wide awake in her bed.

Tomorrow, when the Guards would fail with their plans and not find a single slave or a man to interrogate, Nicholas would rush back to her. He would be confused and she would try to provide the very instruction Marcus had given her. She would tell him about the supposed change of plans.

And he would believe her. He would believe her because it was the only logical explanation.

And once he wrapped his mind around it, he would ask her to go with him as they had planned—as he had planned.

But unlike what Marcus had told her, she would refuse the offer.

She could no longer continue to spy on him and his family, not when she was in love with him. Not when she was in love with the idea of being with him.

She did not trust Osegod. Sophia could not let herself be used by Osegod to spy on the Everards.

She was willing to help Marcus in any way, but not when it also meant helping Osegod ruin an innocent family. Being a part of that plan was not in hers.

Ending everything with Nicholas Everard would not put an end to Marcus’ plans. He had a very good one before Nicholas ever came to the picture.

Her plan was seemingly easy in her head as she waited for Nicholas one day later.

But she knew it would not be easy to push him away. Because that would exactly be how she ought to do it. Letting him go would not work for a man like Nicholas Everard. He would not have it. He would demand for reasons and provide even more sensible and tempting ones to dissuade her.

She ought to push him away and make certain that he never came back.

I have decided to end everything.

I have decided this is going nowhere.

I can no longer betray Marcus for I love him. I have to choose between your lousy promises and his.

We can never be, Nick. You and I know it. Let me be the sensible one to end it now.

They have decided to cease the trade for a while. I am no longer of use to you. Let us end this.

I don’t have strong feelings for you to warrant to desire for your presence. There are other men to please and there are far more women for you to fool around with.

Sophia closed her eyes, trying to think of the correct words to say. She had thought of countless, she had practiced a lot.

Marcus’ presence was not helping her think either.

“Remember, Sophia, I did what you asked. Osegod and his men are not happy, but they shall soon see my reason. As for you, I expect that you follow my plans this time.”

She merely nodded. Would he believe her if she told him that Nicholas Everard no longer wanted her? Would Marcus believe her if she claimed that Nicholas decided to stop his visits after this failure? That Nicholas no longer found any use of her? That was a very good reason for a rakehell like Nicholas could very well say the same words.

“Sophia, did you hear me? Whiston will be here soon. If not today, probably by the morrow. The Guards would have already alerted Wickhurst of their failure by now.”

Before Sophia could open her mouth to speak, the secret door burst open and Mr. Mast came rushing in. “My lord,” he addressed Marcus breathlessly, “someone is waiting for you in your study.”

Sophia snapped her head at Mast’s direction. The manager rarely interrupted Marcus’ time with her unless there was an urgent matter that needed to be attended. And by the man’s current breathless state, the matter was apparently more than urgent.

Marcus stood to his feet. He gave Sophia one last look. “Should the bastard decide to escape with you, do be sure to leave a note, Sophia. I have a man waiting outside tasked to follow where he might take you. I cannot disappoint Osegod twice in a row.”

Sophia nodded stiffly. Then I am afraid you will have to, she replied in her head. “I shall try my best. Don’t miss me while I am away, Marcus. And do take me away as soon as you can for I might enjoy living with the Everards.”

He scoffed and she heard the door close.

Brigid came out of hiding and joined her on the chaise. Aabha crawled out from under the bed as well and sat beside the door.

The three of them waited for Nicholas Everard.

“This can be a very long wait, my dears,” she told them with a nervous smile.

Was she ready to let him go? Was she ready to spare him of her?

The answer was a resounding NO.

But she must save him from her and Marcus.

This stupid charade had been wrong from the very start. Marcus was foolish to have thought Nicholas was useful. She was even a greater fool to have thought she could handle the man.

This was an utter failure.

Sophia was drawn away from her thoughts when she heard three loud knocks. Sophia frowned and stood to her feet. Brigid followed her to the door. She peered through the peephole and found Nicholas’ familiar form standing outside.

Ah, of course. Mast was with Marcus.

He knocked three times once more. Sophia ignored the alarmingly angry sound for her heart was already racing inside her chest. Or perhaps it had died and she could no longer feel it.

Before she changed her mind, she reached for the handle and turned the lock.

Nicholas swung the door open before she did. It banged against the wall, causing Sophia to gasp in surprise. He reached for it and it slammed shut again, causing her to flinch.

She could not see Nicholas’ face, but she could feel the anger radiating from within him.

“Tell me the truth, Sophia,” he demanded, chasing her into the middle of the room.

She was confused. “What are you talking about? I have something to tell you. There was another letter delivered—”

“Stop lying, Sophia and tell me the truth!”

She frowned as she blinked, desperate to read more from his face. “What—”

His hand was rough, his grasp far from a caress, when he grabbed her arm and wrenched her toward him.

“My brother and his men were attacked, you conniving wench!”

XV. Then

Sophia stumbled back.

“I-I d-don’t understand…” she stammered, her brows slowly forming into a frown.

Nicholas’ hand tightened around her arm. “Dare not deny it, Sophia. You fooled us all!”

Sophia was lost for words. She wondered then if it was possible to die at will because at that moment, while Nicholas was shaking with rage, she had no other desire.

But the shock was slowly being replaced by the feeling of betrayal. Marcus had betrayed her.

Marcus, the only man she could fully trust with her life had given her his word and disregarded it all the same.

“Choose your next words wisely, Sophia,” Nicholas seethed above her, twisting her arm to elicit a wince from her. “Tell me the bloody truth now!”

Despair fell upon her. What had happened to his brother? Was he alive?

Sophia had to go. She had to find Marcus. She had to demand for answers.

Why did he betray her?

“Open your bloody mouth and speak!” Nicholas hissed at her, shaking her with one hand. “Did Durley put you through it?” he demanded.

Her face blanched. Oh God, Marcus was here. Nicholas was in no condition to properly think.

Fearing for the worst, Sophia’s mind reeled as she thought of a way to make Nicholas go away. He had to go. If Marcus did not hesitate to harm Ralph and the Guards, he would not do so again with Nicholas.

“I did it on my own volition,” managed to say without her voice shaking. She pulled away from his grip and he let go of her, pushing her away as if the touch of her scorched him. She fought the tears that threatened to come out by stepping back. Aabha went to stand between her and Nicholas.

Nicholas scoffed at her in disbelief. “God, you are not even denying it.”

Sophia tightened her jaw and lifted her chin. She shrugged. “I had to do everything as planned.”

“What? Because you have no other choice? Tell me the truth now, Sophia.” His voice had softened as he stepped closer and Sophia heard desperation edge his tone. “Did Durley force you into this? He has this much power over you that your own freedom no longer matters?”

If she told him the truth, he would ask her to leave with him. He would even resort to hauling her over his shoulder and escape Rock’oles. She did not want that.

She would ruin him.

She shook her head and forced a mocking smile on her lips. They gave a slight quiver but she hoped Nicholas did not notice it. “No. I never hesitated to do anything. I never strayed from our plans. I never planned to betray Lord Durley, my lord, for I love him and I will do anything for him.”

Her hands balled into fists beside her. He had to go. Marcus could come back anytime soon.

He had to go!

“If you wish to send the Guards to capture me, please do so. I will merely be glad to provide them with a good service for that is all I know. Your statements against us shall hold no weight for you do not have the evidence. You do not have the letters.”

Go, Nick. Please, go.

She had thought of many ways to part from him and this was not one of them. But perhaps this was the most effective. Truly, how ironic!

He let out a mocking chuckle and Sophia’s nostrils flared at how he was behaving. The man standing before her was far from the man she loved. And she was to blame for it. He ought to blame her for everything. She would gladly burn in hell for what she had caused.

But for now, he must leave Rock’oles. One Everard hurt was enough.

“I merely hope your brother is alright?” she managed to ask, feigning nonchalance. “After all, I did ask the men to not be too rough during the ambush. We have acquired what we needed after all, my lord. We were left with but one last task and that was to deliver a message to the Guards and I believe they have received it clearly.”

“Stop talking, you cunt!”

Yes, please, hate me. Then forget me. Forget Rock’oles. Forget us.

She saw Nicholas reach for her and she flinched away but he stopped himself. He scoffed. “No, you don’t deserve my heavy hand for I will never bother to dirty myself with a lowly subject.”

His words rang back to her and speared through her entire form. What made it even more painful was the inability to move and soothe the ache.

He took a step closer. “Should I then give you my deepest gratitude for sparing my brother? They did lose two men, but he managed to escape with one shot on his thigh.”

Her fingers dug into her palm until it hurt. Sophia swallowed the relief and pain.

“And here I was hoping you will gladly fly into my arms and escape this dratted place! I have had a hard time ignoring the fact that you are having other men in your bed other than me, but I managed to do so because I want you. I must truly be what they think of me—a bloody fool and an idiot!”

Sophia flinched and simply stayed quiet. She did not say anything. She was afraid to speak. Her throat was closing up on her, the tears threatening to spill out.

She could not let him stay longer.

Finally he did step away and Sophia fought her body’s instinct to move forward and follow him. She held her ground instead and waited for his next words.

“The moment I step out of your chamber, Sophia, I am not coming back. Think now or you will forever lose me.”

She did not move. She simply stood frozen from where she was, resisting the intense urge to take one step and escape Rock’oles. But she could not do it. For as much as she loved him, she could not be with him. Even if she believed they could work, she could never give him everything—not even her full loyalty, not even her secrets.

“Whatever do you mean, my lord? That you are still willing to help me escape from this place? After what I have done? Do you think me a fool? This is where I belong and I have always known it. You, on the other hand, are clinging on to your own crafted fantasies.”

A long, chilling silence followed her statement. She focused her eyes on the man before her, the shadows on his face and the light casted by the ceiling lamp above them. This would be the last picture of him in her mind and she was not even quite certain if she wanted to hang on to it for it was filled with great fury and sorrow.

She saw him slowly shake his head.

“Then forgive me, Sophia, if I choose to break your second rule, the one that states you say when I stop my calls. Because this time, my dear, I say this shall be my last visit.”

Sophia nearly crumpled on the ground as a penetrating force clenched inside her chest, travelling outward to her limbs and the tips of her fingers. They lingered where they stopped merely to attack her yet again until every breath was a labor, every thought painful.

Yet she must remain unmoved and strong for a few more seconds.

She forced a smile but only managed a slight twitch of the corner of her lips.

Nicholas turned and walked to the door. Before pulling it open, he stopped to say, “Do not fear that I will send the Guards here for you are correct. You have fooled us thoroughly with perfection that we have to admit defeat. You can stay safe in this chamber. For a while.”

He pulled the door open and the light from the corridor outside made his features clearer in her eyes. But she hated the loathsome face that the shadows created.

“Then I hope to God Durley can love you the way I do. And I hope that by the moment you are facing the greatest failure and tragedy of your life, you will remember me then. For you will, Sophie, you will remember this moment. You will remember then.”

With those last words that were filled with desolation, loathing and despair, Nicholas Everard walked out of Sophia’s chamber for the last time.

---

Sophia did not waste more time to mourn over her loss for she had the rest of her life to do it. She rushed through the secret door and blindly found her way to Marcus’ study where Mr. Mast and two other men were standing.

The three men Marcus was having what seemed to be a heated discussion with stopped and turned when she burst into the room hissing, “How could you!” stumbling as her foot caught on the foot of a chair she failed to see.

Marcus instantly knew what she meant and he turned to Mr. Mast and the other two men to say, “Leave us.”

The men left and closed the door behind them, leaving Sophia and Marcus inside the study.

“Has Whiston come to you?” Marcus asked, standing to his feet.

She almost lurched at him across the table as she slammed her palms down. “He just left. He will never return. Why did you go through with the ambush, Marcus? Why!”

“Bloody stop shouting, Sophia,” Marcus droned with a sigh. His hand lifted to press a spot between his eyes. “I did not do it. Osegod did. I just found out myself.”

Sophia’s jaw tightened as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “You promised, Marcus!”

“I do not have full control of that bloody bastard!” he hissed at her.

Sophia froze. He was telling the truth and she hated that she could not kill him for lying.

“I had no bloody idea, Sophia. Osegod is proving to be the most stupid imbecile addlebrained in every passing damned time.”

Sophia whimpered as she stumbled back.

It would have been better if she saw Nicholas’ fury. She could easily close her eyes and shut it away. But she heard the hatred and pain in his voice and no matter how much she wanted to shut them out, they refused to go away. She covered her face with her hands, unable to control her tears any longer.

“They lost two men, Marcus,” she mumbled, shivering at the thought. “His brother could have been one of them.”

Marcus let her sob for a while before he asked, “Did you tell him the truth?”

She shook her head, wiping her face dry. Of course, that was all that mattered to him. He would want to know if they could still use Nicholas for his plans.

“Why?” he asked.

She sniffed and squared her shoulders. “There was no use.”

“And you made certain he never comes back. You know we might still need him.”

“No, you do not,” she seethed. “You had everything planned out. All you needed to know is how much they know. Now you do. You do not need him.” She glared at his shadowy face with disbelief. “Have you not realized that you now have blood in your hands? Two Guards are dead because—”

“I do not answer for Osegod’s foolish actions!”

“You are answerable to everything from the moment you ordered for me to welcome Nicholas into my chamber. And I am an even bigger criminal for allowing it!” She choked as she added, “We have been destroying lives since you entered the slave trade, Marcus. I do not know how long I can allow you to pave our way to hell.”

Marcus walked up to her but dared not stop her. “I promised that I shall put everything to rights once we get—”

“—once you get what you deserve. I am not a part of it. I never was.”

“You have the right to be a part of it,” he uttered strongly. “And we shall claim it.”

Sophia felt a rush of chill go up her spine. “Will it be worth it, Marcus? After you gain what you want, will it be worth it?”

“Yes,” he said in a cold voice. “Have patience, Sophia. Things will fall into their rightful place very soon.”

Sophia did not say anything further so she simply closed her eyes in defeat. “Do one thing for me, Marcus,” she whispered shakily.

“Of course.”

“Spare the Everards.”

“They were never my enemy.”

Her eyes opened and she glared at Marcus. “But Osegod considers them as his and he uses everyone on his side to get what he wants.”

“I will deal with Osegod.” His voice was etched with hesitation that Sophia could not fully believe him. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes,” she said, stopping in her way to the door. “I wish to not be bothered by any of your contacts until I say so.”

“Sophia…” he softly called out to her but she stopped him by a look over her shoulder.

“I love you, Marcus. To a point that I will do almost everything for you,” she said brokenly. “I also do hope you love me enough to leave me alone for a while.” She swallowed, a whimper escaping her lips. “As your sister, I deserve a moment to convince myself that you are worth this sacrifice.”

XVI. Lord Durley

MANY MONTHS LATER

“What do you suppose this family dinner will be about?” Ralph asked out of nowhere.

“Our mother always invents occasions for dinner. For all we know we are to celebrate the first year of your leg’s survival. How the bloody hell would I know?” Nicholas asked with a frown, his attention on the paper in his hand.

Ralph ignored his statement by cocking a brow. “I have always thought you never learned to read.”

Nicholas glared at his brother over the copy of the Herald. Ralph chuckled for a while. As his laughter died down he groaned and brushed his fingers through his hair. “Ah, I am too bloody bored.”

“We can go for a longer hunting trip in a fortnight,” Nicholas offered, turning a page.

“No, I was referring to my mission.”

Nicholas drew a long breath and rolled his eyes behind the paper. “You say that too bloody often.”

“Because it is true,” Ralph said, coming to his feet. “The culprit is the mistress and I know it. The problem now is how to tell the grieving widow.”

“Send the woman a missive,” Nicholas offered. “Dearest Mrs. Firefox, your husband was poisoned by whom we suspect to be his mistress who, by happenstance, also happens to be your neighbor. The noises you hear through the walls those nights your husband is away should also no longer be a mystery. We shall conduct a thorough investigation following this suspicion. The bored Town Guard, Ralph Everard.”

His brother let out a scoff. “If that is only possible,” Ralph muttered, refilling his brandy. “Anyhow, I ought to break the news by the morrow to start questioning.”

“It is Sunday. Church,” Nicholas reminded.

Ralph cursed under his breath. “Monday then.”

“You promised to take Emma to the modiste.”

“Bloody hell. Then when?”

“You are the Town Guard,” Nicholas replied, flipping another page.

A quiet fell in the room until Ralph settled back in his seat. Nicholas could feel his brother’s gaze through the sheets of paper before him. “The League refuses to disclose any information about the man we captured since they took over the entire bloody case.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened. “You mean since your mission was snatched out of your hands.”

A sound close to a whine escaped Ralph. “The bloody bastards took everything.”

“Including all your notes.”

“Yes, and now they run about town under disguise. Not even our own sister will tell us anything.”

“Perhaps you can leave the Guards and join them. Do not whine about spilled milk, brother.”

“Should I take the bandit case?”

“What bandit case?”

“The southern bandits, ones just off Tiny Town.”

“You mean the ones near the dark forest.” Nicholas peered over the paper. “You still hope you can gather more information for the slave case?”

Ralph shook his head. “No. As much as I wish to be part of it,” he said, slapping his thigh, “I cannot let mother suffer the same way like before. I must wait another year or two until I try a mission as big as the slave trade.” When Nicholas offered no reply, Ralph frowned. “What the bloody hell are you reading?”

“Durley and his empire,” he muttered, blindly reaching for his drink. “He is quite a busy man ever since he came out to society.”

Ralph’s face darkened. “I have heard the ladies talk about him just yesterday. They are in love with the man.”

“Well, he is striking,” Nicholas muttered, face serious as he looked at Durley’s large still picture printed on the Herald. The man was indeed striking and he was too bloody rich. “But not as handsome as I, of course,” he said with a sigh.

Ralph chuckled. “Things are changing, big brother. Merely a year ago you were the most sought-after bachelor in Wickhurst. But now here comes Durley. He is tall, well-built, a charmer and he owns the bloody firm that publishes the Herald itself. No wonder that woman betrayed you.”

His jaw tightened. He was grateful he never shared everything to Ralph, even more so when he managed to act as though leaving Rock’oles was the easiest thing he had ever done. “Along with another secret business that is composed of hundreds of slaves you say?” he said instead, ignoring Ralph’s last comment. “And speaking of the Herald, no wonder there was no mention of his illegal activities, eh? The bastard has it all figured out, I dare say.”

Ralph shrugged. “Whatever he is planning is no longer a concern to us. Even Margaret will have nothing to do with the slavery mission of the League now.”

“It is if the man graces all social events with Osegod himself.”

“Fret not, brother,” said Ralph dismissively. “Margaret will give us warning should there be any sign that Osegod is upon us. Again, that is.”

Nicholas sighed and set the Herald aside, crossing his leg over the other as he studied Ralph. It was merely years ago when his brother was naught but a young schoolboy who had endless squabbles and banters with the twins. Now they were bloody talking about politics and conspiracies. And women.

The memory of Sophia’s mocking smile from his last visit in Rock’oles a year ago flashed at the back of his mind. They had ceased to haunt him for months now but perhaps because of the bloody article about Durley, they came back like a nightmare in his waking hours. As to his nights, she was a frequent visitor and he would often wake up wanting her.

He had simmered down the anger and shame curling in the pit of his stomach. Not for his sanity but for his brother who was obviously still not over what happened at the ambush. Ralph still refused to talk about the details of the incident and Nicholas would often catch him massaging his right thigh in rare occasions. If anyone else had noticed it or was concerned over Ralph’s avoidance to talk about it, Nicholas never knew because it would be a futile effort to force Ralph to sit down and tell them everything.

From the corner of his eye, he saw half of Durley’s still picture on the folded copy of the Herald. After what happened in the ambush, after one of his men was captured and while Ralph and the others were mourning over the loss of two of their own, Durley shortly came out to society and everyone feasted on the handsome, rich young lord from nowhere.

The ton cared not that his past was hazy for it seemed that they do love the mystery. And not one maiden and their mothers were heard complaining that he owned Rock’oles. He was striking and tall, he owned the bloody Herald amongst many other businesses and he was within, even higher, their class. That was all that mattered to them.

But Nicholas and some other men who had heard of Durley before he became everyone’s favorite subject knew better.

What are you planning, Durley?

---

Their mother broke the usual ruckus between Emma and Ralph by gracefully planting her palms on the table and clearing her throat to say, “Now, children, could you please gather a tiny bit of decorum as I make an announcement?”

Ralph threw Emma an angry look but did not say anything further. Emma, on the other hand, turned her attention on Mrs. Beagle, caressing the cat.

Nicholas shared a look with the feline. If it could speak, would it be mocking him? After all, it was a bloody witness to how he had made a fool of himself for months a year ago.

Once, when Mrs. Beagle first returned after Nicholas left Rock’oles, he had demanded to Emma that she throw the cat away. He did not spare the cat of the loathing he felt toward its other mistress. And for more than a month Nicholas refused to visit the Everard estate simply because of the bloody cat. Only when he heard of the news that it went missing again did he return only to disappear yet again when it came back. But as the months wore on, he had gotten accustomed to the cat’s presence again, his hatred toward it numbing as Nicholas managed to successfully lock away all memories of Rock’oles.

“Now, is the bantering postponed?” their mother asked.

There were merely five of them around the table, six including Lady Alice. Ysabella and Wakefield were seated at each side of their mother, Ralph next to Wakefield and across from him was Emma. Nicholas was sitting beside Ralph, eager to finish the dinner and go back to his apartment.

“If Emma provides a sufficient reason as to why Samuel was here this morning, I shall rest my case,” Ralph uttered, glaring at Emma.

“As I have iterated earlier,” Emma wryly uttered, “I do not have to answer to you, Ralph, but since you seem to be overly protective over your friend, I assure you that he merely came here to deliver a book and the invite. I did not debauch him if that is your concern.”

“What book?”

“One I have been looking for a long time,” Emma snapped.

“And the invite,” Lady Alice interjected with a smile, one she wore almost always, “is from the Theobalds.”

Wakefield, Ralph and Nicholas groaned.

The three ladies turned to look at them with corresponding frowns.

“Of course, the Theobald party,” Ralph uttered with a sigh. He turned to their mother and said, “and this dinner’s purpose is to coerce us into coming to attend.”

Their mother’s blue eyes went round with mocking hurt and surprise. “My, son, whatever made you think I shall mellow down my coercions?”

Ysabella and Emma snorted in laughter.

“Bloody great,” Nicholas groaned.

“Language, son,” their mother warned sternly. “Now,” she said, looking at Nicholas and Ralph. “This shall be the first Theobald party Maxine shall attend as herself and she needs our utter support.”

“She only needs Maxwell, mother,” Nicholas said. “The mere sight of him would silence the gossipmongers. In fact, it would scare the lot of them.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Alice said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Beatrice will not be subjected to society’s ire because her family is not present to defend and protect her. My granddaughter will have naught but a very normal life and she shall not suffer the same way her mother did.”

All Everard children knew that whenever Lady Alice talked about her grandchildren, she was at her utmost serious and sane state of mind. They all fell silent.

Lady Alice smiled with contentment. “Good. Now, we shall assure your new niece’s future by showing your support for this Theobald party, meaning the entire Theobald family. Understood?”

“Yes, mother,” Ysabella and Emma murmured. Wakefield, Ralph and Nicholas nodded.

“Good!” their mother said jovially. “This shall be the first time that the Everard family will be complete at the ball.”

Ralph frowned. “By everyone, Mother, do you mean including the children?”

Lady Alice smiled. “Everyone, son. Everyone.”

“This will be a ruckus, I swear on it,” said Ralph. He turned to Wakefield and asked, “By any chance, is Ysa with child? Might as well bring an unborn babe to join the rumpus.”

Ysabella narrowed her eyes at Ralph. “Are you mocking us?”

Ralph blanched. “No, of course not! It was an innocent question!”

“Simply because we believe we ought to wait does not mean we cannot have a babe!” Ysabella gritted out.

“Darling, I believe Ralph was merely—”

“No, he has deliberately—”

“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy, let us continue the meal!” their mother said with a sigh. “And perhaps you can continue your very decent discussion over tea.”

Nicholas chuckled, gaining his mother’s attention.

“And Nicholas, dear, you look like hell. Find yourself a valet, for God’s sake, and have yourself trimmed.”

“He is inclined never to have one, mother,” Ralph reminded everyone with a laugh.

“A trim or a valet?” their mother asked.

“Both!” Ralph cried out with a chuckle.

“William can order Morris to come by your apartment, Nick,” was Ysabella’s offer. “He served him as valet for many years before he became the butler.”

“Morris, my dear,” Wakefield grimly uttered, “will merely scare all chances of considering a new valet for Nicholas.”

“But Morris is—”

“Too nosy, darling.”

“Too endearing!”

Wakefield sighed. “Very well.” He turned to Nicholas and forced a smile. “Morris can come by your apartment on the morrow. But do be sure to not say a word that would entice his curiosity. You will not appreciate it. Have him do all a valet ought to do and instruct him never to open your letters, your books—in short, do not allow him entry into your study.”

“That is settled,” Lady Alice said before Nicholas could refuse the offer. “You all come to the Theobald party at your best condition. Oh, this will be a marvelous occasion.”

“Just make certain the nannies will be there, Mother,” Ralph said, “for as much as I love the children, I do not think I can spend the entire weekend chasing after them or vice versa.”

“Yes, this party definitely warrants the presence of the nannies,” Nicholas concurred.

“Fret not over the children. They are not expected to grace the parties as I believe they will enjoy it more than we all will in one wing of the manor where they can run about and cause ruckus without judgment,” their mother said with a sigh.

“If that is the case, I volunteer as nanny,” Nicholas offered in jest. But in his mind he was dreading the Theobald party.

One could never know what shall arise from one of the Town’s most famous occasions.

---

Sophia was working on her latest project when the secret door to her chamber opened. She listened to Marcus’ soft footsteps, her hands still working on a mound of clay.

For nearly a year now, she had found a leisure pursuit that helped calm her mind. It was Marcus’ idea to have clays delivered to her chamber. At first she was curious and doubtful whether or not he was being serious. But he almost begged her to try molding a simple structure.

Often she wondered if Marcus knew the extent of her despair those first months after the ambush. She wondered if her brother was trying to gain her forgiveness by giving her something she could love.

And Sophia did learn to love molding structures. And perhaps she did manage to forgive Marcus despite what she believed that there was none to give for both of them were responsible for all their actions.

“Another project?” he asked, sitting across from her.

“You are blocking my light, Marcus,” she murmured, narrowing her eyes on the bust of head in front of her. She had been working on it for nearly a month yet she could not quite perfect it. She had naught to work on but her touch and the shadows she created.

Her fingers paused when she heard Marcus sigh. She looked up to find his silhouette facing her from across the table.

“Is it time?” she asked without requiring a word.

“Yes.”

Sophia leaned back and reached for her cloth, barely touching the book that had been untouched for nearly a year. She never had the stomach to touch it or put it away even when Lord Cigar ceased his visits. Her brother had announced that all transactions shall be delivered straight to him as Sophia was occupied with a different mission .

The men and the slave trade were no longer of paramount concern, he had said. They had to make haste with their plans after the ambush.

And so he came out to society as Lord Marcus Durley.

“I shall send a modiste by the morrow for fittings,” Marcus said.

“Whatever for? I have enough at my disposal.”

“The Town ought to see your beauty, my dear.” He reached out to take her hand. “But if you change your mind and would rather stay here instead, I can find a different form of—”

Sophia shook her head. “No. This is the plan I agreed on many years ago. Despite what happened, this is what I consented to do to help you.” She forced a smile on her lips. “Have the modiste come on the morrow. You have gone to great lengths to acquire an invite for the Theobald party and I will be there with you.”

XVII. Of Mistresses

Waiting for their mother and Emma to decide to leave behind whatever it was they were doing and go straight to Theobald, Nicholas and Ralph decided to stretch their legs and do the waiting outside by the carriage.

“The League has decided to loosen their watch over Durley,” Ralph uttered, tone edged with derision.

“Why in tarnation would they do that?” Nicholas asked almost in outrage. He glared down at his brother as if he was amongst the Leaguers responsible for such atrocious decision.

“As what I heard being whispered amongst the Guards, they are looking into a more potential angle in the trade. They are giving all their efforts in trapping Baldwin. I believe the man’s wife is not very well and the League might be thinking of using her as means to pulling Baldwin to their side.”

“They cannot completely discount Durley now. If they want to solve the slave trade, they ought to provide him even more attention.”

Ralph sighed and turned away, his brows forming a frown. “I believe, Nick, that the League does not consider the slave trade their utmost priority as much as they do jolting Osegod out of power.”

“Then they could all go to hell with Osegod,” Nicholas spat out. “The lot of them are naught but hypocrites. It is all politics, brother. How could the lives of hundreds of slaves be less important than Osegod?”

Ralph shrugged. “The good for many does not necessarily mean the good for all.”

“Bloody tarnation.”

Ralph sighed, his shoulders dropping with resignation. “Durley has the attention of the Town at the moment. His current celebrated status has been making it difficult for anyone to spy on him. It is better to let things calm down and the people’s attention to wane for a while.”

“And before we know it, the bastard has already taken over the Town and the League has simply let it happen. No wonder I never had the compulsion to join them.” He threw Ralph a look. “And the Guards had let it happen.”

Ralph glared at him. “Careful with your words, brother, we are not giving up.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Ralph shrugged. “Since the League has deliberately left Durley alone, I believe it is not entirely criminal to spy on him on our own. After all, we lost two of our own because of the bastard.”

Nicholas’ jaw clenched. He would never get over the guilt. If he was not too naïve, those two men would still be alive.

“I am considering asking Samuel’s help.”

Nicholas’ jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Durley owns the Herald after all.”

“You cannot truly think it wise to ask Samuel to be a spy, Ralph,” he nearly growled. Emma and their mother’s voice could be heard approaching from inside the estate. Nicholas stepped closer and hissed, “Things might end up badly like the last time. You cannot trust anyone associated with Durley. Even Samuel.”

Ralph scoffed. “Bloody hell, Nick, he is my friend. He is loyal to the family.”

“And have we not learned enough about friends betraying friends?” Emma and their mother were now descending the stairs to the driveway. “Find someone else who can spy on the man. For God’s sake, Ralph, spare Samuel.”

“Gloves make my hands sweat, Mother, I do not need them!” Emma was whining as they approached.

“You do,” Nicholas snapped at her as he opened the door of the carriage.

“No, I do not—”

“Yes, you do,” Ralph added sternly.

“See?” their mother said to Emma as she followed her daughter inside the carriage. “Your brothers agree! You cannot show too much skin, Emma, dear.”

“Then perhaps I do not need to be seen at all!” Emma cried as Ralph settled beside her and Nicholas closed the door.

“For God’s sake, Emma, do what Mother tells you and wear the bloody gloves!” Ralph irritably said.

---

Nicholas and Ralph decided to escape the numerous tea party invitations from mothers by spending their time in one wing of the Theobald manor where the children were located. Their rooms were connected and led to one large playroom where they were gathered with their governesses and nannies. The older children were playing a pretend tea party with their dolls. The little ones, of course, were in the arms of their nannies or on the floor, crawling.

Nicholas sat beside Maxwell while Ralph was being pulled by Faye and Fiona to be their guest in the tea party. No one wanted to play with Maxwell as the children seemed to be scared of him. In fact, the only person not bothered by his mien was his own daughter who was now in his arms.

“Emerald Beatrice Maxine Everard…” Nicholas said with a sigh. “Quite a mouthful, really.”

“I prefer to call her Max if you don’t mind,” Ralph said from the small chair he was sitting on. He picked up a small teacup and pretended to sip its invisible content. “Lovely tea, ladies,” he praised Fiona and Faye before continuing his statement to his brothers. “The Max Family—Max the mother, Max the father and Max the daughter.” Fiona and Faye let out a chuckle.

“I prefer Bea,” said Nicholas.

“She is Emmie for everyone,” Maxwell uttered with authority. “She is Bea only to me,” he said, looking down at his daughter with a glimmer in his eyes. Who would have thought that the most cynical in the family had the capacity to express such immense joy with just his eyes, Nicholas thought with wonder.

Lindsay, Levi’s daughter of four years, stumbled on her feet as she attempted to run toward Nicholas. Everyone jumped to their feet when she started to cry. The other smaller children, Ayah, Harold and Katie followed suit for no apparent reason but to mimic the sound. Lindsay’s nanny came and picked her up but she merely howled in tears even more.

“Take her,” Maxwell ordered Nicholas.

“Why?” Nicholas asked, looking at his niece warily.

“She is fond of you. Take her or Levi will kill us all.”

“I did not do—”

“Just take her,” Ralph said.

Nicholas sighed and walked over to Lindsay. The child held out her arms to him and quieted down as he gathered her in his. “There, there, Lindsay,” said Nicholas. “You want to play? Be a good girl, eh? Your cousins are crying with you, see?” Fiona and Faye had come to rescue the others who were still crying, offering tea with their handsome uncle Ralph.

“Should Levi ask, no accident happened,” he heard Maxwell say to the nanny.

---

After hours in the playroom, the women took over and shooed everyone from the room.

“Be ready for the ball tonight,” their mother had ordered before they left.

“I miss the time when I was merely chasing bandits,” Ralph was saying to Maxwell. “My current murder case is turning to be a bore. My only past time now is watching Durley’s every move through the Herald.”

Maxwell simply uttered, “Hmm,” before he turned to Nicholas and asked, “How many times had he said the same thing?”

“Too many,” he answered. He turned to Ralph and said, “The Theobald might just be the cause of your death, Ralph. It is too much of a bore for you, is it not?”

“And how will you be spending your time in this bloody party?”

Nicholas grinned meaningfully. “Carmel is taking most of my time, brother. I barely have enough for the parties.”

“She is here?”

“Of course. She will be alone in her chamber so do not expect me to spend my nights in ours.”

Ralph shook his head. “Bloody lucky bastard.”

“You two ought to get over the mistress business and find yourself a wife,” Maxwell droned.

“I cannot believe I am hearing it from you, Max,” Nicholas said with a laugh.

“It has many advantages,” their brother said as he turned to another corridor. “For one, you have someone to go to during a very boring party without it being a secret.”

Ralph shook his head as their brother disappeared and the two of them moved on. “An even luckier bastard.”

---

Sophia knew she was facing a viewing glass but what she saw was a shadow of a woman wearing a lavish gown. The maid said the color was that of silver and it was a great compliment to her skin.

She could not trust the woman’s judgment, of course, for she was paid to please Sophia.

She knew Marcus was inside the room before she heard his footsteps approach.

“Is it time?” she asked. “I am yet to don my hair. The maid went out to find help as she perceived to have tremendous challenge with my mane,” she said in a teasing tone.

“You look beautiful, Sophia,” her brother uttered.

That, she could trust, she mentally thought. “Thank you.”

Marcus sighed behind her. She looked through the looking glass. “What is the matter?”

He shook his head. “I hope there is another way to do this.”

He was afraid for her.

“I know of this plan, Marcus and I know of its consequences. Fret not. Now, shall we grace the ball and cause quite a stir?”

---

Nicholas lay on the bed, panting for breath, his eyes closed with a smile.

The hand resting on his bare chest moved to caress his sweat-damp arm. “We ought to be at the party or else people will notice we are missing,” Carmel whispered against his skin.

His hand tightened around her waist, pulling her closer beside him. “I miss you more.”

Carmel chuckled and moved to straddle him, hovering over him like a goddess. Her dark hair curtained around them as she leaned down to kiss his mouth. Her hips ground against his and he jerked in response. Nicholas groaned, moving with her.

He liked Carmel. She was not one to cling to a lover and she understood their agreement. After her horribly old husband died many years ago, leaving her very young and with a large sum to last her a lifetime, she never desired to marry again. She was rich and she was independent and she would not trade it for a life with a man who would own her and everything she had. Having lovers was merely one of her many ways to make herself happy.

She was fun to be with and a friend Nicholas could confide with. Meeting her three months ago could be considered a lucky strike. She became his friend and lover. And she saved him from many angry nights, listening to his darkest secrets. She saved him when he could not. She gave him hope that there were still women who would not take advantage of his foolishness.

An hour later, after having made love for the second time, Nicholas began to dress again. “I must join my family, love,” he told her, giving her a chaste kiss.

She lazily grinned as she watched him put on his breeches. She looked wonderful naked in the sheets. Her creamy white skin sparkling with sweat, her dark hair rumpled in an enticing manner, reminding Nicholas of what they just shared.

He would love to ask her to marry him, truly. She was the perfect wife. She had learned and matured in her years with her husband. She had learned so much that she could now offer more. But asking Carmel to marry him would not be fair to them both.

She was meant to live a life of freedom. He, on the other hand, meant to discover more of himself.

“Will you join me later in the gaming room?” he asked with a lopsided grin as he struggled with his boots.

“Of course, my lord,” she said. “As a widow, I am not expected to be present in the ball for long. It is hard enough to pretend to be still in mourning even after two years. Of course, I will rather enjoy the company of gentlemen.”

“You always do,” he said, straightening to full height. He grabbed his coat and put it on.

Carmel was giving Nicholas a look and he knew what he it. She wanted to tell him something.

“What is it, my dear?” he asked, walking over to sit beside her in bed.

“Nick, are you happy with me?”

He frowned. “Of course.”

She chuckled in embarrassment. “Of course, how silly of me. I have these weird thoughts, you see.”

“What thoughts, my dear? Tell me. We tell each other everything.”

She shrugged. “I have been hoping to help you forget her. Now,” she said sternly, lifting her forefinger in warning, “think not that I have other motives. I only honestly wish for you to be happy and I believe I will also be a happy woman, should the day come that we must part, knowing that I was able to help you heal.”

Nicholas did not know why but he felt angry that she had to bring the subject to forefront. But Carmel had a genuine heart. She was a rare one who had both the courage to face the world full of men chasing after her for her money and the heart to care for those she thought deserved it.

Carmel was shaking her head. “But there are still those short moments when I can see that you are simply wearing a façade. I do not think I appreciate that at all.”

“You make me happy enough to want to be, love,” he honestly said. He cupped her face with one hand.

Carmel gave him a warm smile. “I truly hope so, Nicholas, for I fear for this party.”

He frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”

She shook her head. “Perhaps I will tell you later. Now, go and be with your family. I have a ball to go to as well, my lord. My suitors are waiting.”

Nicholas chuckled as he walked to the door. “They will all go home bawling in tears, my dear,” he said in laughter.

He stealthily made his way back to the chamber he shared with Ralph and prepared for the ball.

Whatever Carmel was talking about, he undoubtedly agreed with her. He feared for this party as well. It was, after all, where everything beautiful and horrible started.

XVIII. Gossip in the Gaming Room

It was barely noticeable that there were fewer guests in the Theobald weekend party this year. It was still attended by many affluent identities, most of them there to witness the Theobalds themselves and see for themselves the secret bastard that was no longer a secret.

Most of the gossipmongers were huddled together in their own circles, eyes alert wherever a sign of a Theobald might be. Not merely were they curious as to why Lady Rachel Theobald herself considered Maxine as her own, they were also astounded by the fact that the affection between the two was rather genuine in nature.

Some were focused on the Everards, of course, particularly Maxwell. He was, after all, married to the Theobald bastard.

Many were still of want of Lord Eustace Theobald’s attention as well. He was the father of Maxine, after all. They did not saunter away when he joined their circles. In fact, they clamored to get into his. All for one reason, of course: who is the true mother of the bastard?

It was a very tight secret, one that was protected by not merely the Theobalds but by the Everards as well.

Maxine’s mother was from a very affluent family, one that would not appreciate should it ever be mentioned. The Trilbys, after all, was amongst those who would not tolerate any association with a scandal.

“You ought to congratulate yourself, Samuel,” Nicholas uttered under his breath. “The article you published may have very well saved your sister’s reputation.”

Almost two years ago, Samuel had publicly announced his family’s devotion to Maxine, condemning almost the entire population of the Town in a very astounding way. “As a matter of fact, you do have quite a good following since then. Your opinions on matters are being the talk of town.”

Samuel shrugged as he looked at the dancing couples in the middle of the ballroom. “It might not be for long.”

Nicholas frowned at him. “Why so?”

A smile curved Samuel’s lips, his eyes alight with a mixture of mischief and excitement. “They may find my next piece too hard to swallow that they might regret reading it while breaking their fast.” He drew a breath and added, “I know I have gained some ire after my Miss Mulligan letter, but I have more to say.”

Ralph came back from the refreshment table just in time to hear his friend’s last statement. “Do not be too overwhelmed by the more positive response on your articles, Samuel,” he warned, drinking from his glass. “Should things turn bad, these people who praise you for your bravery shall all disappear to save themselves.”

“I know what I am doing, Ralph,” Samuel snapped. “Like you, I fight for a cause.”

Nicholas slowly retreated from the conversation, focusing his attention on finding each member of his family.

Ysabella was dancing with her husband; his mother with Margaret and Cole in a group of friendly companions; Maxine and Maxwell with Lord Theobald and Maxine and Samuel’s eldest brother, Gabriel, and his wife who was earnestly talking with Lady Theobald; Benedict, their eldest,was with his wife, alone in one corner, talking with three gentlemen who, in Nicholas’ knowledge, were beneficiaries of Agatha’s school for servants; Levi and his wife, Victoria, were with Emma, listening to her talk. Emma’s gloves were gone, her dance card empty. Nicholas mentally shook his head. No matter, his sister was quite content to not be amongst the young ladies her age dancing the waltz with prospective husbands.

When he realized Ralph and Samuel were still talking about the consequences of free expression, Nicholas uttered, “Excuse me, gentlemen, while I find myself a more entertaining circle.” When the two ignored him, engrossed in their banter, Nicholas nudged Ralph. “I am leaving to the gaming room. If the two of you are done talking about saving humankind, you are welcome to join.”

“I will be gaming with Samuel and his other writer friends in another gaming room. You are welcome to join us,” Ralph replied.

Nicholas shook his head for two reasons. One, he did not know how he could survive a night with the writers. Two, he knew Ralph was merely planning to spy on them in hopes of hearing more about the Herald and its owner. And although Nicholas was curious as well, he knew it was no longer his concern. He was not a Town Guard and most definitely not a Leaguer.

He ought to enjoy the Theobald party.

Nicholas looked for Carmel around the ballroom but she was absent. He saw her earlier with her friends but she must have found the ball rather dire as expected.

He walked over to join Emma, Levi and Victoria, leaving Ralph and Samuel to their discussion.

“Will you be all right with Levi?” he asked their youngest when he reached them.

“I will be far more all right should Mother allow me to go back to my chamber and rest,” she uttered with a wave of her hand. “But since that is highly unlikely, I will content myself with Levi’s presence as I assume you are about to ask to be relieved of your task to guard over me?”

Victoria chuckled beside Emma while Nicholas shared a look with Levi. “She is too wise,” he uttered to Levi before turning to Emma. “You are too wise. Mellow it down or you shall never find a husband.”

“I will never marry.”

“You always say that,” said Nicholas. “So did Benedict when he was younger. And Levi. And Maxwell. And even Margaret. Ysa is an exception, of course.”

Levi was shaking his head while Emma fumed. “Speak not in finality, dear sister. You will never know when it strikes.”

“What strikes?”

Victoria laughed.

“You mean love?” Emma frowned. “It strikes?”

“And hitches on you like a bloody saddle,” Levi nodded.

“That is a rather odd way to explain how love is.”

“Well, for one, you ought to also know that it strikes, sticks and stings,” Nicholas said with a laugh.

“It stings?” Emma asked, her face slowly draining of color.

“It is not as horrible as you think,” said Victoria, “or rather as how Nicholas paints it to be.”

Nicholas shrugged. “But fret not, Emma,” he said, patting his sister’s shoulder, “should it sting, you have five brothers to beat the soul out of the man.”

Emma swallowed. “If it stings, I believe I would demand more than a fair beating.”

“Oh dear,” Victoria said with a gasp, “you have been around your brothers far too long, Emma.”

“Well, if someone ever makes me love him, he ought to make certain it stays that way,” she uttered.

Nicholas chuckled. “You have much to learn, Emma.” He walked away before he heard more of his sister’s questions.

---

Carmel later found him in one of the gaming rooms. She was escaping a game of Faro, she had said, as she settled beside him, entertaining him with stories known only to women in the ball while Nicholas played a game of cards with three other gentlemen.

Another great quality of Carmel was that she could engage with men without being the center of mockery. She could enjoy their companion while gaining their respects.

After a few more rounds of cards, Nicholas had started to relax.

Until Durley’s name was mentioned.

“I am telling you, what Durley has done might outweigh the Theobald scandal. Bloody hell, he could be considered their savior!” one lord guffawed from another table.

“But it is no surprise to learn he has a mistress, my lord,” another replied. “They saunter into gaming rooms and we all are aware of their secrets.”

“Some men consider the Theobald party as a chance to have a tryst with their mistresses,” one added.

Nicholas and Carmel shared a look. She shrugged, stifling a laugh.

“Ah, but this is not just any mistress, boy!” The lord’s voice boomed around the room, gaining everyone’s attention. Before Nicholas could react or make conclusions, the man added, “The woman is colored! Colored! And she has a dog! I saw them moments ago which is why I am here. I had to escape that bloody room!”

Nicholas was amongst the men who went still in their seats, but perhaps he was the only one who went cold. He felt Carmel’s gaze on him.

“I wanted to tell you but I was not certain,” she whispered beside him.

His jaw clenched. He did not blame her, of course. She was not Sophia’s keeper.

“At first I thought he came here with a servant dressed in a pretty gown! But she is his bloody mistress. I am telling you, the Town is turning insane!” the lord continued to say as everyone’s attention focused on him. “A white man with a colored mistress is simply atrocious.”

“It must be one of the many women he kept in Rock’oles,” a man Nicholas was acquainted with said thoughtfully. “Whiston, you are a member of the place, are you not?”

“A long time ago, yes,” Nicholas managed to reply.

Heads turned to face him. “Have you heard of a colored woman?”

Clenching his jaw, Nicholas forced an easy smile. His eyes spotted a familiar face from across the room. “Why not ask Brewer? He is also a member.” The young fellow’s face went scarlet as the attention of everyone else turned to him.

“Perhaps you must leave and find yourself and relax,” Carmel suggested beside him, taking his cards from his hand. “I will win this round for you, my lord.”

Nicholas stood to his feet without an argument and left the room.

---

Sophia was led by Marcus to her bedchamber.

He did not take her to the ball itself, but to a certain gaming room where he expected Osegod to be.

She did not grace the ball itself but she felt that she did a thousand times. She did not dance or talked with anyone, but it felt as if her entire body was drained of energy.

She had merely sauntered into a gaming room and it made Sophia wonder what would become of her on the morrow when she eventually had to.

Marcus was quiet the entire time. Sophia walked toward her dressing table and began to blindly pull the pins from her hair. She was ready to retire for the night.

“What are you planning to do now, Marcus?” she asked. “Surely you have one that you can share with me. You have risked your reputation by taking me here, the purpose of which is the only thing I know of. The rest, I am afraid, baffles me still.”

Her brother walked up to her and planted his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her temple and said, “You do not have to know everything, Sophia. It will merely put you in graver danger.”

“You have said it too many times. Blind faith, yes?”

His hands squeezed her shoulders tenderly. “Yes, my dear. Blind faith for now. You have done enough being here.”

She frowned. “You know I care not for what they think of me. I care for what they might think of you.”

“They already think the worse of me, my dear. Those who think know me, that is. I’ve destroyed many lives to reach where I am now. And I am not done.”

Sophia sighed. “Oh, Marcus. I do pray you can stop and we can both live somewhere far and be at peace. I may not know every detail of your plan and you claim it is to protect me, but know that not knowing all is making me weary all the same.”

Marcus removed his hands from her shoulders and walked around to face her. “I made a promise to your mother and I shall keep it. Remember what they did, Sophia. We cannot simply let them get away with it.”

Sophia shook her head. “But I don’t remember. I don’t.”

Her brother was silent for a while before his cold voice uttered, “Then you are lucky.”

Giving her cheek a light pat, he left the chamber without another word.

Finally alone, Sophia sighed.

Aabha came to her and she petted him while she stared at the reflection of herself on the mirror. Whatever she looked like, she knew she would never find out. For a moment she wondered if the men in the gaming room earlier found her beautiful as Nicholas did.

With a scoff, she shook her head.

But it was too late to lock away the memories, especially tonight when she was too tired.

Nicholas Everard was here. She knew he was. The entire Everard family was here to support the Theobalds.

Her eyes watered at the thought of Nicholas somewhere in the manor. Suddenly pictures of him flashed in her eyes. The shadows on his face as he stood under the light in the woods in Wickhurst appeared before her. Tears rolled as his voice filled the air. Her eyes closed as she remembered how his lips felt against her lips, teasing her as he whispered, “Then I promise to take you under a gigantic hole. Will you allow me to kiss you then? If I take you to the brightest place in the Town?”

Sophia cried in silence. Aabha whimpered beside her.

She was too tired to even think of anything else other than Nicholas.

She was simply too tired.

---

“I see yer awake,” the man’s voice whispered as Sophia opened her eyes with the same darkness and intense pain.

She closed her eyes again and when she opened them she realized a man was hovering above her, his foul breath reeked the air, his big form trapping her against the bed as he rammed his hips between her thighs.

Sophia began to struggle, confused of reality. She was dreaming, she thought. This could not be happening again. She was having another nightmare.

She was about to scream to force herself to wake up when the pounding softened and the man’s hold loosened. His hands began to caress her body, calming her. He bent his head to whisper sweet words in her ear, taking her with great patience and tenderness.

Sophia’s hands moved on their own, settling over familiar contours, sliding down planes her mind and body knew too well.

She did not have to open her eyes to see his shadowed face for she knew who he was. He was kissing her temple, her eyes, her nose and her lips.

Sophia sighed and relaxed in her sleep.

Nicholas…

Sophia woke up a while later, not drenched in sweat but with an odd sense of calm. A bitter smile crossed her lips. She may never have Nicholas, but he had saved her from countless nightmares since he left. It was all she would ever have of him after all.

Aabha was whining when Sophia padded toward the washstand. The dog rushed toward the door and started barking.

“Hush, Aabha,” she said but the dog kept making distractive noises. Sophia sighed. Like her, Aabha was not accustomed to new surroundings. “Very well,” she uttered, walking toward the door. “You guide the way but do be certain you lead us both back to our chamber,” she warned as she swung the door open.

The dog jumped restlessly in excitement while Sophia rushed for her coat. The corridors were already free of noise. Perhaps everyone was already asleep?

Sophia allowed Aabha to guide her down numerous turns and down a staircase. From one of the corridors they passed by, she heard noises of laughing men. A gaming room, of course.

When they reached the hallway to the side exit that led to the gardens, Sophia hesitated. But Aabha kept on, stopping every once in a while to wait for her.

Finally they reached the gardens and Sophia smiled as she saw a hint of light that came from the nearest hole. She and Aabha let themselves be guided by the light until they were almost under one hole. She reached out and saw her arm wrapped in moonlight. It was not the same warm light she saw in the woods in Wickhurst, but it was still marvelous.

As Aabha ran around freely, Sophia let her. It would be best if Aabha was drained of energy as they both had to suffer two more nights of restless sleep in Theobald. They would not have the same freedom during daytime after all.

But something made a sound from behind that gave Sophia a hint that they were not alone. A presence.

She veered her head to the right as if to sense more. The sound of footsteps against the uneven ground confirmed Sophia’s suspicion.

Her heart began to hammer and for a second she prayed that Aabha had enough energy to attack their soon-to-be attacker.

But whatever thoughts she had all flew up and out of the hole above them as Nicholas’ cold voice uttered, “Fancy seeing you here, Sophia.”

A/N:

Please be informed that next updates might be a bit late as I am going out of town for the Davao Summer Meet-up. I will try to write while I am there (5 days). The usual frequency of updates shall resume once I am back. Thank you!

XIX. Once Upon a Card Game

Sophia whirled away from his voice, everything else she had been dreaming about every night numbing down to naught but dread. Suddenly she felt lost, overwhelmingly losing awareness of her surrounding, making it impossible for her to know where she was facing or where she ought to go.

Yet Sophia moved forward. Wherever her feet were taking her, she hardly cared. She could faintly hear Aabha running toward her, but that awareness disappeared as well when she crashed against a hard surface.

She stumbled back and would have fallen on the ground should she not have caught herself. She turned the other way but Nicholas blocked her path again.

When she turned to escape him again, she felt a strong grip around her right arm. He pulled her closer to him, not entirely strong but with enough strength for Sophia to catch her breath.

“And since we are here, Sophia,” Nicholas rasped above her, his breath brushing over her face, “Would you care to share what your master is planning?”

Sophia pulled at her arm. “Let go of me, my lord.” She hated that she sounded begging.

He clucked his tongue and the hairs on Sophia’s neck stood. Was he mocking her? Was he wearing a smile, enjoying the sight of her panic state?

“Surely you do have a plan, Sophia,” he continued, his hold firm around her arm. “Your lover finally came out to society and enjoys a celebrated status. And he brought you along with him. Now, tell me, dear, what his plans are.”

Sophia bit her lips to keep from saying anything. Words would merely ignite Nicholas’ apparent anger.

“Are you too much devoted to him to allow him to do his deeds?” When she turned her face away, he added, “Or perhaps you are making the plans along with him. There must be something brewing underneath all this scandalous display,” he finished scathingly, letting go of her hand with a slight push.

The ideal thing to do was run away but her feet were frozen to the ground.

“You never wanted to leave Rock’oles. But you are here now. Planning to seduce another lord to do your bidding?” He was mocking her. It was evident in the anger intricately laced in his tone. But Sophia persisted on her silence as it was the only way she could keep the tears from flowing. “How many have you taken to bed after me? Did you also feign to have nightmares when in bed with them? Do they comfort you? Allow them to think of you as a victim so you can manipulate them the way you did me?”

Sophia’s lips quivered slightly. She pursed them to maintain a blank mien.

You have scared away my nightmares, Nick. I hope I can tell you that.

“You must enjoy the attention Durley provides you. But as you can see, he is not here now. He allowed you to wander around in your condition.”

Sophia swallowed. She had to make him go away. “No,” she managed to say, “I knew you would come and find me.”

It was one of the rare moments she was thankful she could not see him.

“But think this not as a trap, my lord. Would you like a tryst?” She managed a smile.

A long silence followed that Sophia began to think he had already left. “I sought you out for one thing, Sophia,” he uttered, his form stepping away from her. “I am aware that you would dare not answer my questions. I simply wanted to relay a message.”

“Of course,” she said, her empty smile threatening to fade.

“You will fall with Durley.” His voice was filled with raw fury, sending a chill up her spine. “I swear it on the name of the people you ruined. You will get what you deserve and more, my dear, and I will be there to witness it.”

Sophia clung to her wavering smile as Nicholas made a sharp turn and his footsteps faded as he left.

Sophia’s smile quivered but she forced herself to remain calm until she was certain he was gone. “Aabha,” she called out, her voice shaking. The dog came to her, panting with excitement. “Lead the way back, Aabha,” she whispered but the dog did not move. It snuggled its head against her skirts, comforting her.

It was then that Sophia broke down.

Her shoulders started to shake as she dropped to the ground to wrap her arms around Aabha. Perhaps she could spare a few minutes to cry.

---

Nicholas did not leave. He stood at the entrance of the gardens and watched as Sophia bent down to hug her dog. He frowned when she started to shake.

Was she crying?

He shook his head. Sophia was too vicious to know he was lingering, fool that he was.

She was giving him a show, of course.

Manipulation was her turf.

With a bitter scoff, Nicholas turned around to find his brother.

She could lose herself around the Theobald grounds and he would merely be happy to hear the men in the gaming room gossip about it later.

Wasting no time, Nicholas found his way to the bedchamber assigned to him and Ralph. He barged inside and found his brother struggling with his cravat, eyes half-closed.

“Are you foxed or sleepy?” he asked Ralph. When his brother muttered under his breath in reply, Nicholas strode toward him. “Good. You’re foxed. You are far more useless when sleepy.”

Ralph muttered something again.

“What?”

“I asked why you are here. I was hoping you’d spend the night with Carmel.”

He ignored the question, saying, “Durley and Sophia are here,” instead.

“I am aware of that.” Ralph cursed, throwing his cravat to the nearest chair. “I need to sleep.”

Nicholas frowned. “What do you do about this?”

“Nothing,” his brother replied, pulling at the covers of the bed. “I am taking the larger bed. As the brother who is spending his nights without limbs wrapped around him, I deserve a good one,” he announced.

“Ralph, Durley is planning something. He took that wench here for something,” Nicholas insisted.

Ralph shrugged and scoffed. “The League has ordered the Guards not to meddle in the slavery case.”

“That is not how your thoughts operated hours ago when you were sober,” he reminded, irked.

A big yawn escaped his brother. Ralph settled in the middle of the bed and gazed at him drowsily. “Dare I point out, Nick, that your main concern is not the case or Durley but the fact that the woman is here?”

Nicholas stiffened. Should he consider strangling his brother now? Even a foxed Guard would not be physically capable to fight back. Now was truly his chance to commit murder.

Ralph lay on the bed and pulled at the covers. “But since the League has temporarily ceased their investigations on Durley, I can take him as my temporary mission. In secret.”

“Bloody tarnation, Ralph. How many times would you change your mind on this matter?”

“That shall depend on the spirit. Those bloody writers drink way too much than the Guards, I tell you.”

Nicholas shook his head. “You are even more incapable when foxed. I’ll be spending the night with Carmel after all.”

Ralph did not reply as he was already snoring.

---

“I heard your mother is looking for you, my lord,” Carmel said to him, settling in a chair beside his. She checked the cards in his hand and smiled at the gentleman he was playing with. “You might have a chance to win this round, my lord. Lord Whiston’s hand is not very good.”

The man laughed. Nicholas was about to say a playful jest about escaping his mother and Carmel’s spying on his cards when the door opened and Durley entered the room. When his companion appeared, everyone fell silent. A few dropped their jaws as they gaped at the striking beauty wrapped in a blue silver gown.

Her dark skin was a contrast to the glittering fabric. Her face was as beautiful as he remembered it from last night and the many more he shared with her.

He hated her, but he also hated the fact that she was now here for everyone to see and gawk on. He hated her presence but he also hated that she had to suffer this bloody room. For that was what would happen.

What the bloody hell was Durley thinking!

Carmel placed her hand over his shoulder, reminding him that he ought to keep his calm.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Durley said with a bright smile. He looked around the room and his eyes went alight when he saw a familiar face. “Ah, there you are, Baldwin,” he said, greeting the portly man who stuttered, saying, “Lord D-Durley…”

“Come, Sophia,” Durley said, gently leading Sophia toward Baldwin.

Nicholas ignored the ringing in his ears and focused his eyes on his cards. He could not bloody remember what he intended to throw moments ago. Carmel managed an awkward chuckle as she reached out to pluck three cards from his hand and threw it on the table.

“Not fair!” said the lord as he gaped at Carmel.

Nicholas could not hear their conversation. His senses were directed to naught but one woman who seemed to be unaware that he was in the room. Or perhaps she knew.

His eyes sauntered to where she was seated with Durley, facing Baldwin. The other men in the room were trying to regain the previous air before the newcomers arrived but with great failure. The bloody bastards could not keep their eyes away from Sophia.

Ah, if only they knew she could not enjoy their attention for she was bloody blind!

“My lord, I believe this is not the time for you to lose this game,” Carmel whispered in his ear, forcing him to turn his attention away from Sophia and Durley.

His eyes met hers. Carmel smiled and gave his shoulder a light pat.

He shook his head and drew a breath. Of course, he could try to enjoy the rest of the game. And then he would leave and find another gaming room.

But before Nicholas could make himself comfortable again, the door to the gaming room opened. His jaw tightened when he saw the last person next to Sophia he did not want to lay his eyes on.

Osegod.

Nicholas’ jaw tightened when Osegod’s dark blue eyes settled on him for a moment before he turned away to address the greetings from the gentlemen in the room. Everyone wanted to have a word with the Head of the Town Leaders, wanting to gain his attention and discuss important matters.

Osegod was aging quite well more than the men his age. His built had not gone portly, his good looks still evident despite a few strands of grey hair. The way he carried himself was as expected of a Town Leader—powerful, confident and pleasant.

What most did not know was the secrets Osegod kept, ones that could not be proven by the Leagues and the Guards—ones the Everards knew quite well. Why did the Theobalds invite him? Were they not aware of what this bloody bastard did to Maxine? And how in the bloody hell did Maxwell allow it?

Nicholas massaged the back of his neck and frowned at his cards. The young lord he was playing with seemed to not be interested in Osegod’s presence but on Carmel who was currently talking about how she hated gossipmongers and stockings.

To be in the same room as the people who had caused his family terrible things was more than Nicholas could handle. He was about to announce a yield when he noticed that Durley had stood up to share a word with Osegod. The two men laughed at something Durley had said, giving way for everyone else to return to their seats and resume their games. The Town Leader’s attention was caught by the famous new lord from nowhere. They better go back to their games and pretend they were not disappointed.

Nicholas frowned when Durley led Sophia to Osegod and presented her to him. Osegod, in return, bowed and gave Sophia’s gloved hand a kiss.

That took everyone’s attention again, but only this time they were paying Sophia more attention. Their eyes followed her as she walked back to sit across Baldwin. Durley and Osegod joined them moments later.

Nicholas looked around the room. What the bloody hell was happening?

The answer, of course, came an hour later when Osegod and Durley stood up, making an excuse to share a cigar outside. By this time, Osegod was looking rather serious while Durley kept his calm and easy character.

It would not have been a surprise if one or two more gentlemen stood up to join them but Nicholas was left baffled when they left with no company, leaving Sophia and Baldwin behind.

As the men in the gaming room continued to stare at her, a few even standing up to walk toward her, Nicholas then realized why Sophia was here.

Her purpose was to distract everyone. She was here to make certain that Durley and Osegod’s activities remained unnoticed.

“This shall not turn out very good,” he heard the young man he was playing with say in a bored tone. Nicholas knew what he was talking about for he could see it coming.

He could see them walking toward her like she was a piece of art they could buy and enjoy for themselves. Nicholas could almost see what they were thinking, the pictures in their heads as they approached the unknowing Sophia and Baldwin.

“Excuse me, Miss, but I must have missed an introduction,” one of the lords said, standing beside Sophia’s chair.

“She was not introduced to you, Baltimore,” said Baldwin. “Miss Sophia is rather occupied as you can see.”

“What? With a game of cards?” said the man, laughing. “I was not aware her people are taught how to play! I must have been missing quite a lot of things happening in the Town!”

Baldwin ignored the man and simply grumbled under his breath. He appeared to be more uncomfortable to be at her company and be a gentleman than by the unwanted attention they were getting from everyone else.

Nicholas knew Sophia could not very well prove she could play a card game. She could hardly make out shapes!

“Say, Miss Sophia—that is your name, is it not?” barked one man from one corner. He had turned on his chair to call out on Sophia.

“Yes, my lord,” was Sophia’s soft and calm reply.

“Say, Miss Sophia, since your master is currently indisposed, would you care to accept a few offers?”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened. He felt Carmel’s hand on his arm, giving him a squeeze.

When Sophia did not reply, the lord stood from his chair and joined the others crowding around her. “We pay as handsomely as Durley does, fret not, dear,” he said, hands in his pockets. “Although I hear that your people do not truly bother with townsends. A plate of food and a glass of water are most often sufficient.”

“I would not mind to bother giving her a feast,” Baltimore said with a sneer, looking down on Sophia with eyes glimmering with raw lust. “With what you can offer me, I would gladly be generous. Perhaps I can ask my wife to keep the leavings from one of our meals.”

Some men laughed while others awkwardly looked away.

Nicholas made a sharp turn in his seat but Carmel stopped him, whispering, “We must leave, Nicholas. You cannot be involved in this.”

But Nicholas could not hear her, nor could he ignore the sexually insulting comments that boiled a seething anger inside him. Brushing Carmel’s hand aside, he stood up and straightened his cravat, loudly clearing his throat.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I believe you are causing discomfort amongst some of us,” he addressed Baltimore’s circle. The men snapped their heads to glare at him but Nicholas did not notice as he saw Sophia stiffen in surprise at his voice.

Ah, perhaps she was not aware he was in the room after all.

He walked toward the group of men, his footsteps easy and calm despite the fury surging inside him. “A woman, no matter her color or disposition, gentlemen, should be treated with respect,” he uttered with a smile. He stared at the back of Sophia’s head before returning his gaze to the men surrounding her. He stepped between the men and Sophia’s table. He threw her a look and saw her calm demeanor which bolstered his anger. How could she act calm? Was she too used to such insults to not feel inclined to defend herself?

Turning to face the men again, he said, “If you wish to discuss what Miss Sophia has to offer, you may do so in private. Considering that you lot seems to not be members of Rock’oles, I ought to bring forth very important information about the place. Should the women want you, they go to you. You do not force yourself unto them like desperate, hungry dogs. Discreetness is of utmost priority in Rock’oles and Miss Sophia is not used to such vulgar negotiations.”

As he finished his sentence, he turned to find the something flash across Sophia’s eyes.

Hurt.

But before he could confirm it, she stood to her feet and turned to stare at the men before her as though she could see through their very soul. “I would love to discuss negotiations, gentlemen,” she said, haughtily lifting her chin, “but I am currently indisposed as I am here solely to serve one lord and that is Lord Durley. Perhaps you would consider becoming members of Rock’oles where we can continue discussing about sumptuous feasts. And for future reference, I would like to say that I do not accept table scraps.”

Nicholas almost scoffed with incredulity and awe.

Sophia managed a small curtsy before she stiffly turned, intending to walk out of the room. Since she had been expertly masking her slight blindness, no one knew she was blind. But if she continued her walk, she would have been found out for she was heading straight to a bloody wall.

Nicholas pushed his way through the stunned gentlemen and rushed toward Sophia and grabbed her by the arm before she could make a spectacle of herself.

“Allow me to escort you to the door, Miss Sophia,” he said for everyone to hear.

Guiding her to the right direction, he opened the door and whispered, “This is what you get for setting yourself so low.” He saw her shoulders stiffen. He gave her a slight push and added, “Now, do be on your way and find Durley. And tell him never to take you back here for everyone to feast on.” As she stepped into the corridor, Nicholas could not help but add, “Or better yet, go back to Rock’oles where you belong.”

---

Marcus found her outside the gaming room. She could not bring herself to leave for her feet could hardly move without failing her.

“What are you doing here? I left you with Baldwin. Where is that bastard?” her brother demanded.

“You left me in a room full of bastards, Marcus, what did you expect?”

“What happened?”

She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. Squaring her shoulders, Sophia forced a smile. “Nothing I could not handle is what happened.” She frowned and narrowed her eyes at her brother’s form. “Where is Lord Osegod?”

“Gone. We shall discuss things further later. We cannot risk raising suspicion.”

“What did he want to discuss?”

Marcus’ reply was too delayed for her to believe. “Business, of course.”

Sophia struggled to ask for more but this was not the time or the place to demand for Marcus’ plans.

“Are you ready?” asked Marcus, taking her elbow and turning her to the other end of the corridor.

“You mean the ball?” she asked. No, she was not ready, but she could force herself to suffer a bit longer.

“We can go back to your chamber if you wish to freshen—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “We should at least have this over with. Be done kissing Osegod’s feet so we can go home, Marcus.”

A/N:

I am back from my trip! Updates shall resume from now on.

XX. Threats

“Surely Lord Durley cannot be that all bad!” Nicholas heard Ysabella utter. His two sisters, Ysabella and Emma, were secretly staring across the ballroom, their eyes flickering from one point to another. “And so is his mistress, poor thing! Everyone is gawking at her! Just look!”

Nicholas followed the direction of their gaze and found Durley talking to Osegod while Sophia lingered merely a few paces away, enough to draw everyone’s attention on her and not on Durley. She was wearing the same gown she was wearing earlier in the gaming room, her face unreadable yet beautifully out of place.

“Lady Gedge is coming her way!” Ysabella hissed at Emma.

“That woman knows everything but her rightful place,” Emma growled back.

It was too late when Nicholas realized what his sisters were about to do when they suddenly jumped to their feet and crossed squeezed their way through the crowd in their gallant attempt to rescue a woman they did not even know.

“Bloody hell!” he cursed under his breath, rushing after his sisters, but his mother’s voice called out to him. When he deliberately ignored the call, a hand grabbed his arm and he turned to find Lady Alice beaming up at him. “I have a very important task for you, son,” she uttered.

Nicholas craned his neck to find his sisters. They were already making their way toward Sophia who was slowly being surrounded by Lady Gedge, Wickhurst’s biggest gossipmonger, and her friends.

“Mother, I am afraid I am quite occupied at the moment. See, your two daughters are currently—”

“Oh, let them be. Ysabella is a married woman and Emma ought to learn from her. Now, come with me and I have something for you to do.”

His mother pushed him to the right.

“Mother, I do not think Ysabella is the best teacher Emma can learn from—”

“Now, son,” her mother continued, not hearing his words, leaning close to him in a conspiratorial manner, “I believe you and your brothers are not too fond of Osegod, but we must at the very least be nice to him—”

“I do not understand what you are trying to do, Mother. If you wish me to dance with the man, I have to consider that you are starting to go senile.”

His mother lightly slapped his arm in warning. “Do be serious, Nicholas. Now, as I was saying, Benedict might have refused Lord Ransford’s offer to be a partner in our trade. And of course, I do not know the secret you and your siblings are keeping from me, but I trust that it does not include Lord Ransford’s daughter.”

Nicholas frowned at his mother. She was as perceptive as Maxwell and it still amazed all of them to this day. He was not certain how much she knew about Osegod, but they must consider the fact that they did were not raised by a foolish mother.

“Mother, whatever misunderstanding Osegod has with—” he paused when her last words finally dawned on him. “What daughter?”

Lady Alice gave him a knowing smile as she turned him face another direction. “Her, son.”

Nicholas frowned at the crowd, not quite certain where his mother wanted him to look. But he soon found who she was referring to when he spotted a woman standing idly in one corner wearing a dark blue gown that almost resembled the wall. A few feet away was Osegod himself. Nicholas returned his gaze to the woman.

There was no mistaking it. She had the same dark hair, square jaw and thin lips. She was not striking, but something in her spoke volume of her character—strong and confident. She was not dressed to impress anyone. She simply carried herself in such manner that despite being alone in one corner with her hands clasped in front of her, one could not easily come forward and make light of her.

“Dance with her.”

“Bloody hell, Mother,” Nicholas groaned, tearing his eyes away from the woman. “She is too bloody intimidating.”

His mother’s eyes flickered with warning. “Language, Nicholas.” She turned to steal a glance at the woman before returning her gaze at him. “Deana Osegod has been standing in that same corner for hours. Now, go forth and ask for a dance.”

Nicholas was already shaking his head. He started to turn but his mother’s hand pulled him back.

“One dance and you shall never hear me ask anything of you again,” his mother said.

“What do you get from this in return, Mother?” he asked. “Is this simply charity work? It is clear the woman is quite comfortable where she is.”

“Remember, son, that her father is the Head of the Town Leaders. We may no longer have to suffer another dinner with the man, but we should at the very least be chummy to those close to him.”

He gave his mother a doubtful look. “You are trying to play politics, Mother.”

Lady Alice smiled, one that reminded him of the twins when they were up to something. “I believe they call it the Art of War, son. Now, go and dance with Deana Osegod. Charm her but dare not act as the rakehell that you are. Simply make her an acquaintance.”

Nicholas groaned as his mother pushed him away. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Ysabella and Emma had finally reached their goal. Ysabella was whispering something in Lady Gedge’s ear while Emma was trying to start a conversation with Sophia.

He also realized that Osegod and Durley had disappeared from the ballroom.

Bloody tarnation.

His eyes returned to Deana Osegod and he groaned furthermore.

Why did he have to leave the bloody gaming room?

---

“Do not mind the stares, dear,” one of the ladies whispered to her.

Sophia stumbled in her feet but a strong hand was holding her arm, helping with her balance.

Wherever Marcus was, he ought to rescue her at once!

Two women had suddenly presented themselves to her and quite forced her to walk with them in the gardens. As someone who had never been in a ball, Sophia thought a walk in the gardens was customary.

And a way to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

“They were not simply staring if I may be honest,” the other voice said. “They were gawking.”

The two women were almost dragging her along an even ground. Sophia could not entirely tell them that she did not mind the stares or the gawking for she could not see them. It was best to keep her silence. There was no one to trust in this party.

“You ought to thank us for saving you from Lady Gedge,” said the other voice. “She and her friends almost reached you earlier.”

“She does not seem to believe you,” said the other.

“Oh, well, she must!” the other voice answered. “I have saved many ladies from that woman’s unwavering gossip mongering.”

“Truly?” the other voice asked with suspicion.

“Of course! I did save Maxine, if you must know. Lady Gedge learned about her before anyone else did. I stopped her before she could tell any of her friends!” The woman clucked her tongue. “The Theobald parties are the birth of many scandals.”

Sophia was listening intently while counting her steps. Perhaps she could stop walking and the two ladies would not even notice. The two kept talking about the many scandals that happened in Theobald in the past, too engrossed in their conversation that Sophia suddenly felt quite out of place.

Soon she realized that they were talking to her. “Our sister-in-law, Lady Victoria, once found herself lost in one of the gardens. As did I but I was not truly lost. I was hiding inside a closet, see? William found me, of course.”

Sophia frowned and stopped walking, the realization of the identity of her companions slowly creeping in. She had heard these stories before. She heard them from Nicholas. “I beg your pardons, my ladies, but may I inquire who you are?”

The two women laughed. “No, we beg your pardon. We have been so impolite! My name is Ysabella and this is my sister Emma.”

“Everards.”

A short pause followed before Emma uttered, “Ah, of course you know.”

---

Asking Deana Osegod for a dance was probably the most obstinate, if not embarrassing, thing Nicholas was ever forced to do. Not only did the lady refuse his invite, she also said, quite intricately, “I do not have the time, my lord. I hope you understand,” which was incredulous for she was probably the only person in that bloody ballroom who was wasting time!

He gave his mother a shrug and exited the ballroom to find the twins before his mother could question his encounter with Osegod’s daughter.

The amused stares of those who witnessed the woman refuse Nicholas Everard was still freshly engraved in his mind.

But no matter, he ought to find the twins for they had disappeared. With Sophia!

He found them in the gardens, the three of them sitting on a bench. He did not catch Emma’s words but he clearly heard Sophia’s reply.

“I have heard many great things about you all.”

Nicholas froze in his spot.

Ysabella’s face went alight. “Truly? Surely not from the Herald. They never talk about our greatness, see?”

Sophia shook her head. “No, from a very reliable source.”

Nicholas felt his entire body tighten with fury. He did not appreciate being reminded of his foolishness.

“Truly? Who?”

“Someone I once knew.”

Suddenly he was overcome with a great sense of shame, far worse than what he felt earlier with Deana Osegod. He was indeed a total fool when he told Sophia everything about his family.

“Hmm,” Emma said, “I wonder who—”

“Ysabella, Emma,” Nicholas said, finding his voice. He walked toward the three women, noting Sophia stiffen in her seat before adding, “Mother is searching for both of you.”

“But we are keeping Miss Sophia company while—”

He did not appreciate that she introduced herself to his sisters and he showed his contempt by throwing his sisters a sharp look. “I shall escort Miss Sophia back inside the ballroom. Do be on your way now.”

“Nicholas,” Emma began, standing to her feet.

“Now, Emma.”

His sisters gave him a curious look before they both turned to Sophia and said, “We hope to make your acquaintance soon, Miss Sophia.”

Sophia merely nodded as she stood.

The twins glared at him as they walked past him on their way back to the ballroom.

Nicholas blocked Sophia’s path when she attempted to follow. He grabbed her arm and tightened his grip. He guided her back to the ballroom, walking behind his sisters without a word.

As Ysabella and Emma rushed to find their mother, Nicholas took Sophia back to where Durley had left her earlier, ignoring the curious glances from the other guests.

She had not said a word, nor had she made a sound even after he pulled her closer to him, almost twisting her arm in fury.

“You are planning something with Durley, I know it. But do keep this in mind,” he harshly whispered, “Stay away from my sisters. Stay away from my family,” he warned before letting go of her arm.

She looked away without a word and he stormed off to find a gaming room.

---

Durley came to her chamber that night, angry.

“What is the matter?”

“He threatened me.”

Sophia was not certain why Nicholas’ name came to her mind, but she soon brushed it aside. Durley was talking about Osegod. “Why?”

“He believes I have something to do with why one of his men was captured. Not one of his men in the Guards can find the man and now Osegod is in panic.”

“One of them was captured?”

“Yes, and now that man is in the hands of the League of Founders.”

Sophia’s heart began to hammer. Osegod was supposed to be trusting Marcus, not suspecting him! “What threat did he give you?”

Marcus swore under his breath. “The truth.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “How did he know? How did he find out?”

Marcus was pacing the room, his hands on his hips. She had seen him act like this too many times in the past. He was not one who liked his plans shaken. “I do not know. Spies, I don’t know.”

“But we have been careful, Marcus.”

“Not careful enough after all,” he said. “He also asked me for something in exchange of his silence.”

“What?”

“Who,” he corrected. “You.”

Sophia let the silence linger for a while as she herself began to think. “Marcus, I can—”

“No!” her brother erupted. “God, Sophia! I did not take you under my care to offer you as pawn in my plans! I have lost my entire family. I will not lose you too. I made a promise to your mother. It is enough that you have to suffer this bloody party.”

“This is part of the plan and I have long prepared myself for this. We have prepared for such parties like this, Marcus, but not this threat from Osegod. He is on to you because of what happened a year ago. He must think you have other plans for trying to stop that ambush. I was partly at fault although I do not regret having begged you to do it. I am willing to play Osegod’s game while you come up with a better plan.” Marcus was already shaking his head before she finished. “I might be of help. I might serve as your spy on Osegod. We cannot allow him to tell them everything, Marcus. The ton will no longer see you as they do now. Everything will be ruined.”

Marcus held up his hand to silence her. He was thinking.

“What are you planning, Marcus?”

Her brother made a sharp turn and started for the door. “Prepare your things. We are leaving tonight.”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to provide Osegod something other than you. Get ready. I shall return shortly.”

---

Sophia started to worry when Marcus failed to return after nearly an hour.

Aabha watched as she paced around her room, biting her lower lip.

Did something go wrong?

Dread washed over her as she moved to the door. Aabha followed her out in the corridor.

Bending down, Sophia whispered, “Lead me to Marcus, Aabha.”

The dog barked and excitedly sniffed the floor.

Sophia carefully followed the dog’s steps until they reached the end of the corridor that branched out to two more. As Aabha followed Marcus’ scent, Sophia tried to focus her attention on the shadows.

Aabha finally barked and ran off to the right corridor.

“Aabha!” Sophia hissed, trying to catch up. “Aabha!” she called out again when the dog disappeared to another corridor.

Sophia began to panic as she lost sight of Aabha’s shadow.

She began to run but she felt something—or someone following her from behind. She quickened her steps and tried to call out for Aabha once again but her breath was snatched out of her as strong arms caught her from behind, trapping her arms in a tight embrace.

Her scream was quickly muffled by a cloth over her nose and mouth.

The light disappeared as darkness consumed her sight once again.

XXI. Criminal Acts

“What the bloody hell have you done!” Ralph demanded, hissing at Nicholas.

Be brushed his brother aside and went straight to the bed where he deposited Sophia’s limp form. She did not even stir.

“Nick, have you gone insane!” Ralph frantically asked, following him to the bed. He was half-dressed, his torso bare, ready to go to bed.

Nicholas threw his brother a wayward glance. “The dog found me,” he uttered.

“What?”

“The dog, Aabha,” he said, motioning his head to the door. “The one waiting outside the door. Go and fetch her.”

“What?”

Nicholas rolled his head with annoyance. “Fetch the bloody dog outside and let her in. Make haste before anyone sees you.”

Ralph rushed to the door while Nicholas bent down to shake Sophia awake. “Wake up,” he muttered, frowning at her pale face.

“What is going on, Nick?” Ralph asked as he shut the door close, Aabha bounding on the bed where she started to lick on Sophia’s face.

“She is waking up,” he said, noting Sophia’s movement.

His brother grabbed his arm and whirled him to face him. “What the bloody hell is happening!”

Nicholas sighed. “As I have said, brother, I found her after the dog rushed to find me.”

“Found her where?”

“In the corridor, being attacked by a man.”

Ralph’s face contorted in disbelief. “Attacked?”

Sophia moaned from the bed. Aabha whimpered beside her, resting its head on Sophia’s chest. Nicholas bent down to shake her to full consciousness and when her eyes fluttered, he breathed a sigh of relief.

But it was merely until her eyes fluttered open and she gasped in terror.

“You’re safe,” Nicholas could not help but say, bending down to whisper above her.

“Nich—Lord Whiston,” she rasped, correcting herself. She looked about the room blindly. “Where am I? How did I—”

“You were attacked in the corridor,” Nicholas supplied, straightening to full height.

Having been reminded by her attack earlier, her eyes widened and she attempted to jump out of bed. “Marcus! I have to find Marcus!” she cried out.

“Perhaps you ought to calm down first, Miss Sophia,” Ralph said gently beside Nicholas.

Sophia froze when she realized there was another person in the room with them. Her turned ashen at the mention of Ralph’s name.

“Very pleased to meet you after more than a year of your attempt to have me killed,” Ralph added with derision which Nicholas allowed. He did not take his eyes off her as his brother spoke, reading the invisible signs she was not showing.

He could not bloody hell find anything useful other than her obvious dread and panic over her lover.

Nicholas did his best to remain impassive, yet the look on Sophia’s face made his resolve waver slightly. She looked utterly distraught and lost.

Was she acting? Was she not?

“Who was the man who attacked you?” he asked, stopping her when she attempted to step away from the bed.

She shook her head. “I do not know. I do not know. Oh God, we have to find Marcus!” She tried to pull away from his grasp but Nicholas could not let her go. Not when she just regained her consciousness and most definitely while there was something going on that involved Durley.

“Where is the man?” Ralph asked.

“Escaped,” Nicholas replied. “I tried to stop him but he seems to know where to escape and I lost him.”

“Will you be able to identify him should you see him again?”

He nodded. “Ralph, perhaps you will go and find Durley?”

Sophia swallowed hard as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Please. Please find him.”

Ralph and Nicholas shared a look.

Ralph nodded and disappeared from the room to find Durley.

“I wish to—”

“No,” Nicholas interjected before she could even finish. “You sit and you answer my questions, Sophia, or I swear to God that you and Durley will have to face the entire League of Founders.”

Sophia stiffened before she stiffly nodded and dropped back on the bed.

She appeared to be struggling to keep herself from crying, yet Nicholas could not entirely believe she was not acting.

There was no telling which was true with this woman but he shall try to extract the most he could tonight.

---

“What is your purpose for coming here?” Nicholas’ voice vibrated around the dark room. “What is Osegod and Durley planning?”

Sophia shook her head. “I do not know.”

“Do not lie to me, Sophia. Are you telling me that—”

“I do not know! I swear I do not know!”

Silence engulfed the room, the only sound was Aabha’s soft growl.

“Do you truly believe I am so naïve as to believe every word you say after what you have done?”

Sophia did not respond. She had no desire to.

It would be pointless to force the truth on someone who had already decided to never believe you.

She needed to find Marcus. She had to be assured that he was safe. Whoever attacked her had escaped as Nicholas claimed and he could very well be still roaming the manor.

She ought to warn Marcus now.

“Would you like to wait for your master then?” Nicholas asked in a voice Sophia could not associate to the lover she loved. The hate he felt toward her reverberated with each word he spoke and it stung more than any of the beatings or molestations she suffered in the past. “Perhaps the two of you can spruce your lies together.”

Sophia closed her eyes and prayed that Ralph would return with Marcus. She cared not if her brother would have to face Nicholas. She cared not for anything at the moment but Marcus’ safety.

He rushed to talk with Osegod and moments later she was attacked. That could not very well be an unfortunate coincidence.

It was a deliberate attack, one that was meant to thwart Marcus. Osegod was starting to fear for something unknown. Like the good businessman and politician that he was, he wanted reassurance in their case, Sophia was the perfect one.

Should her reputation be revealed to the ton, Marcus’ celebrated status would be short-lived and everything he planned beyond Osegod would be fruitless. Osegod was merely the first step to Marcus’ plan. They could not fail now.

But it was hard not to find enough resolve when Marcus was nowhere near to reassure here and with Nicholas causing her emotions to run in havoc.

The fact that he was not moving or making noise was not helping either. Sophia tried to focus on her breathing, blocking out Nicholas’ strong presence as she prayed for Marcus to come and rescue her from this chamber.

“Fret not, Sophia, I am not touching you if that is what you are afraid of,” Nicholas snapped when she flinched at the feel of his hand on her arm. He gently moved it to the side, let it go and did the same thing with the other before he took her chin with two fingers to turn her head from side to side.

Sophia belatedly realized that he was checking her for injuries and her tears flowed before she could stop them.

“Stop crying,” he said, lifting his touch away. “I might start to take pity.”

Where had she gone wrong? Of course, she could dig countless of answers, but as she thought of her time with Nicholas, of the many nights she spent in his arms, of his stories and jests, of how he showed and taught her things, Sophia could not help but question why this had to happen to her.

Did it have to be so difficult? If she were white, if she was one of the other women in Rock’oles, would she have turned her back on her brother to accept Nicholas when he promised to take her for his wife? Would she have believed him in full if she was not colored and he could dress her in pretty gowns and flaunt her in front of everyone? If so, would she be judged less for being a woman of Rock’oles?

Her thoughts were erupted by Ralph’s sudden entrance.

“I cannot find him,” Ralph uttered.

Sophia’s heart froze in her chest. “No, he must be elsewhere. He came out to find Lord Ransford—”

“His chamber is empty. There are a few articles of clothing, but his bags are gone. It seems he left Theobald in haste.”

Her blood drained from her face and the ringing in her ears started. “No! Please! He did plan to leave, but he promised to come back for me. Something must have gone wrong. We must find him—”

“Why was he meeting with Ransford?” Nicholas asked, his voice etched with annoyance.

“I do not know. He does not tell me anything,” she said in a half-lie.

“He has left Theobald, Miss Sophia,” Ralph added.

Sophia shook her head.

“He left,” said Ralph.

“He left you,” Nicholas added. Sophia saw Ralph’s silhouette form punch Nicholas’ arm but she hardly recognized the meaning of the gesture.

“He will come for me. He promised to go back and—”

“He left, Sophia. His things are not in his chamber.”

“So is his carriage,” Ralph added.

Sophia’s breathing became heavier. Something happened to Marcus. “No, that cannot be. Something happened to him!”

“He abandoned you for the wolves to prey on and saved himself, Sophia,” Nicholas snapped and it was the first time Sophia wanted to punch him in the face. It was the first she felt she wanted to hurt him as much as she was hurting that very moment.

She wiped her tears and stuck up her chin in the air. “I want to go back to Rock’oles at this very moment,” she said, her voice shaking. She had no one else to go to but Mr. Mast. The man was the closest man Marcus trusted. He would know what to do.

Aabha jumped beside her at the mention of Rock’oles.

A long silence followed.

It was Ralph who spoke, “I believe that is the best course of action to take at the moment. I will alert the Guards of this incident for whether or not it is true that Durley left on his own volition, we still cannot discount Miss Sophia’s claims.”

Sophia’s eyes stung with tears as she croaked, “Thank you.”

“That is how I repay the kindness you and your master bestowed upon me and my fellow guards, Miss Sophia,” was the man’s cold reply before he turned. “I will have one of my fellow Guards take you back to Rock’oles immediately.”

“I will take her home,” said Nicholas. To answer the obvious unspoken question from both his brother and Sophia, he added, “You may not take it upon yourself to avenge what happened to your fellow Guards, Ralph, but we cannot say the same for the others.”

Sophia was already shaking her head. No, she could not spend more time with Nicholas when she had so much to think about.

“Very well, I will inform Mother that you have been called to Whiston for an urgent matter.”

“Irrigation,” said Nicholas.

“What?”

“Tell her I am having irrigation problems. You know mother will inquire details.” Nicholas’ shadowed form turned to her and he added, “Dare not say no, Sophia, for I shall suffer the ride back to Rock’oles as well.”

---

“What are you planning, Nick?” Ralph hissed as they waited for Sophia to emerge from her chamber. “Take her to Rock’oles yourself? Are you bloody insane? You and I both know you have another motive. What are you planning?”

Nicholas allowed a small smile on his lips. “Something very legal for a man like me, but quite criminal for a Guard to do.”

“What in bloody tarnation, Nick—”

Nicholas gave his brother a heavy pat on the back. “Do not question an older brother, Ralph. Family rule.”

“Since bloody when?”

“Since I was born and learned more about life in the course of four years before you came to this world.”

Ralph gaped at him in disbelief.

“All you have to do is fulfill your Guardly duties, brother. Do not bother with what I do to a potential asset.”

“You cannot seriously be thinking—”

Nicholas slapped his shoulder and went to enter Sophia’s bedchamber.

They ought to rush before she changed her mind and decided to find a different mode of transport.

---

Sophia was perfect still inside the carriage, her mind racing to many thoughts. Where was Marcus? Did he truly leave? Or did something worse happen?

She could take the former. She could trust that he would go back to her and explain his disappearance. What was making her panic was the latter.

Oh God, what if something happened?

Nicholas settled inside the carriage without a word and knocked on the roof. The carriage started to move and roll away from Theobald.

Sophia had the sudden urge to yell for the carriage to stop. What if Marcus was still there? What if he was dying somewhere in the manor?

“Fret not, the Theobald is being thoroughly searched for any sign of your lover,” Nicholas said when Sophia started to restlessly caress Aabha who was sitting on the floor of the carriage.

“And as to your dog, you will have to be apart from her for a while.”

“Aabha has always been with me. She is coming home with me.”

“Ah, but she will have a very specific room for herself at home.”

Sophia began to frown. “Whatever do you mean, my lord?”

She could picture his sneer as he said, “Have I ever said I am taking you home to Rock’oles? I meant Whiston, Sophia.”

XXII. Insinuations

Sophia could hardly believe what she heard.

Nicholas must have seen her reaction for he said, “Do not start fantasizing that I am taking you to Whiston for myself, Sophia, for you will be there as a prisoner.”

“Prisoner? Of whom, my lord? Yours?”

Sophia did not appreciate that she would have to deal with this along with worrying over Marcus.

“Of the Guards.”

She arched a brow. “I was not aware you have grown a fancy for the service, my lord. You have said so yourself that you are not cut for such profession.”

“Unless you have better things to say, do cease talking about things you believe you know about me.” Warning filled his words. “You do not know what I am capable of, Sophia. You have not seen that side of me.”

“The part that is willing to turn his back on anything for family?” she could not help but ask. “That is why you are taking me with you. You believe that I know everything about Osegod. You believe still that he is after your family and that I am a part of that plan.”

He made certain she heard his feign sigh of relief. “Perhaps there is advantage to having been a fool to tell you everything. I no longer have to explain why you are not going back to Rock’oles.”

Sophia turned her head away, pretending to be looking out the window when all she could see was darkness and a glint of light here and there. “I do wish you did not have to tell me everything,” she quietly murmured.

“What did you say?” Nicholas asked, his every word stinging.

“Nothing, my lord,” she said, realizing the tears were safely caged now and that she could carry on a long conversation with Nicholas without fearing to appear like a total fool and have him think she was merely acting.

For some, tears were a great powerful weapon, but for people who were expected to use them to manipulate, it was merely a subject for mockery and she was tired of his mockery for now. Now when her brother was in potential danger.

“You were saying something,” he insisted.

“I was talking to myself.”

“And what was that you spoke of?”

“As I have said, my lord, I was talking to myself.”

“And as I have asked, what was it that you spoke of?”

“My conversations with myself are private,” she snapped. Marcus could be out there somewhere dying and this man sitting across from her was wasting her time and energy because he hated her.

“You think you can lighten the mood by a witty quip?” he asked.

“My only desire at this moment, my lord, is to be back in Rock’oles. And if you know what is right, you will take me there. I am sure your driver has not forgotten where it is located.”

Nicholas let the sound of the carriage wheels reign around them for a while before he uttered, “If you know what is right, Sophia, you will tell me everything.”

“I have been telling you naught but the truth. You simply do not accept it for it does not suit your fancy.” She gave Aabha a caress when the dog whimpered beside her. “Now, if you still wish to take me to Whiston, I cannot stop you for how can a blind woman ever find her way home from a place she had never been to before? But know, my lord, that you shall not get anything about Osegod from me for I have none to offer. Dare not think that taking me prisoner shall make me an obedient slave. I have been through worse.”

“And you truly think I cannot provide you the same treatment you claim to have suffered in the past?”

Her eyes flickered toward him and found that she was still blind despite the burning anger inside her. One would have thought it would pave the way for even a slight vision. “Will you force yourself on me then? Strip me of my clothes and tie me to the bed? Strangle me with your bare hands while you ram yourself inside me until you are satisfied? And then you shall forget you have chained me and return three days later when you do remember that you have chained an animal to a bed?” Sophia could not help but scathingly throw each word across the carriage. “Or mayhap you are also thinking of sharing me with your friends?” She lifted her chin, caring not that the tears were absent, that the love she felt for him was taking a respite, replaced by the cruelty of their reality. “Otherwise, yes, I claim to believe you will not come close to the men who came before you. But should you wish to hear advice, do be free to find my uncle.”

A very long and tense silence followed her monologue, but when Nicholas said in a low voice, “I could never forgive myself should I ever touch you again, Sophia,” she realized words hurt far more than all the things she endured. But he would never know that for he no longer believed her.

Perhaps it was best to keep her silence after all.

---

He was staring at her as she ate. They were inside a small room in a tavern in Haywood. Nicholas decided to take the longer route back to Whiston for he can no longer trust Sophia when she said she had never ventured anywhere outside Rock’oles.

Many things could have happened in a year. Durley could have taken her everywhere. Or she knew every corner of the Town all along. He could never know.

“You wish to ask more questions?” she asked as she wiped her lips with a napkin. “You have been staring at me for too long.”

Nicholas blinked and cleared his throat.

No matter how he tried to take the images out of his mind, Nicholas could not completely do so. For as much as he hated Sophia, he cared enough that the thought of her having suffered the exact way she claimed almost made him want to shout an order to the carriage driver to drive them straight to her uncle. And when he was face to face with the man, he would wrap his hands around the man’s throat without reservation.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to entertain pity. She may have beguiled him once with her play of innocent seduction, but he knew better now than to trust her when she was either being coy or haughty.

“Allow me to set one thing straight, Sophia,” he said, leaning against his chair and crossing his arm over his chest in an attempt to act calm. She looked ravishing in the faint light of the room, her skin almost a hypnotizing hue of golden brown. “You do not speak unless I require you to. You answer my questions with total honesty and should I sense a sign of a lie, you will never set foot in Rock’oles ever again. You will not be missed in that place, I tell you, my dear. You will be gone forever and your dear Durley will not be able to do anything should he ever feel inclined to.”

She slowly blinked as though she was in a trance and it infuriated him. He could not decide which he liked better: her sharp tongue in the carriage or her subservient act at the moment.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Now,” he said, “I want you to recall everything you know about any plans Durley and Osegod is concocting. Why did Durley suddenly disappear?”

She shook her head. “I have told you, my lord, I know nothing of their plans. I only know of the slave trade but that too I do no longer have any inside knowledge of.”

“What does that entail?”

She shrugged and her gaze slanted away from him. “That I no longer serve as a messenger.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

Her eyes flashed with frustration but she quickly covered it with a sigh to calm herself. “After the ambush a year ago, I was freed of my task.”

Nicholas’ brows snapped. “Why?”

She shook her head and shrugged. “I simply was.”

“You are lying.”

“No, merely not mentioning unnecessary details.”

Nicholas realized he did not know what happened to her after he left. What had become of her after that night? Why was she stripped of her task?

“Any detail is necessary. Tell me why you no longer serve as a messenger.”

She smiled at him. “I found a different hobby.”

Nicholas gaped at her. “A hobby?”

“Yes.”

“And you think I will believe that Durley allowed you to do naught but spend your time on a bloody hobby?”

“It is a rather productive one, my lord. He likes the business side of it.”

He stiffened. “You resorted to seducing more men, I see.”

She simply shrugged and sighed. She stood from the table and found her way to the bed, stumbling once when her leg bumped against her bag. “I will not attempt to escape, my lord, and in return I wish for you to do me one favor.”

Nicholas waited without a word.

“Should you receive word of Marc—Lord Durley’s whereabouts or condition, I ask that you relay it to me.”

Nicholas scoffed. “For all I know, Sophia, Durley’s disappearance is merely a part of a plan to divert everyone’s attention. Why would I tell you anything when I can simply wait until he comes for you?”

She stiffened at the foot of the bed.

“That is, of course, if he comes for you.” He stood and walked to the door. “Your dog is sleeping with me in my room tonight. A precaution should you change your mind and escape.”

---

“Perhaps you do not know anything after all,” Nicholas said the next day as they continued on their journey to Whiston.

He lay on bed awake all night, thinking of a way to make her spill everything she knew. Forcing it out of her did not work, but provocation might.

She moved her head, a gesture he knew too well as a sign that she was listening.

“Mayhap you are telling the truth that you don’t know anything. Mayhap you are truly just a pawn in this game.”

He watched as she drew in a deep breath. “Perhaps I am a pawn, my lord—a very important one.”

Nicholas arched a brow. “Truly? You think too highly of yourself? Durley left you to be attacked.”

She allowed a mocking smile and Nicholas gritted his teeth. What did that mean?

“Lord Durley will never leave me alone. If there is anyone I can trust to do anything for my safety, it is him. He will come for me.”

Was she provoking him in return? Because it was almost working. Bloody tarnation!

“You mean to say because he is afraid you will tell me everything?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Would you care to elaborate? We have the entire day in this carriage. I can spare the whole of it to hear your words of love for the man.”

Sophia just shook her head as though she found their conversation a bore.

“I will humor you,” he insisted, wheedling her to speak. “Why do you believe your Lord Durley will do anything to come and rescue you?”

He saw her hand ball into a fist over her dress. It was only then that he realized she had missed a button in front. It was a new gown, after all. She had needed help getting dressed that morning and he did naught but yell at her to be fast. He shook his head and focused his gaze on her face. That, too, was a total mistake for he saw the play of too many emotions on her face.

Brushing aside the pity that was slowly overwhelming him, he focused on his advantage at that precise moment.

If he only knew, he would have made a mockery of her relationship with Durley earlier on to extract this reaction from her.

Bloody hell, she was in love with Durley! Why had he not thought of using that against her? He, of all people, had experienced what the emotion could push one to do or surrender to.

“You are devoted to him enough to have suffered the ton’s ire in Theobald?” he coaxed further, watching her struggle to remain calm.

Her jaw tightened and she gritted out, “You might have forgotten, Nicholas, that I am blind. I do not see the stares and it is easier to ignore the whispers.”

The sound of his name from her lips brought back memories which he immediately blocked away for they were of no use now.

“But you cannot say that you do not find them a bother. He paraded you for everyone else to gawk on, Sophia. For a woman who had a big role in the successful ambush of the Guards, you are not stupid and you know what the ton thinks of you. But you endured it, didn’t you? All for the sake of your dear Lord Durley enjoying his time with his old friend, Osegod. You will do anything for him like he would for you.” He laced his last statement with as much sarcasm he could muster.

Her eye twitch at the mention of Osegod’s name. “Osegod is not Lord Durley’s friend,” she bit out. “He never was.”

The intensity of her tone, the hatred laced in each word, made Nicholas frown.

And although she could not see it, he let out a sneer so as to collect the tone he desired for her to hear with his next words. “And you? What are you to Durley?” He clucked his tongue. “Ah, of course, the one who warms his bed at night and does all his bidding during the day?”

Finally he saw the full blast of her anger as she snapped her head toward him and glared. At that moment, he nearly thought she could see him clearly, see all the lies and insecurities he buried behind his tough façade.

Her nostrils flared with fury as she growled, “Enough of the filthy insinuations, my lord.”

Nicholas forced out a mocking chuckle. “Come now, Sophia, you and I both know you are very skilled in bed. I have had my sample—”

“He is my brother, you bastard. Marcus is my brother!”

XXIII. The Prisoner

If the information came from someone else, Nicholas would have dropped his jaw and exclaimed as much profanities as he could. Hundreds of words would be clamoring to escape his mouth in disbelief and he would end up being a subject of mockery amongst his family or friends.

He was not one who could take such surprising revelations in a common manner.

But this time he managed to be calm as his mind reeled, confronted by an unbelievable matter.

Because he was facing Sophia.

She was not his family, nor was she a friend.

She was Sophia. And she just told him one of the most farfetched lies.

He scoffed with intent to mock her. “Do you expect me to believe you? How can he—”

Her eyes were filling with tears and he was utterly certain she was shaking with intense fury. Her hands clutched harder around the fabric of her gown. “I am his father’s bastard with a slave,” she said, her voice shaking. “Do not believe me if you must, I do not expect you to. But Marcus is my brother and he is the only one I have in this horrid world.”

He fell silent. The strength in her words, the intensity of her tone, made him almost want to believe her.

“He will come for me, my lord, and I tell you that he will not appreciate this abduction,” she haughtily added after a while, gaining confidence as she began to calm down. “So please, if you wish to spare your family, do take me back to Rock’oles.”

What did she mean by her last words? Was she affirming Durley’s capacity to do the Everards harm?

But she might simply be giving an empty threat.

He did not appreciate that he was left speechless. What was he to say?

Could he insist he did not believe her? Of course he ought to. But she seemed to be telling the truth.

Bloody tarnation! “If he is truly your brother, Sophia, and if he would truly do anything for you, answer one thing,” he began carefully, leaning over to see her reaction, “Why in bloody hell would he leave you alone in Theobald?”

He did not get the reaction he expected. He anticipated that she’d claw on his face and wail in anger, but she simply offered a faint smile and a shrug.

“Why did he allow your uncle to do the many horrible things you spoke of?”

Her smile quivered for a brief second before she quietly uttered, “The things you believe you know of my past is but a tinge of the entire story, my lord.”

Nicholas’ eyes flickered away from her as he tried to control the urge to shake her and beg her for the truth. He had told her everything about this family—his life—despite his initial plan to use her. She managed to seduce everything out of him and he wanted to blame her as much as he had been blaming himself.

And now he demanded for the truth with no intent of believing her.

He was the utter fool in the end. He played right into her game.

Every conversation they had was creating more confusion than clarity.

Nicholas was starting to believe there was no winning this game as much as there was no reclaiming the life he had before she happened. She had thoroughly ruined him in all sense.

---

Sophia did not know what Whiston looked like and mayhap she would never discover its beauty. But one thing was for certain: it smelled and felt wonderful.

If only she was not here against her will, if only she was here because Nicholas wanted her to be with him, she would have been content with the smell of the fresh air she never experienced in Rock’oles.

She figured it came through the large windows that faced the plantation surrounding the estate. Nicholas had once told her that Whiston was surrounded by windows that spanned from ceiling to floor. There was little light coming through as he led her upstairs and down a corridor with the footmen behind them carrying her things.

She was escorted to a series of twists and turns, probably a dungeon if one could ever be built on a second landing.

When Sophia heard the screech of the door swing open, she almost turned to Nicholas to beg him to return her to Rock’oles. She did not belong here and Marcus could be in danger.

But what good would begging do when Nicholas was intent to keep her prisoner?

Whatever possessed him to do this, Sophia could never ken. She would have done the same should Marcus’ life be in danger and the only way to save him was to imprison the person she hated the most in the world.

And so without a word, Sophia entered her prison and heard her bags drop on the ground somewhere in the room. The sound of the footmen’s boots walking out made Sophia’s heart begin to hammer against her chest.

Just as she expected, Nicholas uttered, “You shall remain a prisoner here until you give me the truth.”

Was he a total fool after all? Had she not been telling him the truth all these time? Her jaw twitching with renewed rebellion and anger, Sophia said, “Perhaps you could tell me what you wish to hear, my lord, so I could repeat it for your satisfaction. Since it is apparent you do not believe my truth, I might as well indulge you with what you desire to hear. You wish to know of our evil plan, is that it?”

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm at this time, Sophia,” he seethed.

A faint voice in her head was asking where her old Nicholas had gone to, but Sophia ignored it. They had both changed since they parted. Things died to give birth to this very moment, one that of lies and truth wrapped in a thick sheath of confusion.

“I speak of no sarcasm, Nicholas.” She could not help but use his name for she had to remind herself that she was facing the man she created, made him this way and perhaps she deserved this. She had stolen the world of a great man.

“You are not doing very well as a prisoner, Sophia,” he snapped. “One must think you’ve had a good practice in Rock’oles considering how Durley turned you into a loyal servant.”

Her hands balled into fists beside her. “I am not a prisoner in Rock’oles. I never was.”

“We will talk more when I deem necessary.”

When she heard his footsteps, fear surged inside her. She would be alone in this chamber knowing naught but the unknown. Nicholas might forget she was here and by the time he returned, she might be in a state of total obedience.

She did not want to ever experience it again.

“Marcus never made me feel as wretched as you are doing now,” she could not help but say in haste, causing Nicholas to pause in his steps.

His shadowed form turned to face her and the faint light coming from the ceiling lamp caught a glimpse of the dark look on his face that Sophia nearly regretted what she said. She shook the feeling off for it reminded her of the years she spent with her uncle. He would do the same and she would ask for forgiveness for something she said or done.

“Because he is your brother?” Nicholas asked. He stepped forward and she stepped back. “Tell me then, please, what kind of brother allows his sister to bed all men that come through her chamber?”

Sophia turned away, not wanting to argue about Marcus with Nicholas. Her brother had done many things and she could not bring herself to defend him when most of them were completely wrong.

Marcus was a good man, only that she was the only one who was aware of it.

“No answer?” Nicholas taunted behind her.

“Everyone in Rock’oles was forbidden to touch me.”

She heard his mocking laugh. “Oh, truly? Then those other men merely stayed to deliver their letters and read for you?”

Sophia blindly walked away from him, glad that she did not stumble unto anything. She already felt weak as it was. She needed to be alone if she was to stay here. She ought to find a way to contact Mr. Mast in Rock’oles.

“No answer again?” Nicholas asked. Was he not leaving earlier?

Sophia slowly turned and lifted her chin as she uttered, “The last I whored myself was at the brothel where my brother found me.”

She saw his form stiffen for a while before he made a move to turn toward the door but not without saying, “No, it was when you allowed me entrance into your chamber. Or perhaps not. One can never know who else you managed to seduce after me.”

His words, along with the closing of the door and the sound of the lock being turned from the outside caused Sophia to finally break down.

She found the bed and buried her face in a pillow where she screamed her frustration, fury and pain.

---

She was manipulating him, Nicholas thought.

She dared tell him that he was the first to touch her after her life in the brothel?

I never thought I could ever find pleasure in bed. I have never known passion until you, Nick. And I never truly known joy until this moment…

Her voice rang in his head and he shook it off.

Bloody hell, he needed a drink.

He rushed to his study but before he arrived, he heard a commotion from the entrance hall.

He groaned and rushed to the drawing room where he knew a pistol was at hand should Ralph opt to have an argument.

Once inside the drawing room, Nicholas found his favorite chair and sat down to maintain a cool mien before his brother burst into the room with a resounding, “Are you a bloody fool!”

He watched as Ralph walked up to him in long, purposeful strides like a Town Guard that he truly was. As Nicholas settled the back of his hand under his chin, he realized he had lost his young brother years ago. He had indeed turned into a man.

“The League is taking care of things, you bastard,” Ralph spat in frustration, glaring down at Nicholas like a hungry predator. “We ought not to meddle!”

Nicholas sighed. “Anything that concerns Osegod is my concern, Ralph. It ought to be our concern,” he pointed out. “Have you forgotten the bombing accident? The threats? Maxine’s carriage accident? Are you waiting for more?” He crossed his leg over the other. “If Durley is conniving with Osegod, we, the Everards, as Osegod’s enemies , would surely suffer. We have two things he is after, brother—wealth and Aurora.”

“Aurora is with the League, Nicholas. Bloody hell! You are not even a Guard to start doing anything!”

Nicholas pointed at nowhere. “But Osegod may not know that. He might still believe we have his former mistress under our protection! And you have been investigating Durley yourself despite what the League has instructed!”

“And you bloody took his mistress!”

Nicholas did not correct Ralph, thinking that Sophia could have been lying about being Durley’s sister. That was yet to be confirmed.

“Do you even have a concrete plan?” Ralph asked, pointing at the door. “You have abducted a woman against her will, Nick! Do not be a bloody fool! Durley could very well have your hide behind bars!”

“That is if you found him?” he asked.

Ralph let out a frustrated sigh. “No,” he snapped. “The other Guards are still in search when I left after learning you never reached Rock’oles and took a different route.”

“And what did you tell the family?”

“That you are in Whiston making a fool of yourself.”

“Did they ask questions?”

“You know our mother. Of course she asked hundreds of questions she answered herself!” Ralph stared at him for a while. “What are you planning to do with her, Nick? Bloody hell, if you are thinking of avenging—”

“I am not one who thinks of revenge, brother, merely precaution,” he uttered. “Durley is planning something with Osegod and I want to know what it is.”

“You think she will tell you?”

He shrugged. “If she doesn’t, then Durley will.”

Ralph’s eyes rounded. “You think he will come after her?”

He smiled. “And I shall be ready.”

---

Ralph immediately left to go back to Rock’oles in time to escort their mother and Emma back to Wickhurst. Nicholas was content that his brother did not arrest him which was the proper thing a Guard ought to do.

But Ralph knew why he was doing this. This was not about keeping the Town safe. This was about preserving their family. Unless they were certain that Osegod had left them alone for good, they could never put their guards down.

Ralph would try to talk with Margaret and perhaps their sister would know what to do after some inquiries with her fellow Leaguers.

“Until then, do try to keep your hands off her,” Ralph had said before storming out of the estate.

And that was precisely what Nicholas did.

He had made certain that she was given food and drink, but only the most trusted servants were allowed to serve her. And even then, they were never allowed entrance into her chamber unless they were to prepare her bath or draw the curtains. They were not allowed to even look at her or speak of her.

Aabha, of course, had to be separated from Sophia. The dog had grown restless and would not leave Sophia’s door, practically living in the corridor for three days now.

Once, the dog surprised Nicholas when it sauntered into the dining room where he was having a meal. It did not attack him, but it growled at him.

Nicholas growled back saying, “You shall not see your mistress until I say so.”

---

By the end of the first week, Nicholas thought Sophia would be compliant enough. Surely a week inside a bedchamber with naught to do but weep and mourn was sufficient to make her talk.

He ordered for her to be taken to the parlor. He had thought of many ways to make her give in. He once even wondered how Durley manipulated her so he could do the same.

But it seemed that he was up to a big challenge when she emerged looking fresh and calm in a pale yellow dress, far from a state he was hoping for. Bloody hell, had he not given his servants enough instructions? Surely she could not have taken care of herself this well on her own!

She looked bloody radiant in that dress and with the bright light streaming through the open windows around them.

“Please, take a seat, Sophia,” Nicholas offered, clearing his throat.

He paced around the room as she settled down, only stopped when she remained unmoving, her expression flat and unreadable.

Bloody tarnation.

He cleared his throat again. “I am willing to forget everything you have done to me and my brother,” he began, stopping to face her from the center of the room. “If you will tell me the truth. I will give you the protection that you need.”

“What? Marry me? Give me your name?” she sarcastically asked.

He shook his head at the incredulous thought. “I am not as foolish as before to offer such arrangement, Sophia. I have been a fool to have offered it to you.”

He watched a play of emotion cross her eyes but he hardly recognized them as she lowered her gaze. He continued with his offer, narrating what he planned for her. He figured he had to give her something in return if he wanted the whole truth from her.

“I will take you to a village where you will be free. You will have your own estate, a cottage if you like. I will provide for you.”

A frown slowly knitted over her eyes as he looked up to blindly look at him. “What makes you think that I will not try to escape?”

Nicholas smiled with contentment. “You will not because by then, your dear Marcus and Osegod shall be in prison. Now, choose: tell me the truth or go to prison with the two bastards. Sharing everything that you know will merely make things easier and faster. Otherwise, it shall not stop their fate because believe me, Sophia, they will be there whether or not you tell us the truth.”

Nicholas started to pace around the room again, growing confident with his thoughts. He knew she saw the sense in his words and he was not planning to stop.

“And as you know, I do have connections. I merely have to say the word and you merely have to cooperate with the Guards and you will walk away free.” He stopped and gauged her reaction. “Now, if you wish—”

“Nick! You will not believe the progress we made moments ago in Kenward! Max was devast—”

“She called our names and—”

Whatever Nicholas, Emma and Ysabella were about to say was left unspoken as everyone except Sophia stood stupefied in a collection of utter horror and surprise—Nicholas for seeing his two sisters bursting into the parlor clad in their walking gowns and Emma and Ysabella for seeing the woman sitting in the middle of their brother’s parlor.

His sisters’ eyes were wide with surprise as they both stared with mouth hanging open in surprise.

“Oh, sweet Mr. Jones!” Ysabella gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What the bloody hell!” Emma and Nicholas shouted in unison.

XXIV. A New Home

“Miss Sophia!” Ysabella gasped in disbelief when she found her voice.

Sophia remained unmoving and silent in her chair and Nicholas had to give her due credit for it.

If it were simply Ysabella, Nicholas might not have immense difficulty explaining Sophia’s presence in his estate, but since Emma was with her, Nicholas was quite certain he was doomed.

Their youngest sister stepped further into the room, her curious gaze traveling with unnerving thoroughness between him and Sophia before it anchored on him with renewed knowing and at that moment Nicholas was certain he was truly doomed.

His sister’s unrelenting stare told him he ought to speak first before she did.

“Miss Sophia is here for a short visit,” was all he could come up with.

Ysabella was still gawking at him while Emma reached for Nicholas’ hand, saying, “Please excuse us for a moment, Miss Sophia,” to Sophia and pulled Nicholas toward the door.

Nicholas groaned, his mind already reeling to the potential events that might occur should his sisters find their way back to their mother in Wickhurst very much later.

Ysabella followed them outside the parlor and when the door closed behind them, it was Ysabella who spoke first.

“You have taken a mistress and it is Miss Sophia, our friend!”

Emma simply crossed her arms over her chest, one brow cocked high, waiting for him to speak.

Nicholas gaped at Ysabella incredulously. “You merely had one garden chat and you consider her a friend?”

Ysabella blinked. “Well, yes!”

He shook his head. “No wonder you were easily betrayed by one,” he could not help but add.

Ysabella stiffened and huffed. “If you must know, I no longer harbor hard feelings for Aurora. She did what she did for a reason and I have chosen to forgive her, whatever that reason might be. What she did to me did not change how I consider my friends.”

“Perhaps what she did must have given you a lesson to be more careful,” he insisted.

“And perhaps it is best that you do not divert the topic, Nick,” Emma interrupted, her hawkish eyes surveying him with knowing. “What is Miss Sophia doing in your estate?”

“She came here for a short visit. The reason for it is none of your concern, if I must add,” he snapped.

“Alone?” Emma inquired.

“Yes, she came alone.”

“Truly?” Emma said, eyes narrowing into slits that Nicholas had trouble keeping a straight face. Nicholas felt he was standing before Maxwell himself the way Emma was assuming such all-knowing mien.

“Yes,” he snapped again.

“I am not certain if you are aware, Nick,” Emma said, cocking her head to the right in a mocking curiosity, “but Miss Sophia is blind.”

“She is what?” Ysabella cried in surprise while Nicholas simply stood there, stunned, as if he was facing the Lord himself. How the bloody hell had Emma figured it out?

“I realized it in Theobald,” Emma explained to Ysabella, eyes still on Nicholas.

“But—but she is—” Ysabella started but could not finish, still in awe.

“Now, how could she have come here all alone at her condition?” asked Emma.

“She has a driver and a carriage, Emma,” Nicholas provided, trying to sound nonchalant.

“And where is this driver? And the carriage?”

Bloody tarnation. Was it possible to have another room at the ready where he could throw his own sisters and lock them inside?

“You disappeared from Theobald the same night word of Lord Durley’s sudden departure from the party surfaced,” Emma said. “Did you leave with her?”

Ysabella gasped, her eyes rounding with realization. “Did you abduct Lord Durley’s mistress, Nick? Is that why he also disappeared to go after you?” Nicholas groaned in frustration. “What have you done! Mother will have a fit! Oh, God, Nicholas, why did you have to resort to abducting a helpless woman to—”

“Enough!” he cried out, putting his sisters to silence. He drilled them with an intense gaze. “Miss Sophia is here purely for business. What business if you may ask?” he started, “None of you bloody business it is!” He turned to Emma and calmly added, “Now, if the two of you will stop your silly suggestions, I would appreciate it if you both go on your way and return to Wickhurst as if nothing happened.”

But Emma would not be deterred as she frowned at Nicholas. “What is happening, Nick? Do not take us for fools for we are not. We might know more than what you believe. In fact, we know more than what we did since we stopped growing in your mind! We have matured if you have not noticed and we know when our brothers are being idiots and when they are keeping secrets, which, in your case is both!”

Nicholas was rendered speechless. He had always realized how Ralph had grown throughout the years, neglecting the fact that his sisters did too. Ysabella was married and Emma had matured on her own as she always did. They had truly been blind of the fact that their youngest sisters had abandoned their childish games to make room for maturity.

But to tell them about Osegod would not change anything. The very reason they opted not to tell their mother and the twins was to preserve their innocence and safety.

He let out a heavy sigh and brushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I cannot tell you anything,” he said as calmly as he could. The two ladies before him waited for his next words. If they were the same childish girls they were before, they would have interrupted him. But no, they have indeed grown and he was not sure he liked it. “The only thing I can share is that Miss Sophia is here to assist me and Ralph with a very important matter.”

Emma’s frown slowly disappeared, her eyes still assessing.

He waited in anticipation as both sisters considered his words.

“Does this concern someone who is a potential enemy of the family?” Emma asked, surprising Nicholas yet again. She sighed, rolling her eyes. “As I have said, Nicholas, do not take us for fools.”

“She came up with many theories,” Ysabella added proudly, throwing Emma a sideway glance. “About Osegod, Lord of Ransford, if you must know.”

“What?” Nicholas uttered in disbelief.

“It was not difficult not to sense anything from the first and last dinner the man had with the family, Nick,” Emma said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Now, tell me—does this situation now involve Osegod?”

Nicholas considered his sister’s statement for a while before he said, “If I answer this question, do you swear not to follow it with another? And do you swear never to dig further into this?”

“She will say yes to the former, no to the latter,” Ysabella answered. She cocked her brows in defiance when Nicholas snapped his head at her. “She is Emma, Nick—she will always look into things.”

“This matter with Osegod is not one of the many harmless theories you’ve been working on about Mr. Jones, Emma. This is an entirely serious matter.”

“I am a civilian and so are you,” Emma countered with a shrug. “You have the right to be involved in this matter, why can I not?” When Nicholas growled, she sighed and said, “Very well, I promise not to attempt to vulgarly dig into Osegod. That is all that I can promise.”

“Emma—”

“Now, answer the question. Does Miss Sophia’s presence have anything to do with the family’s Osegod business ?”

He sighed. He could not have full control over Emma’s activities for he was certain that his sister would be more inclined to do what she was ordered not to.

“Yes,” he replied honestly. “Now, the two of you, go home.” He turned to Ysabella and asked, “And where is your husband?”

Ysabella shrugged. “He has business at home. And he is not my driver, if you must know. He trusts that I can go home safely.”

Nicholas sighed. Perhaps he must have a word with Wakefield. It was not safe to have his wife going around Town alone with no protection. “Very well, I will take you back to Wickhurst.”

But Emma had already turned to go back inside the parlor where Sophia was and before he could stop them, Ysabella joined her and walked into the room the same way they did earlier.

“Miss Sophia!” he heard Ysabella say. He groaned and followed them back inside.

Sophia had stood to her feet with a faint smile on her lips. Nicholas would not have been surprised if she suddenly begged for his sisters to help her escape Whiston, but she did not do that. She simply stood there and the sight almost caused a pang in Nicholas’ chest.

She seemed utterly alone in their presence. Did she also consider his sisters her enemies as she now probably considered him?

“I beg your pardon, my ladies,” Sophia began before his sisters could say more, “if my presence is such a bother. I am merely here for a short visit.” She blindly turned her head at Nicholas’ direction. “I will be leaving soon. Is that not correct, my lord?”

Nicholas gritted his teeth. He nodded his head without a word.

Emma looked entirely unconvinced but she nodded all the same, allowing Nicholas a moment to breathe.

“Fret not, Miss Sophia,” Ysabella said, slowly turning to Nicholas with a meaningful look, “we are quite certain our dear brother will escort you back home. Are you feeling quite comfortable here in Whiston?”

“Yes. That is very kind of you to ask,” Sophia said, turning to throw Nicholas the same knowing look Ysabella gave him. “Your brother has been quite accommodating,” she added with obvious sarcasm.

“Oh, you have a dog!” Ysabella said, spotting Aabha sitting beside Sophia’s vacant chair.

“She is Aabha,” said Sophia.

“We have a cat,” Ysabella uttered. “She lives with Emma most of the time, of course, since my husband seems to be uncomfortable with the feline around.”

“When she is not on her monthly disappearance, that is,” Emma corrected, eyeing Aabha.

Nicholas loudly cleared his throat. “Ladies,” he called to his sisters, “Miss Sophia and I have very important matters we need to discuss, if you may.”

The twins turned to him with an all-knowing look which then turned to warning before they faced Sophia once more to bid her goodbye.

“We hope to see you in the future, Miss Sophia,” they moments later when Nicholas almost dragged them out of the parlor.

“As for you,” Emma said when they were finally out of earshot, “you take her where you took her.”

“I did not take her—”

“Then return her before any scandal breaks loose,” Ysabella hissed. “Sweet Mr. Jones! I never expected you to do this, Nicholas. Steal a man’s mistress?”

“I did not steal—”

“Still,” Ysabella interjected, “you have another man’s mistress as your visitor . That can land you to Ulric!”

He sighed. “I was not aware you know what happens in Ulric.”

“Any clearing field in the Town is a battleground for all of you senseless men, of course we know what Ulric is for!”

“Please board your carriage, sisters,” he ordered, “and wait for me there. I will take you both back to Wickhurst myself.”

“Need not,” said Emma, already bounding down the stairs, “we can take care of ourselves. As for you, do be certain mother never hears of this!”

---

Sophia blamed herself the entire time she was inside the parlor alone, hearing the mumbled voices of Nicholas and his sisters. Why did she not tell the ladies the truth? She could have cried for help.

But she knew why she did not.

Never would she allow anyone of Nicholas’ family be involved in her troubles. Not again.

She was petting Aabha’s head when the door to the parlor opened and Nicholas’ form stepped in. She waited for him to speak. When he simply stood there facing her, she sighed.

“You are taking me away again, are you not?” she asked.

“It will not be safe for my family that you stay here,” he stated, walking over to the liquor cabinet. “I have been careless, I admit. What happened earlier must not have happened.”

Sophia listened as he poured himself a drink. She had a lump in her throat which she swallowed to ask, “And where are you taking me, my lord?”

He came back so she could see his silhouetted form against the bright window behind him. “I will arrange for a new home for you in a village quite far from the ton. The village respects my family as most of them work for the mines and they will not talk. They are as loyal as can be and should your brother locate you there and attempt to come for you, he shall have to face an entire village.”

Sophia blinked and her voice broke as she asked, “What are you truly planning to do to me, Nicholas? What do you get from this?”

“Two things: I get the truth from you or I get it from your dear Durley should he decide to come for you.”

She started to shake her head even before he finished. “He will never tell you anything.”

“If he is truly your brother, Sophia, and if he cares for you like a brother does, he will do anything.” He turned and walked to open the door. “Go back to your chamber. I will call for you once things are settled in Puck.”

XXV. Reports

The village of Puck was isolated from the rest of its neighbors. Located in the northwest part of the Town, it was surrounded by large walls of rocks. There were merely two ways to go there. One was by climbing the high rocks that surrounded Westershire in the west, second was by passing through the road between Kenward and Whiston. The first option was, of course, mostly unlikely as Westershire was owned by one of the Haverstons and climbing over the high rocks could deem fatal.

The second option was the only possible way for the villagers or anyone in the Town to take, but that would mean passing through two Everard estates and driving by the Everard mines.

Given their location and sources of income which was through mining or working for the Everard crop plantations, the village of Puck was very loyal to and dependent on the Everards. Should anyone suspicious go through the known passage to the village, the first to know were the Everards themselves.

Nicholas could not look at Sophia for too long due to the presence of one person: Fanny, his housekeeper in Wickhurst.

The woman was old enough to be his grandmother, but she had been with the family for so long until she was asked to work for him that she was amongst the people he could truly trust to keep his secrets to herself. She did not also question his sudden decision to temporarily take her elsewhere to be a companion to his friend.

And although Fanny was not aware of the true nature of his relationship with Sophia, the woman had been living far longer than him to know more than what she ought to. One look from the woman and Nicholas knew she understood enough of the situation. In fact, Fanny did not even show her surprise when she learned that the woman she was to accompany was colored and almost completely blind. Whatever was on the woman’s mind, Nicholas might never find out unless he asked which was not going to happen.

Which was why he could not dare look at Sophia. There was no denying the sexual attraction he felt for the woman despite his distrust toward her. He was a man after all and his desires emanated wherever he went, especially now that Sophia was within his reach.

He had not heard from Carmel and he would not be surprised if the woman was going about Wickhurst, doing the usual things she did, enjoying her freedom. But Nicholas could not help but think that this time would be perfect to have his lover with him.

He was starting to feel distraction was paramount at this point. He could barely stop himself from touching Sophia, even more so last night when she appeared too vulnerable as he explained to her the arrangements he hastily placed into action.

But he must refrain himself and control his urges if he wished to control her. Should he allow himself the luxury of having her for a kiss or a tumble in the bed, she would have full reign over him again and he could not let that happen.

He did not realize he was doing the exact same thing he was avoiding until he saw Fanny watching him while he absently stared at Sophia’s silent and calm face inside the carriage. He quickly looked away and closed his eyes which then provided his mind the chance to remind him of the feel of her hand when he guided her earlier inside the carriage.

Why did he have to do it? He had not done so the last time. Why did he have to touch her!

He shook his head and stifled a frustrated groan by faking a cough. He crossed his legs over the other, uncrossed it again and tried the other leg. He remained uncomfortable.

Fanny’s wrinkled eyes did not leave him and he almost glared at the woman.

He cleared his throat again. “I will be departing right after we arrive,” he announced to no one in particular. He was aware the two women already knew of his plans. He had been talking about naught but his supposed plan since they left Whiston.

“Fanny shall be your companion for the time being,” he said to Sophia who remained unmoving in her seat. She already knew about it.

He turned to Fanny and said, “You shall not be her servant, of course, but you are expected to cook for her and provide her with her basic needs.” The old housekeeper merely frowned. Fanny already knew of her tasks. He had told her countless times before.

To avoid the housekeeper’s inquisitive gaze, he focused his eyes over Sophia’s head, the safest spot he could look at the time being. “You can keep you dog, of course. I am not too evil not to allow it,” he said to her, glancing at Aabha. Perhaps the dog was the safest spot to stare at after all. When Sophia did not comment, he added, “Despite the village’s loyalty to the Everards, you cannot allow yourself the freedom to move about as freely as you would like to. They are not accustomed to someone like—” Nicholas stopped himself before he carefully continued, prying his gaze away from Aabha to focus over Sophia’s head again, “—to a person of color who enjoys the same privilege as them. They are highly religious and follow strict social rules like the higher classes. They take pride in working for the mines or the plantations and they do not willingly welcome strangers. Futhermore…” Nicholas’ words trailed away as Sophia finally moved and her delicate hands came up to tuck the stray curls behind one ear. He blinked when Fanny cleared her throat and he snapped his head toward the housekeeper.

“I believe you have already reminded Miss Sophia of the same matters, my lord,” Fanny gently said, the tone she used resembling that of a governess telling her ward to relax. “We shall be cautious as you have instructed, we will not allow anyone to step into the cottage and we shall remember to lock the doors at all times.”

Nicholas tore his eyes away from the housekeeper and looked out the window. He saw a few men walking with their gears to the direction of the mines. Some of them stopped in their tracks to watch the carriage like watchful and loyal dogs, but when they recognized the carriage, their stance relaxed and they made a waving gesture.

With contentment, Nicholas sighed. Sophia would be safe in Puck.

---

The cottage was large enough for two. In fact, it was too large to be considered a cottage which Sophia pointed out the moment she was oriented of the space.

Nicholas merely stayed mute as he watched Fanny walk to the kitchen. His gaze transferred back to Sophia and he said, “I will escort you to your room.”

She let him hold her by her elbow toward the direction of her chamber. It was situated beside Fanny’s and was almost empty to prevent any unwanted injuries for Sophia.

When she asked to be left alone for a while to rest, Nicholas shrugged and walked out of the chamber to find Fanny in the kitchen. The housekeeper looked at him with a knowing look.

“Do make certain she eats every meal,” he instructed. “She is rather frail and has lost an amount of weight.”

Fanny merely nodded. The look she wore almost relayed a message across to him that she knew precisely the reason behind Sophia’s current state—him.

“She is—” Nicholas was about to say that Sophia might try to manipulate Fanny but oddly he could not bring himself to do so. And so he stopped himself and sighed. “I will have a footman check on the two of you every day. Should you need anything, do inform him. I expect a full report of your daily activities be written on paper to be delivered to me through the footman.”

Fanny allowed a soft smile. “You have already told me the same instructions too many times, my lord.” She chuckled before adding, “I may be old, but my memory is not.”

Nicholas nodded and looked over his shoulder at Sophia’s closed door.

That very same afternoon, Nicholas left Puck, a bit uneasy but satisfied all the same.

---

Sophia immediately realized that Fanny felt sorry for her, even pitied her. She was afraid to ask how much her companion knew so she simply let her curiosity die down.

She ate the supper the housekeeper cooked for them both and she had to admit Nicholas was correct when he once said that his housekeeper was not a good cook.

“Whatever are you smiling about, Miss?” asked Fanny with laughter in her voice.

Sophia shook her head. “Nothing. I simply remembered something fond.”

“Ah, memories…” Fanny said without finishing her statement.

“You feel sorry for me, I believe,” Sophia could not help but point out. She had not had any proper conversation since Nicholas took her away from Theobald. In fact, she had never had any conversation with another woman apart from that brief one she had with the Everard sisters in the Theobald garden. “Is it my color and my blindness?”

She watched the shadowy form of the woman move, not away but toward her from across the table. “My years serving for the Everards taught me how not to judge anyone the hard way, Miss. I do not pity you for the color of your skin or the condition of your sight. I simply feel sorry that you cannot enjoy the same privilege we can because of them.”

Sophia simply smiled.

“And I understand everyone has a secret and I respect your secrets,” the woman added, surprising Sophia. How much did Fanny know? “Lord Nick is not bad. He is a very good master.”

Sophia chuckled. “You do not have to force me to believe you, Fanny. I very well know the best and worst of Nicholas Everard.”

---

Dear Lord Whiston,

Miss Sophia is doing well. She expressed over breaking fast that she was missing her molding clays. I am afraid news of our presence in Puck has already spread across the village.

Yours,

Fanny

Nicholas burned the letter and gave the footman instructions to be utterly careful whenever he traveled to Puck. “Always beware of any stalkers. Travel in different times of the day and change routes should you suspect anyone following you,” he had instructed. Although he was curious as to when Sophia had started a hobby for molding, he did not scribble a reply.

The following day, the same footman delivered another letter from Fanny.

Dear Lord Whiston,

Miss Sophia has been redecorating the cottage. She also went with me to the market this morning but decided not to do so again on the morrow as we had trouble procuring anything. The villagers would not dare be near her, nor would they sell us anything. Apart from that, she has been in a fairly good mood.

Yours,

Fanny

Nicholas immediately penned a reply and hastily asked the footman to ask the butler to procure a list of items.

Dear Fanny,

Please refrain from taking Miss Sophia out of the cottage. Molding clays shall be delivered on the morrow. Redecorating the cottage is not a problem, but do assist her in moving or lifting the furniture. Again, no visiting or socializing with the villagers.

Yours,

Lord Nicholas

---

Margaret sat stiffly in a chair across from Nicholas’ study table. Ralph was pacing behind her, hands on his hips.

“You mean to tell us that you told the League about Sophia?” asked Ralph with a frown on his face.

Margaret nodded. “And they want her.”

Nicholas did not expect the sudden rage that ignited inside him at his sister’s words. “The hell I will allow it!”

Margaret was the only calm person in the room now. “They can make her talk. The man the Guards captured during the ambush is almost talking as I have heard.”

“I thought you have decided not to join the League’s investigation on Osegod,” Nicholas said.

Margaret sighed. “His name ties with the slavery case I am a part of. It can no longer be helped.”

Nicholas watched Ralph brush his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Have you told the League where Sophia is?” he asked his sister.

She shook her head. “I took the liberty of not involving your name, Nick. I simply relayed to them Sophia’s connection to Lord Durley and his slave trade from what the Guards gathered during their investigation in Rock’oles.”

He let the silence reign for a moment. “No, you cannot have her.”

Margaret planted her palm on the table. “Nick, she can be the answer to this slavery case. We need her to tell us everything that she knows. If what you and Ralph said is true, then we must have her. She is the closest person to Durley.”

“You have once sacrificed a mother and her child, Maggie. I will not let you do it again.”

Anger crossed his sister’s eyes. “Osegod is strongly connected to the slavery case, Nick. If we solve this, we can have enough supporting details to involve him in the case. It will stop the bigger things he is planning against the Town.” Margaret stood to her feet to fully face Nicholas. “He is planning something with Durley and we need to know all about it. At the moment, Durley has not shown himself in any social events. God knows what he is doing! Sophia as a witness will be enough for the Men of Courts to take action.”

Nicholas shook his head.

“Where did you take her, Nick?” asked Ralph.

He glared at his brother. “And why do you ask?”

Ralph blinked and stole Margaret a look. “I agree with the League. You are emotionally attached to this woman whether you believe it or not. The League can extract more from her. You are not trained for—”

“I was trained by our Mother to be empathetic!” he burst out, jumping from his seat. He glared at Margaret. “You gave up Aurora and her child to the League to help their case against Osegod, Maggie, but from how I see it, your precious League of Founders has not had any progress. Can you tell me how Aurora and her child are faring at this moment? No wonder the woman did the things she did in Wickhurst! It would have been better than the prison the League has placed her into. And do not tell me she is not in prison, Maggie, because she is.” When his sister remained silent, Nicholas shook his head. “How do you assure that you will not use Sophia as a pawn like you do with Aurora and her child? Have you bloody lost your mind?” When Margaret flinched at his words, he started for the door. “Sophia will not be taken by anyone from the League or the Guards.” With that said, he stalked out of the room in fury.

---

Dear Lord Whiston,

Miss Sophia is very much thankful for the molding clays, my lord, although she pointed out she did deserve it for being a most behaved ‘prisoner’—her own words. She has not been seen outside the cottage since your last instruction as she had been quite busy with her new project, but a woman came by this morning. She specifically asked for Miss Sophia and demanded for her to never come near her children as they lived merely across the street.

Yours,

Fanny

Nicholas stopped himself from walking out the door and hop unto his horse. He burned the letter without writing a reply. The next day, Fanny’s letter contained more disturbing details.

Dear Lord Whiston,

Miss Sophia had asked that you need not know, but as I have promised, I believe you ought to know that a pie was delivered this morning to the cottage. We were both ecstatic upon receiving such welcoming gesture but horrified when we discovered the pie was filled with mud. I do not believe the village of Puck is growing accustomed to her presence here, my lord.

Yours,

Fanny

The letter was not enough to make Nicholas travel to Puck and shove the mud pie down the throat of whoever made it but he surely had done so quite too many times in his mind. The letter that arrived with the footman the night of the following day however made Nicholas grab his writing articles to write a letter addressed to one gentleman.

Dear Lord Whiston,

A workman by the name of Mr. Cavel came over to the cottage last evening, my lord. He claims to have a want for a ‘tumble’ after a hard day’s work. Miss Sophia refused to show herself but instructed me to lock the doors and windows when the man refused to go away. As he claimed by shouting outside the cottage for us to hear, he had enough townsends to pay for Miss Sophia’s services. His wife came an hour later to ‘rescue’ her husband from Miss Sophia—her words not mine. Perhaps, my lord, you can provide a footman in addition to the protection you are giving Miss Sophia.

Yours,

Fanny

Nicholas was gritting his teeth as he finished his letter.

Mr. Cavel,

Should you ever set foot near the cottage again, you shall find yourself in another village. Please take this letter in kind for I will not be as forgiving the next time. Should you repeat your action, I will personally drag your kind arse by my horse to deposit you outside a brothel for my cottage is not it. It does not house a whore, sir, but a woman with an Everard’s protection.

For your kind consideration,

Nicholas Charles Everard, Lord of Whiston

Fanny’s letters continued to pour in daily with lesser news of any harassment from the villagers. Once he replied that should Sophia wish to go out, she may do so again but only if the footman was available. She did and Fanny was merely happy to inform him that they managed to go to the market and were sold the goods they needed. Nicholas’ letter to the workman must have spread around the village, he thought.

And although he wanted to see for himself Sophia’s current condition, he could not easily do so as he feared that the League may be watching him. Margaret may not have told them of Nicholas’ involvement, but no one could truly know with the League of Founders.

What he was not expecting though was another letter from Fanny. It was delivered by the footman he sent to live with the two ladies after the workman incident.

Dear Lord Whiston,

Miss Sophia is sick and shaking with fever. The village doctor refuses to come near her. Please do come quick before I start burning these horrible villagers myself!

Yours,

Fanny

Nicholas immediately jumped to his feet and shouted for his butler. “Get Doctor Johannes at once!” He turned to his footman and ordered, “Take the doctor to Puck.”

“And you, my lord?”

“What the bloody hell do you think? I am going there now!”

XXVI. Shades

Sophia was delirious with fever when Nicholas arrived. Fanny, on the other hand was in utter panic and fury, following close behind Nicholas as he stormed into the cottage and burst inside Sophia’s room.

“Open the bloody windows, Fanny!” he cried out as he walked toward Sophia.

The housekeeper did as ordered and suddenly the room had more light.

Nicholas’ jaw tightened when he finally had a better look at Sophia. She was curled to one side, cocooned underneath a thick duvet, her face buried in the pillow, drenched with sweat. A cloth had fallen from her forehead on the floor which Fanny immediately picked up and replaced with a new one.

He had not touched her, was not even close enough to breath the same air as hers, but Nicholas could feel the heat emanating from her body. And suddenly he realized she was in a serious condition and he did not know what to do.

“Get the bloody doctor here,” he ordered.

“He refused to go, my lord, said I must find a colored doctor for colored people!” Fanny said, sniffing in tears. “I tried everything! I even threatened him but he will not touch her!”

The rage boiling inside Nicholas was ready to rupture and cause havoc, but there were more urgent matters to attend to.

“What have you given her?”

“I gave her a dose of laudanum for the fever and pain, my lord, but other than that I cannot give her anything else. I cannot concoct anything else, my lord, for laudanum is all they are willing to sell.” Fanny’s words began to be sound gargled as her crying intensified. “They will not sell me anything! Because she is black! This bloody village is bound for hell, my lord, I tell you that!”

“Calm yourself, Fanny,” Nicholas ordered despite the many emotions raging inside him.

He bent down and lightly touched Sophia’s forehead. He almost flinched at the heat. He took off his coat and discarded it to the side. He rolled up his sleeves next and bent down to get the towel from her forehead. It was almost hot.

“Get more cold water,” he ordered to Fanny. “And then wait for the footman and Doctor Johannes. They should be on their way here.”

“Right away, my lord,” Fanny said, jumping on her feet to rush out the door.

When a fresh basin filled with cold water arrived and when Fanny disappeared to wait for the doctor and the footman outside, Nicholas began working.

He brushed away Sophia’s damp hair and shushed her when she tried to limply push him away, shivering from the cold cloth. “You need to cool down, Sophie,” he murmured, tearing away the heavy cover from her body.

“My God,” he uttered when he realized how damp her nightgown was. He did not know what else to do but hold her hands to keep them away from the cloth over her forehead. “What happened, Sophie?” he asked, knowing she was in no state to answer. Her lips moved but no sound came.

He felt for her pulse. They were palpable and he sighed in relief.

Looking over his shoulder at the door, Nicholas was on the verge of shouting for the bloody doctor. To keep his mind away from other things such as storming out the cottage to strangle one particular village doctor, Nicholas decided to change Sophia’s nightgown.

He stripped her of the damp one she was wearing and wrapped her with a robe so it would be much better for the doctor to inspect her later. It was only then that he saw the ugly wound around her ankle. With a frown, he studied it all the while shouting for Fanny.

The housekeeper arrived, out of breath.

“What the bloody hell happened to her ankle?” he asked, pointing at Sophia’s right leg.

Fanny blinked and stepped closer. Her hand went to her mouth in surprise. “I did not know it was there, my lord. She did not tell me!”

His eyes flickered with annoyance. “And you did not bother to check?”

“I swear I did not know! I was cookin’ in the kitchen and she had been inside the room since this mornin’. It was only then that I saw her in such state, my lord, I swear! I suspected she had not been feeling well since yesterday but I merely thought it was melancholia. I did not think she was injured!” The housekeeper was in total panic once again, her eyes filling with more tears.

Nicholas sighed and closed his eyes to calm himself. “I am not blaming you, Fanny,” he carefully said the words. “I merely wanted to know why you did not know she was injured.”

Fanny shook her head. “I have no idea—” The housekeeper stopped, her eyes rounding with enlightenment. “The only times I do not have her within my sight is when I am out to the market whenever she wanted to stay behind or when she is in this chamber molding her clays.”

Nicholas covered Sophia with fresh, thinner linen and changed the cloth over her forehead. “She could not have possibly gotten the wound while inside the chamber.”

Fanny sniffed. “It is possible she went outside while I was away, but the footman would have known. He had been guarding the front door ever since that horrible man came here.”

Nicholas exposed Sophia’s wound. It looked infected and was starting to let out discharges. He cursed under his breath and asked for more clean cloths and water from Fanny. He then asked for Fanny to wait for Doctor Johannes outside while he cleaned Sophia’s wound. He then realized that the wound was not just one but four. His frown deepened as he traced them around her ankle.

Once done, he threw the dirty cloth to the side, not satisfied with his work. The wounds needed more than mere cleaning.

Sitting on a stool beside the bed facing her exposed ankle, his eyes wandered over to Sophia’s face. She was frowning in her sleep, probably suffering with infection. He wanted to shake her, ask her what she felt, what she needed. Surely there was something she wanted!

Rubbing his hands over his face, he studied the wounds again. As he blankly stared at them, he slowly realized with utter horror the cause of the injury and he jumped to his feet to go out of the room and out into the kitchen. The door to the garden banged open as Nicholas came through, eyes keenly studying the ground.

And there he found it.

The hole was not noticeable, but for someone who had made similar traps, Nicholas easily spotted it. He walked over to the hole and stared down at it. Hands on hips, Nicholas searched for the spikes that ought to be inside the hole and found them strewn at the far side of the garden. He then proceeded to look around and realized that the cottage garden was open and anyone could have planted the bloody trap.

Cursing under his breath, his rage in full throttle now, Nicholas went back inside the cottage. He began to call out for Fanny but realized the woman had been through enough and would probably not survive another round of questioning from him.

Whoever placed that trap in the garden would have to pay later. For now, Sophia’s condition was of utmost priority.

---

Doctor Johannes arrived with the footman two hours later, both of whom riding on horseback. Nicholas remained silent, restraining himself from asking questions as the young doctor treated Sophia’s wound. Anything the doctor said, he did not follow up with an inquiry in fear that the man would lose concentration.

Fanny was being comforted by the footman outside. Nicholas stood in one corner of Sophia’s bedchamber, arms crossed over his chest.

“Very nasty wounds,” said Doctor Johannes as he applied balm over them with an application stick.

Nicholas veered his eyes away from Sophia when she groaned, afraid that if he was to come closer, he would merely scowl at the doctor and demand for the man to be careful.

His eyes landed on the center of the table where a large molding clay lay. He stepped closer and realized it was a bust of a man’s head. It was unfinished, but it was a promising project. He looked around the room and saw the changes Sophia had made to the room. It was not aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, but everything was positioned conveniently for her condition.

She has made a home out of her prison, a bitter voice whispered in his head.

Nicholas rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. This was his fault. He should not have brought her here. He should not have taken her in the first place.

Whatever it was she was planning with Durley and Osegod, he could have let the League or the Guards handle. He did not have to get involved.

Yet he knew why he got involved.

Because it was her. She was a part of it.

“She shall live, my lord,” Doctor Johannes said from across the room, noticing his distress. “So long as the wounds stay clean and we treat the symptoms of her infection, she shall be fine.”

He ought to trust the man. He had saved his family countless of times. But why could he not believe him entirely?

Despite that, Nicholas nodded, his eyes traveling back to Sophia. “Do what you must, doctor.”

---

Nicholas opened his eyes and found Sophia awake in bed, her lids weakly blinking as she blindly stared at nothing. The room was dim as night had fallen aboveground. Faint light from the lamps outside filtered through the drawn curtains and Nicholas doubted she could see anything at this point.

He moved and she turned her head toward him.

“Will I die?” she asked, her weak whisper a sound of salvation for Nicholas. She was talking and it was enough sign that she was getting better.

“No, you will not,” he whispered, leaning over to feel her forehead. She was still with fever but not as intense as before. He changed the cloth to a new one. He ought to call for Fanny to prepare food and force it down Sophia’s throat, but perhaps it could wait a while. He needed to be beside her for a while. “My sister-in-law suffered a worse injury but she did not die. She is walking with a limp, but she is a happy wife with a new babe.” When she did not respond, he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “I have gone through three days without food and I did not die. I thought I would but I did not.”

Her eyes closed but her brows met into a frown. He watched her slowly drew in a breath. “You never told me that story.”

His jaw tightened. Yes, he had forgotten to tell her that. There still were things she did not know about him after all. “I must have forgotten,” he admitted.

“Was it when your father died? You refused to eat?”

He shook his head. “No. It was during one of the expeditions with my brothers when we were younger. I got lost in the dark forest while on a hunt and was not found until three days later.”

“You did not eat what you hunted?”

“I tried, but a large bear was under the tree I was on,” he said, managing a silly smile now that the memory was more fond.

“How did they find you?”

“I did not wander around. They eventually found me.”

“Then it was a good decision to have stayed.”

“Because of the bloody bear,” he said. “I would have reached the other side of the forest if not for that bloody bastard.”

Her shoulders shook with her silent laughter. Nicholas’ smile slowly died down as he watched her fall asleep. When he was certain she was in deep slumber, he stood up and ordered Fanny to prepare fresh porridge for Sophia.

He returned to the chamber hours later to find Sophia mumbling for her mother.

He knew she was dreaming about the night she woke up in the brothel.

---

“Apart from the fever, how have you been faring here?” he asked two days later when Sophia was strong enough to sit up in bed and rest against the bed with a bowl of porridge on her lap. She refused to be fed. “I don’t have my sight, my lord, but I have full control of my other faculties,” she had said when he tried to insist she needed Fanny’s help.

“I have been doing well,” she said.

Nicholas’ brows cocked high. “No untoward incidents?”

“None I believe that you are not aware of, no,” she said, blinking away from his direction.

“No more unwanted attentions?”

“People here are quite odd, but I they do not harm me.”

“Why do you keep lying?”

“I am not.”

“You have received nothing but insults the moment you arrived here.”

“People will always be uncomfortable with things not in norm.”

Nicholas sighed. He watched in silence until she was done with her food and offered her water afterwards. When the silence threatened to ensue without Sophia breaking it, Nicholas decided he needed to say something.

“Your brother is still missing. We tried to find him but we are starting to think that he may be—”

“Marcus has many estates all over the Town. He has properties I cannot count,” she calmly interrupted.

“Then why has he not been looking for you?”

“Because he does not know where to look,” she uttered with a sigh. “You took me away and no one would dare think you did because why would you?” she chuckled weakly. “Nicholas Everard kidnapping a colored woman!”

Nicholas found her humor difficult to appreciate. “Your brother knows of us. He ought to have—”

“He would dare not think you took me. I had told him that I shall not—”

“You shall not what?” he prodded when she did not continue her words.

She shook her head. Slipping down the bed to lie down, Sophia sighed. “I feel weak, my lord. I wish to rest.”

“What were you—”

She yawned, distracting him, and closed her eyes. “Please tell Fanny her porridge was a big improvement from yesterday.”

Nicholas was tempted to tell her about the League’s plan but stopped himself. It was not going to happen because he will not allow it. Why tell her? Telling him would merely cause her to shut him out. He was starting to get through to her.

There was very little proof of it, but Nicholas felt he was coming closer to the truth as he did during those days he spent outside her chamber door in Rock’oles, begging for her to welcome him inside.

“You have not told me about how you came upon your wounds, Sophia,” he said sternly, changing the subject.

“Accident outside the garden.”

“There was an animal trap outside.”

“Hmm. So that was what it was.”

“You threw the spikes to cover the incident.”

“To prevent further accident,” she corrected.

“Someone placed that trap there, Sophia.”

“I know. I believe they don’t grow themselves.”

“I do not appreciate the sarcasm at this point. You nearly died because someone hated you enough to want to hurt you.”

“Like you do?”

“I do not—” He stopped himself when he realized she was provoking him. “There is no use talking to you at this moment.”

Her lips flinched into a small smile, her eyes closed, half of her face buried in the pillow. She looked utterly beautiful and well today. “I am glad you realized the fact, my lord.”

“Then I am leaving.” He stood up and when she did not comment, he asked, “You are not going to stop me?”

“Why would I? I am your prisoner here. I am only here to oblige. And I am feeling quite drowsy.”

“I am leaving Puck. To go back to Whiston.”

“Hmm. Very well.”

He started for the door, looking over his shoulder. “I am utterly serious.”

“Have a safe journey, my lord. Thank you for saving my life.”

Nicholas gritted his teeth. “I do not know when I shall return.”

“I shall be counting the days,” was her sarcastic, drowsy reply.

---

Nicholas did not leave the cottage without giving Fanny and the footman more detailed instructions on Sophia’s safety. Doctor Johannes shall be on his way by the morrow to check on her wounds. Another footman will be arriving as well to help the other footman guard the entire cottage from front to back, including the bloody garden.

But upon stepping out of the cottage where Sophia was safely tucked in her bed, sound asleep, Nicholas did not directly leave the village of Puck.

He went straight to the village vicar, the person whom the villagers considered their closest messenger of God’s law and his people’s and therefore the Town’s.

The man looked composed as Nicholas sat across from him in his study. He looked around the room, studying the large collection of books.

“You read a lot,” Nicholas noted. “You must be a very learned man.”

The man assumed a humble mien. “I am, my lord. I try to learn more of the world despite being in such a small and secluded village as Puck.”

“Ah,” Nicholas said, feigning amazement. “Then you must have more knowledge of the world than I, sir.”

“I have more knowledge of God’s words, I must say, my lord, and His laws and the laws of His people.”

“Then please pray tell which of these books taught you to turn a blind eye when your entire community has been doing naught but condemn a woman of color?” he asked, nonchalantly looking around the room. When his eyes landed back on the vicar, the man had gone pale, his mouth moving as though he was trying to speak. “Surely there is one you have read, sir.”

The man’s lips formed a thin, sharp line. His jaw tightened as his gaze morphed into a mixture of anger and defense.

“Perhaps the God you know of is different from mine,” Nicholas continued, crossing his leg over the other. “Perhaps yours have specific instructions on which color should God’s creations come into. Do you perhaps have other colors you consider acceptable for cattle, dogs or even cats? Perhaps none, eh? You merely consider one for humans, after all.”

The man’s face turned scarlet.

“I would love to know more of this God of yours, sir,” Nicholas said. “The words you deliver to your congregation seem to be tremendously effective for they have been all doing the same thing, following your guidance, attacking an enemy as one. Such amazing sense of unity ought to be commended and you are responsible for it, I dare say.”

“My lord,” the vicar began, but Nicholas silenced him by raising his hand.

“My brother, Benedict—his wife, Agatha, came from the village of Kaylock. I am not certain if you have heard of it, but her uncle was the village vicar as well.” He saw confusion cross the vicar’s face. “Agatha was accused of witchcraft by the villagers, including her uncle, the vicar. One night, these villagers gathered together and burned my sister-in-law’s home with the blessing of her very holy uncle. She survived, of course,” Nicholas said, trapping the vicar’s eyes with his intense gaze as he continued, “but her grandmother and sisters did not.”

The vicar’s eyes rounded with horror. “How could they all commit such evil act!”

Nicholas allowed a sardonic smile as he sighed. “The vicar did what he did as he believed he was saving his people. Agatha was family but he chose to save the many. I believe that is also your goal here, sir?”

“Of course not! I save those who are righteous and—”

“And you condemn those who are different?”

“No, of course not, my lord! I do not!”

“Then perhaps you can tell your people more of God’s words next Sunday,” Nicholas uttered, standing to his feet. He looked down at the vicar with eyes burning with contained anger. “Perhaps you ought to start with, ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ . I believe that is an enormously easy commandment even a child can adhere to.”

The vicar stared at him, speechless.

Nicholas righted his coat and sighed. “Miss Sophia was created and born into this world the same way you and I were, sir,” he said through his teeth. “Perhaps she also deserves the same treatment bestowed upon those you righteous people believe to be humans, those between what you claim to be white servants and white masters. Choose whichever station you wish her to place, but never mistake her to belong to a herd for she does not walk on fours. If you cannot at the very least do so, then I shall begin to question the kind of God you claim to know so much about for I am certain mine loves a bountiful of colors of all kinds.” He stepped back and forced a smile on his face. “I shall be looking forward to the news of your sermon this Sunday. And perhaps you can relay a message from me to the village doctor as well.” The vicar swallowed hard, waiting for Nicholas’ next words. “Please tell him black and white have the same anatomy and he can treat both all the same. Otherwise, he shall be mending his own wounds the next time he refuses to treat anyone outside his desired shade.”

---

Nicholas arrived in Whiston feeling exhausted. He had not had enough sleep or a proper meal for a week.

His butler had sorted his letters and placed the important ones on his desk.

He opened the small note from Ralph and quickly read through it:

Durley has resurfaced.

XXVII. Mecklenberg

Spending too much time with Fanny brought Sophia a different sort of dilemma. What the housekeeper lacked in the skill of cooking she compensated in her skill of persuasion. In fact, she did it too subtly that before Sophia realized it, she had already given Fanny enough information to draw a conclusion as to why she was under Nicholas’ protection and why she was thrown in Puck.

Many times Fanny tried to ask her what was it she was hiding—also very subtly—but Sophia had by then mastered the housekeeper’s wicked ways.

Yet there were days when Fanny would simply ask, “Why will you not give Lord Nick what he wants, dear?”

Today was amongst those days.

And like she always did since she discovered how effective it was, Sophia simply sighed.

Fanny was kneading something for dinner, probably bread which would not taste like bread. Sophia shook her head with a smile knowing Fanny was not done with her questions. “Why not tell him the truth so you can be free?”

“You mean so you can return to Wickhurst?” she retorted in a teasing tone.

She could picture Fanny with narrowed her eyes filled with warning. “Never think I am in want to leave you, my dear. I have grown rather quite fond of you.” Sophia heard something roll on the table and crashed on the floor. She saw Fanny’s shadow disappear under the table and reappeared soon after with a long rod of bread roller. “Now, tell me, child, why will you not tell him? Is the truth too much of import that you cannot tell his lordship?”

Sophia smiled patiently. “You have been a good companion, Fanny, but my problems are my own.” She did not wish to hurt the woman’s feelings so she added, “Should I tell Nicholas the truth, I am afraid my brother’s plans will be ruined. He has worked so hard to be where he is now. There is no point telling his lordship anything about Marcus or his plans for they do not have anything to do with the Everards or anyone else close to them. My brother’s goal is purely personal.”

Fanny paused in her work.

“And he does not believe me,” Sophia uttered, standing to her feet. “I believe I have ruined whatever trust he had for me.”

“You leave me very curious of your past with his lordship, dear Sophia.”

Sophia chuckled. “Now that is something I can never tell you, Fanny.”

Fanny chuckled and when her laughter died down, she said, “Lord Nick may be more than what you expect him to be. He may understand you.”

Sophia only smiled and turned to go back to her chamber. She was tired of thinking. Marcus had not come for her yet.

Probably Nicholas was correct. Marcus may never find her in Puck.

---

It had been quite long since Nicholas visited Grey’s with his brothers. In most days, it had been naught but his brothers-in-law.

Tonight, however, Maxwell and Ralph joined him for a drunken night just like the nights before everyone became occupied with their Town Guard duties and married lives.

Although he knew he ought to be grateful his brothers remembered that Grey’s still existed, he knew why his brothers took a night off their precious lives.

He gazed at the two men dryly. The other was big with long hair that reached his shoulders wearing his typical cynical look. The other was younger, smaller but sat with an alert mien consistent with a Town Guard’s stance. He sighed. Maxwell had not changed at all while Ralph did in so many ways. But both looked determined to discuss an important matter and he was angry, even furious, knowing he’d be called a fool for being involved in a serious matter that involved the Guards and the League.

He refused to drink more than one glass of brandy, afraid that should he drink more his brothers would take advantage and make him talk.

This night was not entirely bad, he thought. It merely meant no one had yet figured where he was keeping Sophia. Indeed, his staff could be trusted after all. He allowed a smile of satisfaction as he finished his brandy.

Ralph was the first to break the subject of gambling and hunting by saying, “There is no definite information of Durley returning, but a reliable source provided us with the knowledge that he had an intimate dinner with one of the Town Leaders and that person was not Osegod.” Ralph leaned closer and his lips barely moved as he spoke. “Osegod is going about his business as usual in Willowfair. All of them related to running the Town, nothing suspicious as of yet. The bastard is laying low. He is an expert in all this. The slave trade is stuck and the League refuses to provide us anything.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Simply proceed to what you are planning to do, brother, and try to convince me to give up Sophia.”

Ralph and Maxwell shared a look. His younger brother leaned his forearms on the table and calmly uttered, “What I wish to tell you, Nick, is that Margaret may not be able to stop the League should they intervene and decide to take her by force. They do have the authority and we would not want you to be in the middle of the ruckus if that day comes.” He looked at Maxwell again. “You tell him, Max. You know the consequences of using someone against Osegod.”

Maxwell was silent for a while and Nicholas could imagine his brother’s head reeling with many complicated matters. The man was expertly dissecting his thoughts to provide them with the final conclusion.

Nicholas prepared himself for defense when Maxwell veered his eyes to lock with his. “I admit that I tried to use Maxine to spy on Osegod, but it never went further than a foolish plan. She found out before I could do anything.” Maxwell leaned back against his chair and matter-of-factly uttered, “I believe Nick is keeping Sophia for the same reason I did with my wife. He is saving her from the League for the very same reason I married Maxine.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened.

Ralph appeared confused as he always did whenever Maxwell talked in riddles.

“He is in love, Ralph, you blind idiot,” Maxwell wryly uttered.

Ralph gaped at Nicholas, disbelief and confusion on his face. As he could not meet his brother’s eyes, Nicholas raised his hand to order more brandy.

“The League will not have her, do you hear me?” he murmured under his breath. “I am going to have another drink with you, brothers, and then I am going back to Whiston. And I expect none of you follow me or watch my every move.”

---

Sophia was molding in the darkness, her eyes closed, her mind focused on the clearest picture she had in her head as her hands and fingers copied it on the bust before her.

It was silent outside the cottage and Fanny was probably asleep in her own chamber. The footman was outside, guarding the doors before the other one would take his place to allow him a proper respite.

Aabha was on the floor, silent and unmoving.

It was a good night, a peaceful one.

If only her thoughts could be in the same state.

Her fingers stilled as thoughts of her brother came rushing back. Where was Marcus? Why had he left her?

A sound from outside the cottage interrupted the silence and Sophia stood to her feet to go to the door. She thought she heard the sound of hooves and a horse’s whines.

And before she could draw a guess of who the visitor might be, she heard voices.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she hoped it would be Nicholas. She stiffened at the thought. She ought to have hoped for Marcus. Why did she think of Nicholas Everard?

But since the footman guarding the cottage outside allowed the visitor entrance, it had to be Nicholas.

And considering the time for his visit, the reason for his presence must be urgent. Sophia opened her door before he could barge in and stepped out to find his shadow walking toward her.

“I came here to beg,” he slurred and Sophia frowned.

“You are foxed, Nicholas.”

“I am, apparently, but not enough to hinder me from riding my horse to Puck in the wee hours,” he uttered with a bitter chuckle. The smell of brandy reached across the room.

Sophia drew a breath. “Beg for what, my lord?” she asked, noting that the front door was closed and so was Fanny’s. They were alone in the middle of the cottage, probably with the servants’ ears pressed against the doors because there was no way his voice did not stir the others from their slumber.

“The truth, of course,” he said, swaying from where he was standing. “I am tired, Sophie. I am bloody tired of all this.”

Sophia’s jaw tightened as she blindly looked at his silhouette. She wished for more light, to figure the different angles on his face, to have a clearer picture of his current state.

She was tired as well.

Whatever was happening, it was happening due to wrong decisions from them both. They ought not to have invested too much on each other. She should have said no to her brother one year ago when he asked her to welcome Nicholas into her chamber.

Nicholas took a step toward her. “They are planning to take you, Sophie, and I cannot let them. And I cannot stop should they learn where you are.”

Sophia’s heart stopped for a second and her shoulder stiffened. “Take me?”

His hands went up to rub his face and brush his hair, a sign of frustration and desperation. “The bloody League of Founders.”

Cold rushed up her spine at the mention of the League. She had heard of them from stories and never actually considered them to be a part of the life she knew. She knew of their existence but had never bothered to think that they would know of hers.

“Inside, please,” she said, turning around to go re-enter her chamber. Nicholas followed and Sophia heard him lock the door.

Her hands were shaking as she gathered a cloth and covered her clay with it. She was restless and she knew it for she began to pace around the room, her thoughts drifting fast to anywhere but clarity.

Nicholas, slightly foxed, found her chair and settled in it.

“I do not have anything to say that will be of importance to the League. If they wish to extract information about Osegod from me, they will be disappointed. I know very little about him or what my brother is planning with him.”

Nicholas groaned and she heard him take a lungful of breath. “We have gone through the same conversation too many times, Sophia. Just bloody tell me the truth!”

Sophia flinched and her eyes began to water. “There is not much to tell, Nicholas. I can only tell you my truth, but it is futile if you expect to learn more about Osegod.”

“But the League will not believe anything and I am at the brink of giving up on you, Sophie,” he clearly uttered. “Do you want them to take you away? Because I know I do not wish it, despite everything we did to each other.”

His words stunned Sophia. What we did to each other. He was taking his share of responsibility for what happened and she did not want him to. Did he hope that if he said it she would give in?

Sophia swallowed.

He did not have to. She was willing to give in for her fears were materializing.

And she was tired as well. This could not obviously go on any longer.

“Despite of myself, I cannot allow them to ruin you because, Sophie, they will,” he uttered, his voice breaking. “Just tell me the truth, please.”

Sophia backed away to rest against the bedpost. She bent her head, the guilt of betraying her brother for what she was about to do ate at her. “I only know my truth. I only know Marcus’s. That is the truth, I swear.”

“Then tell me!”

Her head snapped as she choked on her tears. “You hardly believe me, Nick.”

“Because you think I am a fool and I am not!” He jumped to his feet, his hands rested on his hips as his entire stance leaned toward her. “Try telling me your truth. Do not repeat any of your bloody riddles, Sophia. I need more details.”

Sophia pushed away from the post and sat on the bed, her fingers laced together to keep them from fiddling on her dress.

“I only know what Marcus told me,” she began. “I still have no recollection of my past, but the little glimpses I get throughout the years prove Marcus’ story.”

Nicholas remained silent, giving her enough time to continue.

She wiped the tear that rolled down her right cheek, silently asking Marcus to forgive her. “I am Marcus’ father’s bastard with a slave.”

“You have already told me about this, Sophia.”

She nodded and sniffed. “But I never told you of what happened to us.” She looked up to find his silhouette standing before her. “When I was born, our father allowed my mother to keep me. I did not grow up as a slave like you have in mind. Marcus and I were fully aware of our relation to each other and I was allowed to join him and his sisters in their lessons. I was even allowed to play with them. Although I had to do household works when I was old enough, I was paid and never had to suffer any maltreatment under the hands of Marcus’ family, which was probably why my mother saved Marcus.”

“Saved him? From what?”

“A massacre,” she choked out. “I do not remember that night, but I can remember running on barefoot, trying to catch my breath. I remember a hand dragging me away from the heat.”

“The heat?”

“The estate was burned to the ground. My mother was able to rescue me and Marcus and the three of us managed to escape.”

“You said you grew up in a brothel.”

She nodded. “Marcus said the men gathered all slaves in one room, perhaps to make money out of them through the slave trade. My mother hid with Marcus and I in one room and we waited until the entire estate was quiet. We thought they had already left, but they merely took all the slaves out to burn the estate down. We did manage to go out as the fire quickly ate our home, but two men saw us. They were able to run after us and they managed to grab me away from my mother. My mother and Marcus escaped before the other man could take them as well, knowing they would not let him survive.

“They were there to kill his family and loot the estate and gain profit from it and the slaves. The other man began to shoot at my mother and Marcus. She hid Marcus in the bushes near the plantation, intending to distract the men chasing them. She told him to run for his life.” She swallowed hard as the details of her past rolled out of her tongue. “She ordered my brother to go and run away with naught but a promise.”

“What promise?”

Sophia wiped her tears. “She knew the men would not kill me. I was a healthy young colored girl who could bring them quite a handsome townsends, but they would kill Marcus if they learned he survived. My mother…” Sophia shut her eyes tight before she continued. “My mother turned back to fight their attacker and was shot to death. She sacrificed herself for Marcus after she made him promise to survive and find me.”

“And he did,” Nicholas uttered.

She nodded. “I do not remember everything that happened. I can only recall the running and the burning fire behind us. And the night I woke up with an aching head with no vision and no memory.” She allowed a bitter smile. “The man who was there when I woke up introduced himself as my uncle. I know now that he is not but I still refer to him as my uncle as a reminder of the years I suffered under his care. “

“I assume you wish to skip the part of yourself growing up in the brothel,” Nicholas gently said.

“Yes,” Sophia replied. “That part of my life is as horrible as the night of Marcus’ family’s massacre and I would rather not talk about it.” She clasped her hands together again. “And I would rather not talk about what happened to Marcus since the night my mother saved him. He lived his life the way he knew how at such a young age and then he fulfilled his promise to my mother.” She looked up to blindly look at Nicholas. “He found me.” She shook her head and lightly chuckled as she remembered the night her brother came for her. “I thought he was another customer and he immediately told me who he was before I could do anything further. He told me that I shall never whore myself again and took me to Rock’oles where you found me.” She drew a deep breath, feeling an odd sense of relief now that she told Nicholas of her story. “That is my truth, Nicholas.”

“You have not told me what your brother is planning, Sophia,” he uttered.

Sophia sighed. “This is the most difficult part, Nicholas, you must understand that I am betraying my brother as we speak and it is killing me.” She stood to her feet and faced him, now determined to be done with it. “Marcus shared to me his main goal—but not all the details—in confidence. It tears me apart to break his trust by telling you everything that I know, but considering the circumstances, I have no choice. He could be in trouble at this very moment because of what he had been planning.”

“I am listening.”

She reached for the bedpost to steady herself, not wanting to remain standing yet not wanting to sit down either. “In the years that followed after Marcus took me to Rock’oles where he kept me safe, he had told me of his plans. Not every detail, but of the general ones.”

“And they are?”

She closed her eyes, her throat closing up on her. She bit her lip as new tears burned behind her lids. “Marcus lost his entire family in that massacre, Nicholas. He lost his mother, our father and his two younger sisters who also happened to be my half-sisters. No one but him survived that massacre and he plans to avenge their death and take what is rightfully theirs: the Mecklenberg estate. That is the only goal he has, Nick, nothing else. However he plans to do it, I swear to you that it has nothing to do with the Everards.”

Nicholas turned to face her and very carefully said, “I do not know if you are aware of this, Sophia, but there is no Mecklenberg estate anywhere in the Town.”

Sophia shook her head. “Yes, there was.”

“Marcus has been lying to you. I’ve travelled the entire Town, Sophia. I spent years doing so. There is no Mecklenberg.”

“I said there was ,” she said, her tone rising with insistence. “It is now called Egerton and Wyndam.”

It was then that she saw Nicholas stiffen, recognizing the name of the estates. She sighed. “The Trilbys own them.” Turning to fully face Nicholas, she added, “You see, my brother does not wish your family harm. You are not his enemies, Nick. His enemies are the Trilbys.”

XXVIII. Fredericks

This time Nicholas was dumbfounded, utterly so that his mind was not capable of even disbelief. 

He simply looked at Sophia, mind blank, not even confused.

For the many months he had thought she was a conniving liar, he could not even fathom why she would bother to tell lies about a non-existing estate now. Unless she was devastatingly desperate.

But Nicholas knew Sophia was not stupid. Why would she make up this astounding story when she knew it would not be supported by the truth? If she was trying to manipulate him again, Nicholas knew that Sophia would be aware that the way to fail would be to create another big lie.

She was not insane either. There was a sense of calmness in her eyes as he stared at her blankly. There seemed to be relief as well. Relief for finally telling the truth?

“You are not merely saying this because you are aware our family is not chummy with the Trilbys, are you?” he finally asked.

It was the only reasonable thing he could think of.

To use the Trilbys to be free from all of this was a wise move, but to accuse the family of murdering another family was entirely of a different nature.

Sophia shook her head. “No, of course not. Why would I?”

Nicholas brushed his fingers through his hair. “The Trilbys had done horrible things, Sophia. I could easily believe you when you say they murdered Durley’s family and yours, but I would need facts to support this story.”

Sophia lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“Have you ever thought that mayhap your brother had been lying to you? That this story was all created by him so he could manipulate you?” he asked gently, knowing how she felt toward Durley.

She did not appear to take offense. She merely took a deep breath and sighed. “You believe that I believe my brother because I am completely dependent on him, because he saved me from that brothel. You are thinking that I believe everything he tells me because I fear that if I do not, I shall find myself back in that horrid place.” She slowly shook her head with a wry smile. “You do not know Marcus the way I do, Nick. You merely know him for the man who gains profit from a place filled with whores and selling slaves, even by the businesses he now owns, including the Herald itself.” She looked straight at him as if she could see every inch of his face. “You know him not in kind, but in worse. I know him for the man he does not wish for everyone else to see. That is the difference. He is my family as much as your family is yours.”

He planted his hands on his hips and stared at Sophia. He thought for a while before saying a word. “Assuming that your story is true—that this Mecklenberg exists—why have the entire Town not heard of that horrible night? Surely your brother and I are around the same age. Such story of what happened to his family must have reached the ears of many people and I would have grown up knowing about it.”

“Marcus was merely eight years when it happened, Nicholas. I was seven and you were naught but at the age of fourteen, perhaps having a marvelous time in school.” Sophia let out a silent scoff. “And are you hearing yourself, my lord?” she asked. “I just informed you that the Trilbys were responsible for the massacre. We all know them to be amongst the oldest families in the Town. They keep to themselves and had never been involved in great scandals. What they did had never truly been published on the Herald, were they?”

Sophia was correct. The Trilbys always had a way to cover the truth. The only scandal they ever had to face was when Noah Trilby married a woman who turned out to be a murderer. What happened after the woman’s eventual arrest and death had never been known.

“The Trilbys are a part of a very complex family tree, Sophia,” he uttered patiently. “They belong to a long lineage exclusive merely to them.” He stepped forward. “Does Durley even know who amongst the Trilbys his enemies are?”

Sophia blinked and for a second Nicholas thought she would again admit that she did not know the entire story, but apparently Durley had given her more details. “Marcus spent a total of thirteen years building himself to what he is now, my lord. He never stopped because he has a goal. In the span of merely thirteen years he managed to own businesses. He merely did not do that but he also found me and in those years he started his own investigation until today, twenty years later after the massacre.” Her jaw clenched. “My brother is not a dimwit, Nicholas. He knew who his enemies are from the very start.”

Nicholas lifted his hands. “Who then? Who amongst the Trilbys could have done such horrible acts?”

Sophia shook her head. “One would only look into the people who own Egerton and Wyndam, Nicholas. The two estates did not sprout out of nowhere. Mecklenberg was taken and divided into two by none other than George Trilby.”

“Have you ever been near Egerton and Wyndam, Sophia? Do you know that the two estates are separated by a—”

“The village of Filkept,” she said with certainty. She smiled. “Perhaps I know more than you of the Town’s history, my lord.” Nicholas frowned in confusion as Sophia moved to walk to the chair he vacated. “Filkept was merely a part of Mecklenberg. It had no name. Although it has rock walls that separated it from the two main parts of Mecklenberg, it has passageways that serve as connections to both sides. It served as naught but a settlement. The people who lived there were workers for Mecklenberg, almost the same as Puck is to the Everard mines. The only difference was that Filkept was merely established as a village two decades ago.” She settled in the chair before she continued. “Filkept gained its name after the massacre. I wonder if you can conclude as to why it came about?” she asked.

Nicholas held his breath as he stared at Sophia, his mind reeling with confusion and disbelief. “To make the workers silent.”

Sophia nodded. “There were too many workers for a few men to murder,” Sophia said. “What better way to make them stop questioning the true nature of their new master than to provide them what they had always wanted? Provide them with a place to call home.”

“I still cannot figure how George Trilby managed to gain Mecklenberg unless he—”

“Louise Frederick was our father,” Sophia interrupted with an almost impatient tone. “He was a distant cousin of George Trilby. It was apparent that Mecklenberg would be passed down to Marcus, but should the entire Fredericks perish, everything shall go to George Trilby, the closest heir. No one contested or questioned it when Mecklenberg was given to George Trilby for he was the rightful heir law. They all believed the entire Frederick family was murdered. No one bothered to look for Marcus, assuming he perished in the fire along with his family and other servants. Their remains were unrecognizable when the fire died down, Nick. Marcus had been assumed dead all this time.”

“Marcus Durley is not his true name.”

Sophia smiled. “Of course. Lucian Marcus Frederick, Lord of Mecklenberg. Durley is merely an illusion provided to the townspeople. It does prove how fickle people are, does it not?”

“And your name?”

Sophia remained quiet for a while, her face clearly deliberating. “Katerina Elizabeth,” she replied. “I refuse to call myself a Frederick for I was never given the name. And I refuse to acknowledge Katerina Elizabeth as well for it is a name I had forgotten. I do not deserve it until I regain my memory.”

Nicholas decided not to press further and instead reverted the subject to George Trilby. “Egerton and Wyndam were given to Robert and Francis Trilby.”

“Of course you know the men who are amongst your circle,” Sophia said with a smile.

“Not all, merely those that concerns me,” Nicholas replied, “particularly Robert Trilby.”

“He is dead.”

“Yes, but two of his children are alive. Noah and Amelia Trilby.”

She took a breath and sighed. “George Trilby divided Mecklenberg and named them Egerton and Wyndam. Egerton was passed down to his eldest son, Robert Trilby and Wyndam to his second, Francis Trilby.” Sophia had a knowing look on her face as she added, “Noah Trilby is the newest member of the Town Leaders.” She paused and Nicholas waited for her next words. “He also is brother to Amelia and Maxine, the latter considered dead, banished after having an affair with your sister-in-law’s father.”

“You know more than you have let on, Sophie,” Nicholas said. “I must have been a fool to have tried to keep such details of my family secret.”

“My brother did his research quite thoroughly, Nicholas,” she said. “Would you wish me to continue with the Trilby lineage?”

Nicholas shrugged. “I shall try to keep up.”

“Francis Trilby’s son, Leopold Trilby, inherited Wyndam upon his death many years past. Leopold’s brother is whom we all know as the Lord of Thorne—David Trilby.”

Nicholas groaned. He wished for a moment Emma and Ysabella were here. His sisters would have been able to take in all these information far better than him.

“But it is not the Lord of Thorne that we concern ourselves about for Wyndam is currently owned by his brother, Leopold who is dying.”

Nicholas stiffened. “Your brother plans to take advantage of that.”

Sophia shrugged. “I cannot say his exact plans, my lord, for he has kept the more detailed parts from me for my protection. And he was correct to do so because I am telling you everything I know now.” Her voice was laced with guilt again.

“I am afraid I do not know Leopold all that well. I am not aware of any heir to his—”

“His daughter, Vega Trilby is set to inherit the estate, Nick.”

Nicholas shook his head. This was too much information. He only knew of Noah and Amelia and the only nephew of the two he knew of was Edmund Trilby. He merely read or heard of their niece, Vega, from the Herald and the men who thought themselves in love with the chit. And of course he heard of their cousin, the Lord of Thorne but never truly knew enough to even know if the man existed at all for he very rarely graced social events. He heard of the rumors about him, yes, but to have personally met him, no.

“You must have heard of Osmund Trilby, of course,” said Sophia. “He was murdered five years past. He left a son.”

“Yes, I know of his son,” Nicholas supplied but did not want to provide more information about Edmund. The young man had been through enough. But the look on Sophia’s face told Nicholas that she knew the story behind Edmund. Nicholas would not dare discuss it with her, of course, for it would prove to be futile.

“The only living son of George Trilby is George II himself,” Sophia said, “and he is considered to be the head of the entire family. He is the current Lord of Caddington.”

“I have had the chance of hunting with his son once.”

“Ezra Trilby, the Lord of Henley.”

Nicholas scoffed. “You know too much about the Town I can hardly believe you are blind.”

Sophia chuckled. “I merely know about the Trilbys, my lord. I know the details about them even with eyes closed. I can tell you who amongst them are pure evil and who, like some us, are mere victims by happenstance of birth.”

She fixed a smile on her face again, appearing calm and collected. “It is upon you if you believe me or not, Nicholas, but that is my truth. Do not ask me what my brother intends to do, but should you ever find out that I am telling you the truth about Mecklenberg—which I suppose you are going to do so after you go back to Wickhurst—please do keep in mind that my brother does not wish your family harm.” She was fighting off tears with a smile. “You did not take his home and family from him, my lord, the Trilbys did. You are fighting a battle to save your family from the very same thing that happened to the Fredericks and I understand that. But my brother is fighting a war to reclaim what they took from him and I hope you will come to understand that when you finally decide that you believe me.” She stared at him blindly. “I merely wish it would not be too late.”

His frown deepened. “Whatever do you mean?”

She smiled. “Osegod seems to have become a big hindrance to my brother’s plans, Nick. He has proven his great ambition to lead us to believe that he shall not stop until he is at the top.” A tear fell from her face and her voice began to shake. “The only reason why I told you everything is because I am beginning to be afraid for my brother.” She wiped the tear with her hand. “And for myself.”

Cold rushed through Nicholas at the thought of Sophia in the hands of Osegod—in the hands of anyone else. “No one will take you away, Sophia. You must understand that I cannot let you go away now just because you told me the truth. I am yet to confirm your story and your brother is yet to come to me.” He stepped forward and with hesitation took her hand. “Even the League cannot take you away, do you understand?”

She swallowed, doubt in her eyes.

That night, Nicholas left Puck to return to Whiston where he wrote a hasty note for Margaret.

---

His sister’s reply came three days later and it was just as he had expected. He had already been in deep conversations with Ralph by then who did not think Nicholas was handling the matter with his mind. After what Maxwell revealed, his brother was even more so doubtful of Nicholas’ capability to keep Sophia.

Margaret’s short response was all Nicholas needed to prove to Ralph that he had not been an utter fool for having even considered Sophia’s words.

Mecklenberg did exist twenty years past. It was formally renamed to the estates of Egerton and Wyndam for sensitive reasons by George Trilby. Louise Frederick was a distant cousin of George Trilby who inherited the estate after the murders of the Fredericks. Bandits were accused of the crime and George Trilby had asked for the Guards to cease the investigations to provide his family peace. The rename of Mecklenberg was supposedly to not remind George Trilby of the horrible murder of his cousin and his family. He gave the village of Filkept to the workers in memory of their previous master.

Lucian Marcus Frederick was the rightful heir of the throne but was pronounced dead, assumed that his remains were amongst the charred ones after the fire.

We are yet to know more.

-M

Nicholas immediately ordered for his horse be drawn out and rode to Puck alone, making certain no one was following him.

When he reached the cottage in the wee hours of the morning, he went straight to Sophia’s bedchamber and found her curled in the middle of the bed, asleep.

His racing heart began to calm as he realized she was safe. And as he began to believe she had been telling the truth.

He slowly made his way to the bed and sat beside her. When she did not stir, he took his boots off and joined her under the covers, both of them fully clothed. Aabha was lying on his stomach on the floor, eyes shimmering in the darkness, focused on him.

They truly needed to find Sophia a more aggressive pet, he thought as he slid to the middle of the bed.

He felt her stiffen when his arm wound around her from behind and he shushed her by whispering, “It is me, Sophie.”

He waited until she began to relax. When she did, her hand covered his hand. “I assume you gained the proof you needed?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Nicholas pressed closer and buried his face in her dark curls, inhaling the scent of her, forgetting everything he hated about her and relishing on those he adored and loved. His arm tightened around her as he closed his eyes, feeling tears burning at the back of his lids.

It seemed that he was not the only one crying, he thought, as he heard her broken whisper. “I never wanted you to leave.”

Nicholas felt a lump in his throat and he pulled her closer, not wanting to have an inch of space between them. He buried his face in her nape, not certain how he ought to reply. So much had happened he could no longer care.

“I never wanted you to leave,” she choked out again and he shushed her to sleep.

Maxwell was wrong. He was not simply in love with this woman. He was incandescently, madly being a fool for her and he found he was all right with that for he was here and so was she.

XXIX. Siblings

When Sophia awoke the next morning, she realized she was alone, almost believing that what she thought she remembered last night was naught but a dream.

She had dreamed of Nicholas Everard quite too often whenever her nightmares crept into the night that it was no longer a surprise that last night almost seemed so real. His arms would shelter her from the pounding memories, his voice muffling the rage of the men in her past. She would merely think of his laughter and of the feeling of being in his arms as he taught her to dance and everything would settle and quietly slip away.

She silently dressed herself into the simplest dress her hand found inside her small closet and petted Aabha for a while, enjoying the quiet moment before Fanny would come barging in with a tray of food.

But long minutes passed to almost an hour and still there was no Fanny.

Sophia sighed and stood to her feet. She was not extremely fond of the woman’s cooking, but she hated being hungry. And she was rather worried. Had something happened to Fanny?

Walking out of her bedchamber, Sophia was relieved to hear the clutter of things in the kitchen. Fanny must have woken up late and was preparing breakfast only then. But the footsteps around the kitchen did not belong to Fanny.

They were heavier and almost sounded quite lost, walking back and forth around the small kitchen.

“Fanny?” she voiced out inquiringly with a frown.

The light from outside filtered through the large kitchen windows and Sophia blinked, focusing on the large shadow walking around the kitchen.

It was not indeed Fanny.

“Nicholas?” she asked in disbelief, walking closer for a better view.

He stopped in the middle of the kitchen, his hands quite full.

“I see you are awake,” he noted. “I am preparing a simple meal. Please, do sit down.”

Sophia could barely move. Last night was not a dream, was it? He came to her in bed in the middle of the night and wrapped his arms around her.

It was not a dream.

“Where is Fanny?”

“Back in Wickhurst with the other footman. I figured she missed the staff in my estate. The chambermaid, Molly, is pregnant and they do deserve a bit of celebration. I gave her the day off. She shall return by the morrow.”

Sophia’s head was reeling as she watched Nicholas’ shadow move over to the stove and bent over a pot. “And you are cooking?”

“I do know how to cook,” he nonchalantly uttered. “Who do you ken cooked for us when we went hunting in the middle of the woods for a month?”

She shrugged. “Your valet?”

Nicholas threw his head back and the laughter she thought she would never ever hear again echoed around the small kitchen. She stood there in wild bewilderment, almost in tears because she was truly hearing his laughter again. Again. Who would have thought the word could have more meaning?

“Our valets could hardly keep their eyes on the trail, Sophie,” he said, shaking his head and stirring the pot. “They would die along with our preys on the first night.”

At that precise moment, something seemed to have clicked and Sophia suddenly smiled. She was in this moment with Nicholas and he was being nice.

Was she a fool to not want to believe he was doing it entirely for a different reason other than what she wished? Perhaps, yes. Marcus would definitely say so.

But was it wrong to want to enjoy this morning of peace? To be pampered by the man she loved? Perhaps, yes. But it would be the sort of wrong she would gladly pay for later.

Just for today, she thought. Today must be an exception.

She walked over to the chair and settled down, watching every move Nicholas did in the kitchen. She enjoyed watching, the thought of him cooking for her quite thrilling, but she was not prepared to have a taste of his cooking when he finally laid it down before her.

There was naught but a bowl of soup on the table.

“You are disappointed,” he said matter-of-factly, settling across the other side of the table.

Sophia blinked. “I… well, I am grateful for the food, of course. You made an effort when you did not have to.”

“But you are disappointed.”

Sophia tried her best, really she did. But she could not help the chuckles when one finally escaped. Her shoulders began to shake and tears of laughter squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away with a finger, her laughter not dying down.

“And you are laughing at my food,” Nicholas said in mock horror.

Sophia shook her head in protest but could not muster a word for her laughter was winning.

Nicholas waited patiently until it began to die down only to be disappointed when another fit came. But when it finally stopped, when she finally managed to control herself, Sophia said, “You spent an entire morning cooking, did you not, my lord?”

“I woke up quite early, yes,” he admitted lamely.

She chuckled and shook her head. She reached for the spoon but her shoulders began to shake again as she pictured Nicholas moving about in the kitchen like he did earlier, probably reaching Wickhurst should his steps around the kitchen be measured from the moment he started cooking.

“I would dare not insult you or sound utterly ungrateful, but you spent an entire morning cooking soup,” she sputtered.

He was silent for a while and Sophia began to feel guilty for having laughed at him when his own laughter rumbled out of his chest and he said, “Yes, I believe I did look like a fool running about in the kitchen for a mere soup.”

Sophia snorted. “Fanny can stew one under an hour.”

“Yes, you did not have to point that out.”

“While baking bread at the same time.”

“There is no need to be condescending of my abilities, Sophie.”

“While talking about her childhood,” she could not help but add.

“I can see the picture, my dear.”

“While knitting!”

“Shut the bloody hell up, Sophie, and eat,” he ordered, his tone playful and filled with amusement.

Sophia was chuckling as she scooped a spoonful of the soup to taste. She bit her lips as she swallowed.

“Tell me the truth,” Nicholas ordered. “You have something to say about my cooking.”

She shook her head and scooped another to eat. She swallowed and her shoulders began to shake again.

“The truth, Sophia,” Nicholas uttered again.

Sophia shook her head again. She would dare not tell him.

“The truth,” he repeated, this time his tone stern.

She tried to scoop another but could not bring herself to do so. Snorting, she let out another round of laughter.

“It is horrible,” he concluded.

Sophia spoke through her laughter. “Fanny ought to be proud of her cooking, my lord, for she is not the worst after all!”

“Bloody hell,” he said, jumping to his feet. He moved toward her and snatched the spoon from her hand. He scooped some and brought it to his mouth. “Bloody tarnation!” he cursed, taking the entire bowl away to throw out the window.

Sophia gasped in surprise. “It was not that horrible.”

“Even my sisters’ bloody cat would dare not eat that!” he uttered, grabbing a pitcher of water to drink before taking a glass to her. “You must have a bloody iron for a tongue to not have demanded for water!”

“It was not that horrible,” she reiterated between chuckles but she took the water and emptied it fast. “You said you prepared your meals while you were out hunting in the woods.”

He seemed to hesitate before he admitted, “Max is a fair cook but Ralph is the true master.”

She scoffed. “Which is why you went on for three days without food when you got lost,” she chuckled as she said. “You cannot bear your own cooking.”

He made a disgusted sound. “It was beyond horrible.”

“I have had a taste of beyond horrible, Nick, it is not that,” she reasoned and stopped herself, remembering she just delved into her past she did not want to discuss. She waved her hand to dismiss the subject and stood. “Perhaps we can find something better to eat,” she offered, intending to find Fanny’s pantry. “I do deserve something better today after all.”

“Whatever do you mean? You cannot cook,” he pointed out.

Sophia shrugged. Yes, of course, she could not cook. She never learned nor had she ever had the desire to.

“Then perhaps the village has something to offer,” she said, turning on her heels.

“Where do you bloody think are you going?”

“The village bakeshop. They do sell the best shortcakes I had ever tasted, I believe.”

“Sophia, you cannot go out there on your own.” He blocked her path. “You will be stoned!”

Sophia frowned. “You will come with me, my lord. Whatever are you thinking? I cannot possibly allow them to kill me without having at least tried to use you as shield!”

---

Nicholas sensed something was about as he escorted Sophia to the village bakeshop. He did not care for the stares they gained as they walked side by side, or the scandalized look the villagers tried to hide when he held Sophia by her elbow as they crossed the street. He was more focused on why she seemed happy today.

But he let his curiosity linger for a little while until she made him pay for her shortcake and they both found a small clearing in the woods near the cottage. . She sat on a boulder and he realized she was too familiar with the place.

He looked about and realized they were overlooking nearby places. Since Puck was located on a higher elevation they were looking down on sparkling lights from the lamps of the villages below them. He could see the lights from the two giant holes over the estate of Westershire, even Kenward and Whiston. But the brightest he could see was from Willowfair if he was not mistaken.

The lights were like sparkling ponds. They twinkled and Nicholas could almost hear the life moving about in those places. He wondered then if Sophia could see what he see.

He threw her a glance and realized with dismay that she was clueless of the beauty beyond them.

To take away the lump in his throat, Nicholas chose to speak. “How many times have you ventured in this place on your own?”

“I was not alone,” she reasoned, unwrapping the cake to take a bite. “I have always been with Aabha.”

“Aabha,” he scoffed, kicking a pebble with his boots. She handed him the cake and he took a bite. It was not the best but it was definitely more edible than his bloody soup. As he handed it back to her, he went still.

He gazed at Sophia as she took another bite with a smile and he suddenly remembered the reason for her current temperament. “Bloody hell, Sophie, it is your birthday today.”

She let out a small, dry chuckle. “I thought you had forgotten.”

“You told me before. I would never forget—” he stopped himself and shook his head. “You deserve something better than a bloody shortcake.”

“This is more than I can ever wish for, Nicholas, believe me,” she replied.

Nicholas tightened his jaw. She could not see the wonder before her and it was her bloody birthday. And she was here against her will. And her brother was still missing.

He could not help but think, Well, happy birthday, indeed, Sophia. Thank Nicholas Everard for it!

He watched her eat her cake and refused another bite when she offered it again. When she was done, he took the crumpled paper wrapping from her and hid it inside his coat pocket.

As she brushed her hands clean, he finally asked the question that had been bothering him since he woke up. “You said last night you never wanted me to leave. What does it mean?”

He saw her stiffen and her face drained of color. Nicholas thought there was no perfect time to ask the question.

But it is her bloody birthday, you bastard! A small voice screamed.

Before he could tell her to forget about the question and continue with her easy temperament, she recovered and she shrugged. “I never wanted you to leave me in Rock’oles.”

It was the answer he wanted yet did not expect to hear for he knew it would merely bring more confusion and anger and it did. Both cramped inside his brain, wanting to be the first to be expressed. “Then why did you—”

“Because I love my brother.”

“I do understand your story with your brother, Sophia, but—”

“—but you can never forgive me for what I have caused upon your brother and his comrades,” she finished for him.

His jaw tightened while she allowed a bitter smile.

“It is enough that you do believe my story,” she quietly said, jumping to her feet. He caught her before she stumbled off the ground. “And you do believe my story, do you not, Nick?”

“I am inclined to,” he answered under his breath. “We found evidence of the truth.”

She sighed in relief and looked up to him blindly. He saw the yearning and the pain, but the relief was stronger now in her eyes. “It ought to be enough then.”

He transferred his hold around her upper arms. He did not want to let her go. “Sophia, we have many things to talk about.”

But she was already shaking her head. “If you want me to explain all of my actions a year ago, Nicholas, it would merely boil down to one thing and I believe you will not like it. I did what I did a year ago for my brother. All for him, see?” His hold loosened and before he could decipher the confusing expression on her face, she managed to turn and walk away. “We must find my brother, my lord. After that, perhaps we can also find a way for me to go back to Rock’oles and we can all hope that the Everards will no longer be a hindrance to Marcus’ plans now that you know the true story.”

Nicholas stared at Sophia’s stiff form as she walked away. She had gone from happy to heartless in a snap of a finger.

“Are you bloody insane?” he asked, chasing after her. “Do not walk too fast, woman, for you are bloody partially blind!”

She did stumble once but she kept her pace.

“Sophia, we have to talk.” She did not reply. She simply kept going to the direction of the cottage. “You do not wish to talk about us . Why?”

She was refusing to answer.

“Sophia—” he said, finally catching up with her. He grabbed her arm to whirl her around to face him. Bloody hell, she was crying! “Sophie, what is it?” he asked. “Do you believe I cannot forgive you for the ambush? Is that it?”

She blinked and a tear rolled down her face. She shook her head as she attempted to cover her crying with wry chuckles.

“What is it?” Nicholas asked. “If you are feeling guilty over what you did, what you caused, I can take you to Ralph now and you can ask for forgiveness. Mine can be easily acquired—”

“Nicholas, please,” she interrupted, grasping his arm with her hands. “Not now.”

He stared down at her for a long time and sighed. He nodded. “Not now,” he said, “but later.” When she started to shake her head, he gave her a shake. “Bloody hell, Sophie! We talk about us later.”

She stiffened. “Later when all of this is over, yes,” she bargained.

“Later once I find your brother,” he insisted, “for this will never be over. Not this thing between us.”

Her nostrils flared as she struggled to keep her tears. Nicholas bent down and kissed her forehead. He let his lips linger there, closing his eyes to see the flashes of memories flash before him.

Nicholas now realized why he had been angry—why he still was. He knew he would eventually forgive her.

She had a very good reason for that ambush, he thought to himself. She must have one and when once he found out he would be able to forgive her. He knew he was bound to forgive her for he now realized that Sophia was not a liar. She was simply an expert in filtering the truth.

“Happy birthday, Sophie,” he whispered against her skin and her shoulders began to shake as she allowed her tears to finally flow. “Not the jolliest moment, but I am happy you are here.”

---

Nicholas hated leaving Puck and Sophia two days later but Fanny and the footman arrived with a note from Margaret. His siblings were unaware of his whereabouts and were looking for him.

“At the very least they can still manage a sense of respect by not following my servants,” he had told Sophia. “But we must relocate you very soon. I can trust my siblings but not the League of Founders. Those bloody bastards get whoever or whatever they want for their cause.”

She did not ask him to stay, but she did not ask him to go either. Whatever was keeping her from asking from him what she wanted, Nicholas vowed to find out.

He purposely shoved thoughts of her out of his mind when he reached his sister’s estate in Wickhurst.

Margaret had just placed Harold and Katie to sleep in the nursery and left them with their nannies while Fiona and Faye were still trapped in their schoolroom with their governess when Nicholas arrived. Cole was with Margaret in the study, probably to join his sister’s attack should the subject of giving up Sophia to the League ever resurface.

“Louise Frederick of Mecklenberg was indeed murdered together with his entire family—his wife, two daughters and a son,” his sister began, sliding papers toward him. “These are the reports we managed to retrieve from the Guards who investigated the fire. They found the bodies, most of them charred beyond recognition. Some others, probably servants, were also discovered.”

He frowned at the papers. “It was never reported on the Herald?”

His sister shook her head, her emerald green eyes serious and focused. “Mecklenberg—or Egerton, Wyndam and the village of Filkept as we call them today—was and still is too far south. It is hidden behind the rock walls of Sheills, Easton and Tiny Town.”

“But surely a fire that great, a crime that horrible, must have gotten the Herald’s attention.”

Margaret shrugged. “If what Sophia said about the Trilbys is correct, Nicholas, then we ought not be surprised if they managed to muffle the noise. We found an article of a short mention of the massacre and the fire when the formal renaming of the estates and the establishment of Filkept happened. No further discussion or inquiry of the matter transpired.”

Nicholas shook his head in disbelief.

“Her story coincides with all details we found,” Margaret added, her tone well-modulated and calm. “Egerton and Wyndam were given by George Trilby to his sons almost immediately after he acquired Mecklenberg.”

“And everyone simply assumed that all of the Fredericks died in that massacre?”

“The bodies were charred, Nick,” Margaret said, leaning against her chair.

“You do not believe the part about Durley being a Frederick.”

Margaret looked at him for a while before she finally nodded and admitted, “Yes, I cannot entirely believe him. We can never know the truth unless the Trilbys admit to their crimes, a matter highly unlikely to happen.” Before Nicholas could utter a word, Margaret raised a finger and in a rational voice said, “Cole and I have gone through the list of bodies the Guards found in Mecklenberg, Nick. There were charred bodies of young boys and that could have been the true Lucian Frederick. Or they could have been children of the servants or the servants themselves. Or the entire Fredericks could have survived and the bodies found were not theirs! Everything is possible, Nicholas, and that is what I am trying to say. It is either Durley had told Sophia the truth or they could both be using what happened to the Fredericks for whatever reason they may have.”

Nicholas hated that his sister was correct.

“But we also need to take into consideration that you do believe her.”

He cocked his brows in surprise. “Why, Maggie, I never expected you to actually take my opinion seriously.”

Margaret scoffed and shared a secret look with her husband before veering her emerald green eyes back to him. “We are siblings, Nick. Trust me when I say that we all know when each other are being made a fool. You may be acting like a fool, but I know you are being one with a rational mind.”

Nicholas slowly shook his head. “This is bloody hell why I never became a Leaguer. I can never think like one.”

His sister allowed a bitter smile. “Mayhap you are lucky for it. You will die innocent.”

Something in his sister’s voice urged him to ask her to talk about her last statement further, but he chose not to do so. He did not want to discuss Aurora Randolph and what his sister did to the woman. There were things he could never agree with his sister and it was one of them.

A knock came from the other side of the study door.

“I hope it is not the nannies,” Cole said dryly. “I am yet to have a proper amount of peace with you,” he added, addressing Margaret.

“Come in,” Margaret announced with a slight smile.

The butler came rushing in with a note.

“Pardon for the interruption, my lord,” he announced, walking directly toward Nicholas, “but your Whiston footman said this is a matter of urgency.”

Nicholas took the note and read it.

He jumped to his feet and ran to the door, saying over his shoulder, “Maggie, do tell your Leaguer friends to stay away from my estate for now. I shall call for you as soon as I can.”

“But Nick, what is—”

He did not hear the rest of his sister’s words as he ran out of the study.

---

Nicholas did not find a carriage outside his estate. If there was one, it must have been hiding somewhere or had already left. Or perhaps a horse was somewhere near.

His heart was pounding hard against his chest as he jumped off his horse and rushed to the door.

The butler did not open the door for him for the man was trapped between two other large men. The poor man was as white as paper. His footmen and the other servants were all lined up in one straight line near the grand staircase, all of them looking utterly scared as five more men stood guard before them.

A man stepped from behind Nicholas just as he was about to demand for his servants be freed. He did not touch Nicholas as he said, “This way, my lord.”

Nicholas was torn between fury and the incredulous reality that a large, domineering monster was leading him toward his own study in his own bloody estate!

Filled with rage due to the overwhelming shame he felt for having to follow orders from a stranger in his own home, Nicholas marched toward his study where he knew the person he ought to deal with was waiting for him.

Two more men stood outside the doors and they opened it for him as he neared.

He counted all the large men in the dark coats and knew he ought to post an announcement on the Herald very soon. He shall outnumber these bastards with more valets and footmen that perhaps find them all and attack them in their sleep. They would have to pay for this, Nicholas thought as he stepped inside his study.

It was empty except for the man sitting in Nicholas’ winged chair behind his desk.

He seemed to be perfectly at home in that spot, utterly regal in his throne.

Nicholas fought the urge to stalk the remaining distance between them and lunge for the bastard’s throat, but he stopped himself.

“Let us get down to business, Lord Whiston,” the flat and dangerously very calm voice said, breaking the silence. Dark eyes bore into Nicholas’ emerald green ones. “Tell me where to find my sister or you shall have to find one of yours,” Marcus Durley uttered, his tone deadlier with each word.

XXX. A Reunion

“I do not resort to giving out blows like you and your brothers, Whiston,” Durley said, his words distinctly said, giving Nicholas the impression that the man was very well-equipped with his temper. “I merely give threats.” Durley stood up, eyes fixed on Nicholas. “And I make certain I execute them should my expectations not be met.”

Nicholas did feel alarmed by the threat, considering Emma was somewhere in Wickhurst, probably doing whatever unmarried woman ought not to, unaware and without protection. He had the sudden urge to jump to his feet and return to Wickhurst and lock his sisters to safety, but he also knew that Durley was merely doing what any brother would do.

He must play this right if he wanted to have a peaceful end to all this.

If Margaret was here with him, his sister would deal with Durley in the same manner any member of the League of Founders would. She would have Durley chained, interrogate the bastard and catch Osegod.

But Nicholas did not have the same loyalty to the League as his sister had. He was merely loyal to family. He was merely loyal to his instincts.

He realized he finally came to the point where he was forced to make a decision: believe Sophia’s story or not.

He chose the former and decided to risk the consequences by saying, “You shall see her soon, Durley,” he said, noting the great relief on the man’s face which Durley quickly covered with a menacing scowl. So the man was not quite so certain he had Sophia all along. “But you must be patient for I shall demand one thing from you before I take you to her.”

Durley looked at Nicholas, gauging his demeanor, assessing his resolve. Nicholas held his breath, perfecting a look of nonchalance while his heart hammered hard against his chest.

When Durley showed his resignation by returning to his seat, Nicholas crossed his leg over the other and uttered, “The truth.”

Durley’s lips twitched into a smile. “What truth, Whiston? I have quite a few hidden.”

“Start from the beginning. Your family. Osegod. Everything.”

Durley wryly looked at him and a soft chuckle escaped the man’s throat. “You are talking about years of narrative, Whiston. A day shall not suffice to tell you everything.”

“Then perhaps your sister can wait where she is,” Nicholas said with a sigh. “But by your expression, I know you cannot wait longer than a couple of hours to see her so start talking now and try your best to compress everything in merely a few statements.”

Durley chuckled, giving Nicholas a condescending look. “You are not aware of what I am capable of, Whiston. Hand me my sister now or—”

“Give me what I want and you will see her. I give you my word.”

Durley’s smile vanished as he glared at Nicholas intensely. His eyes narrowed as the powerful tension grew between them. His voice as he said, “Sophia told you everything,” almost came out as a snarl.

Nicholas merely shrugged. “Talk.”

The man’s jaw tightened, fury rebuilding in his dark brown eyes. “I reckon she has already told you how she grew up in Mecklenberg as my father’s bastard with a servant.” When Nicholas did not provide a sign of affirmation, Durley continued. “You must also be fully aware by now of the massacre.”

“How did you escape?” Nicholas asked.

Durley’s eyes narrowed at him, aware that Nicholas was testing Sophia’s story. “We escaped the estate just as the fire was starting to engulf it. Sophia was captured, her mother suffered an injury. She sacrificed herself to help me escape. I did with naught but a promise to the woman that I shall find Sophia.” Nicholas waited, knowing that the next part was important. Sophia did not elaborate on how Durley managed to survive all these years.

“I only found out very much later that Sophia’s mother’s body was found amongst the others outside the estate. The fire did not get to them. Sophia was not around and I simply assumed she was taken to be sold somewhere like the other slaves.” Durley’s face remained impassive as he narrated what probably were the most horrifying days of a young boy’s life. “I did try to find her but many things started to prove more important. For one, I was getting hungry and had to feed myself. I found a job as a stable boy, was sold to another master when I proved to be worthless…” his voice trailed away and he paused. Nicholas was certain that Durley was skipping a part of his past. Durley cleared his throat and continued. “I landed in the care of a more considerate master who taught me more about his business for he saw my potential. He knew I was a learned boy and he saved a lot of townsends by having me around doing various jobs. He provided me access to his library in return to grooming his horses and other works that involved accounting and overseeing his other servants.” Durley paused to let out a sigh of boredom. “The same master sent me to school. He loaned me money when I asked for it. My small business grew to what they are today.”

Nicholas finally spoke. “And you found your sister.”

“I finally had the means to do so. We searched for her thoroughly. I hired the best investigators to locate her. My money did not go to waste for we did find her. In that bloody brothel, blind and without memory.”

“You mean to say she was born with sight?”

“She saw many wonderful things before the massacre and before she lost her memory.” The raw anger in Durley’s voice was no longer directed at Nicholas. It was directed on a memory.

Nicholas feigned indifference. He repositioned in his seat. “Now, tell me how you got yourself tangled with Osegod. From the first day, Durley, down to the last.”

Durley squarely met his eyes and laughed. He came to his feet again. “I am afraid you shall have to wait, Whiston.” He fixed his coat and straightened to full height. “You are taking me to my sister now.” Nicholas started to shake his head but Durley’s palms came crashing down on the table, eyes alight with danger. “Now, Whiston, or your dear sister Emma shall have to deal with my men.”

Nicholas’ entire form tightened. “You are not touching my sister.”

“Then take me to mine before we see which brother is more capable.”

His mind reeled, trying to find ways on how to get to Durley without risking his sister’s life. But Durley was not a man to be trifled with. It was evident by the look in his eyes. He looked like he could murder the entire bloody Town without paying a price.

Nicholas slowly came to his feet, sighing while maintaining nonchalance. He fixed his cravat and the sleeves of his coat. “Then bloody get your horse, Durley, for I am not traveling with any of your men. They all stay here in Whiston.”

---

Nicholas had witnessed too many reunions in his past. In fact, he witnessed quite more than reunions but this was probably the only one he hoped never to happen.

What if Durley took her away from him without giving an explanation? What if the bastard would jump on his horse with Sophia and never look back?

The only consolation Nicholas had was that Sophia would not easily go with her brother. Not without an explanation from him.

He had decided to trust her this time and he should act upon it to the last even if it meant putting too many things at stake, even the damnation he would have to face in front of his siblings for being such a bloody fool should Sophia prove herself a conniving wench.

Although it was highly unlikely, Nicholas still could not stop the rapid ramming of his heart. She held this much power over him and even if she was aware of it, she may still not realize the extent of that power.

As he led Durley to the village of Puck with none of his men following behind, Nicholas imagined how Sophia would react.

---

What she did though was just as how Nicholas predicted.

Nicholas was able to catch Durley before the man could storm to the door.

“Let go of me, Whiston,” Durley gritted out.

“She has been very worried for you, Durley,” Nicholas hissed. “Do be sure to not surprise her.”

Durley shrugged Nicholas’ hand away. “Watch me.”

But Nicholas caught him again. “And one more thing,” he whispered, looking at the footman who came alert upon their arrival. He leaned closer to Durley. “She is not entirely yours.”

Durley’s face darkened. “You dare, Whiston,” he almost roared. “You walked away from her. You abducted her. You have no right over her.”

Nicholas tightened his hand around Durley’s arm. “Then perhaps we should ask her.”

Durley scoffed. “I know what my sister’s answer will be, you bastard. Dare not dream of having a claim on her for you do not.” Nicholas did not loosen his grip. “Let go, Whiston, or I shall do to you what Sophia once begged me not to.”

Nicholas frowned, his grip loosened. Durley took advantaged and shrugged him off once more. Before Nicholas could even ask about what he said, Durley stormed toward the entrance of the cottage.

---

She was in the kitchen with Fanny when Durley barged inside the cottage like a madman, brushing off the footman that had been standing guard outside the door. Nicholas fell behind Durley to witness the reunion of brother and sister.

“Sophia,” Durley said in a hissing, hushed, almost pained tone as he rushed forward.

Hearing her brother, Sophia’s smile before they came in froze in her lips. Her eyes went wide. But she did not freeze. She jumped to her feet and Nicholas watched true joy and relief wash over her face at her brother’s voice. A whimper escaped her lips just as the tears from her eyes when Durley finally took her in his arms.

“Marcus!” she cried out in a mixture of disbelief and joy.

Nicholas noted Fanny’s confusion and gave the woman a curt nod to dismiss her. Fanny walked out of the kitchen silently, joining the footman outside while Sophia bawled in tears in her brother’s arms.

Nicholas felt he had no right to be there. He felt like he ought to join the footman and the housekeeper outside!

But he held his ground. He stayed where he was standing and watched things unfold.

“But how—how did—” Sophia started, pulling away from Durley’s embrace, her eyes filled with tears.

“Dare not underestimate your brother, Sophia,” Durley said, his voice far from the one Nicholas had ever heard him use.

Bloody hell. The bloody bastard was a brother after all.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he heard Durley ask.

As Sophia opened her mouth to speak, Nicholas stepped forward and broke his silence. “She is unhurt and well,” he said and Sophia’s head snapped toward him. Eyes searching, blindly narrowed at his direction, Nicholas saw her smile at him.

A smile of gratitude.

Bloody hell! He did not need her gratitude. He could have kept Durley away from her if he was capable of it. He was selfish enough to even entertain the thought so he did not deserve that gratitude.

“Now is the best time to talk, I believe,” Nicholas said calmly. “I took you to her and you must do your part.”

Durley snapped his head toward Nicholas and glared. “I do not owe you an explanation, Whiston. You must be thankful enough that your sister is safe. You shall no longer hear from us. You can be assured of that.” He turned to Sophia and added, “We are going away from this place, Sophia.”

Just as Nicholas stepped forward to force Durley to pay forward, Sophia shook her head and pulled away from her brother. “No, Marcus,” Sophia said. “Not until you tell me what happened to you.”

When Durley kept his accusing gaze upon him, Nicholas gave him a mocking smile. “Lest you wish the entire village of Puck to witness you drag your sister by the horse, Durley, I suggest you begin talking for it is apparent she is not going anywhere.”

Sophia snapped her head at Nicholas and in a biting voice said, “You have said enough, Nicholas.”

Nicholas gawked at her incredulously. “I took him here, Sophie.”

“You took him here because he threatened you,” she said, facing her brother again. “I know he did.”

Durley did not offer a rebuttal, simply maintained his domineering mien. “I do not have the time to spare for this, Sophia. We are going.”

“No, Marcus, not until you tell me what happened to you. Why did you suddenly disappear? Where have you been? Why did you leave me in Theobald!”

The accusation laced in her last question made Durley stiffen.

“I was drugged,” Durley said. “You must believe me, Sophia. I did not mean to leave you alone,” he added, face stern and insistent.

Sophia’s eyes were wide with fear and Nicholas moved toward her to catch her when she swayed but she held her hand out to keep him at bay. “Who? Osegod?”

Nicholas turned his head to Durley. He realized he was simply a spectator here. Again. The two siblings could very well have forgotten he was there.

Durley’s jaw clenched as he replied, “I told you I was going to talk to him but they must have drugged me for when I awoke, I was back in my chamber in Rock’oles.”

Confusion crossed Sophia’s face. “What?”

“The bloody bastard had me unconscious and deposited back to Rock’oles. When I awoke, a note was given to me telling me that you were taken away from Theobald.”

Sophia turned to Nicholas. Nicholas scowled. “Bloody hell, Sophia, I did not dare write this bastard a note!”

She turned to her brother again. “Osegod.”

“All the while I thought he has you, Sophia.”

“But why—”

“To control me, of course, that bloody prick!” Durley cursed under his breath. He threw Nicholas a glaring look before he uttered, “My search for you would have been more productive if the League and the Guards were not nosing around.”

“I am not a Leaguer or a Guard,” Nicholas said.

“But your sister and brother are,” Durley shot back, surprising Nicholas. How much did this man really know about them?

“I could have come for you sooner, I could have realized sooner that Osegod was merely bluffing, but I had to be very careful. And as much as I hate seeing Osegod enjoy this game, I needed to keep my cover for if I were exposed, Sophia, they will know and everything will come to naught.”

Sophia drew in a shaky breath. Nicholas frowned at Durley and asked, “Who will know and everything will come to naught?”

Durley was not going to offer a reply but the look in Sophia’s eyes gave Nicholas the answer.

“The Trilbys,” he uttered.

This time Durley directed his anger toward Sophia for the first time. “How much did you tell this bastard?”

Nicholas stepped beside Sophia to block her from Durley. “She did not have to tell me anything if she was not scared to death, Durley. She was left alone—”

The rest of his words were left unspoken when Durley suddenly snatched him by the collar and snarled, “—and abducted by you, you bastard!”

“Marcus!” Sophia was crying but neither of them heard her.

“You took her as hostage and I believe I change my mind. I believe I shall make you pay for it now, Whiston, for no one,” Durley said, gripping Nicholas’ collar tighter, “takes my sister away.”

Nicholas struggled and managed to push Durley away. The man began to storm back but Sophia squeezed herself between them, shouting, “Stop it!”

“Even until now, Durley, you still care more for your vengeance. Admit it, you are keeping Sophia because you fear that her presence will be known to the Trilbys. If so, your plans will be doomed.”

“Stop it, Nicholas,” Sophia ordered.

But Durley had his eyes on his sister and he looked stricken. “You surely cannot believe this bastard, Sophia. You are the only person I would sacrifice my vengeance for. You are the only family I have. I would not trade you for it.”

Sophia placed her palm over her brother’s chest to gently push him away from Nicholas. “I cannot deal with the both of you if you are this intent to kill each other.”

“I have had the entire journey from Whiston to think of the many ways to make this man talk,” Nicholas said.

“And I spent mine thinking of the many ways I can torture you, you bastard!” Durley shouted, taking a step forward for another attempt to attack but his sister stopped him, throwing her entire weight to keep him away.

“Should I not be the one to tell you that?” Nicholas shouted. “My brother barely escaped that ambush you set up!”

That made Durley pause and stare at his sister with confusion. The exchange was caught by Nicholas but he ignored it as he continued, “Why did you want to spy on me and Ralph, Durley?”

Durley scoffed, tearing his gaze away from Sophia. “I merely needed to know how much the Guards know of the slave trade. I was attempting to gain Osegod’s trust and gaining that bastard’s loyalty is paramount to my plans.”

“Get to Osegod, get to the Trilbys,” Nicholas surmised.

Durley did not answer.

“Why the ambush, Durley? If your only task was to know what the Guards know, why the bloody ambush! You killed two men, you bastard. You have blood in your hands. So tell me now—why the need for the ambush!”

Durley opened his mouth but Sophia interrupted by saying, “Nick, please, not—”

“No, Sophia. You never told me why the ambush had to happen. No one knows why those two Guards had to lose their lives. I was a part of it as much as the two of you were and I need to know—”

“It happened because all of us were fools to trust one another!” Sophia shouted, making Nicholas and Durley take a step back. Her chest was heaving and she closed her eyes. She placed her hand press against her temple and she swayed.

“Sophie—” Nicholas started, reaching for her, but Durley was faster and stronger, grabbing his sister before Nicholas could even touch her.

“I wish to go back home, Marcus,” she said.

Durley nodded. “Not to day, Sophia. You look faint.”

“But—”

“First thing on the morrow,” Durley promised.

Nicholas froze.

Durley swept Sophia off the floor and like a child, cradled her in his arms. His gaze met Nicholas. “We leave after your sleep, Sophia.” And to Nicholas he added, “And you will let us.”

---

Nicholas paced around the cottage while he waited outside Sophia’s door. Durley would not allow him entrance and had not left his sister’s side since he delivered her the food Fanny prepared.

He looked out the window, his eyes focused on the main road of the village.

Where the bloody hell was Ralph? He had specifically given his butler instruction before leaving Whiston. His brother ought to be here by now.

As much as he was certain that Emma or his other sisters were safe, Nicholas still had to make certain. And as much as he knew that Durley meant them no harm for they shared a common enemy, Nicholas still had to make the bastard talk.

He could not simply arrange an ambush and get away with it.

Then Nicholas remembered the look Durley gave Sophia earlier when he brought up the ambush. There was something there that he could not seem to point out. What was it?

Nicholas paced the room for another half an hour until he heard the sound of horses’ hooves. He frowned, rushing to the entrance of the cottage.

It was indeed Ralph abound his horse, but someone else was with him. Nicholas’ jaw knitted even further as the pair neared and he finally recognized his brother’s companion.

What was Thomas Hayward bloody doing here?

XXXI. The Leaguer

Ysabella’s husband, William Hayward, the Lord of Wakefield had one brother—Thomas Hayward, the Lord of Bertram. That was all that Nicholas knew of the man for they never had a chance to be chummy.

He met the man merely on very rare occasions, the longest being Ysabella and Wakefield’s wedding. On the rare occasions he was in Wickhurst he was with his mother, Lady Hayward, taking her to the opera or shopping. He never went with the woman during family dinners or tea parties in the Everard estate, a very common occurrence since Lady Alice and Lady Hayward became very good friends due to the union of their children. Although Ysabella saw the man with high regard, the rest of her siblings could simply not do so.

There were countless reasons why Thomas was never part of the circles Wakefield was a part of, one of them was the obvious fact that both brothers never liked each other. Many believed that the only thing that bound the brothers together was their mother, Lady Hayward.

Thomas and Wakefield’s interests were never the same, Thomas being the proper and responsible son who kept to himself and his estate and Wakefield being the rake before he married Ysabella.

So why the bloody hell was the man here in Puck with Ralph?

Studying Thomas as he climbed off his horse, assessing the serious look on his face, Nicholas could only assume one thing: the man was a bloody Leaguer.

The signs had always been there, but no one noticed it. The man kept to himself, secretive at best. But he managed to hide being a part of the League of Founders by being part of the society who cared naught about conspiracies but social standing, gossips and scandals. To the ton, Thomas Hayward was merely rich like many other lords and he was definitely a catch for many unmarried ladies. Apart from that, he was not seen as anything but.

But Nicholas did not care if the Lord of Bertram was a Leaguer. He was bloody concerned that his own brother took the man with him.

His jaw tightened, his hands balled into fists as he stood guard in the doorway. “Go and stand guard outside Sophia’s chamber,” he ordered the footman who immediately disappeared into the cottage.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Ralph, eyes on Thomas. The man looked like he had missed many nights of sleep. His face was no longer the same as Nicholas remembered for instead of the fresh, clean look he always maintained, Thomas looked like he had traveled from the farthest corner of the Town to here in one day—running.

“He is here to—” Ralph started but Thomas stepped in front of Nicholas to say, “I am here because your sister thought it best.”

The look he was giving Nicholas told Nicholas that he ought to know by now why he was here.

Suddenly the anger Nicholas felt brewing inside him morphed into something and changed direction—toward his own sister.

“She believes she is too emotionally invested in this case,” Thomas added and Nicholas did not entirely believe him.

“You are not stepping inside this cottage, Bertram,” he sternly said, taking one step away from the doorway to block the man’s path. And to Ralph he addressed, “Give me one good reason not to kill you, Ralph.”

His brother stepped closer. “He is not here to take her, Nick. I would not have brought him here if that were so.”

Nicholas narrowed his eyes. “A Leaguer and a Guard is not a pair of visitors I could easily welcome into my cottage. You lot lie like the men you consider criminals.”

Thomas sighed and threw Ralph a look of impatience. He did not believe Nicholas was making it easy and he did not have the time for this.

But this was Nicholas’ home. Nicholas shook his head before he fixed Thomas a wry smile. “How is Miss Randolph, Thomas?”

Thomas’ face hardened and registered alarm.

“Fret not, Margaret did not tell us. She keeps too much from us,” Nicholas corrected. “The fact that it was you who took Aurora as pawn for this bloody game you are playing with Osegod is not something our dear sister would readily admit. The reason I know is that I am not as foolish as you may believe me to be.” The flicker of fury in Thomas’ eyes told Nicholas he guessed correctly. The man had been around Wickhurst around the time Aurora Randolph disappeared. And the fact that he was here as well confirmed it. He was bloody collecting pawns, the bastard.

“Your sister is giving me the burden of handling the more difficult tasks, Whiston,” Thomas uttered, “and you being too nosy is not making it any less difficult.”

Nicholas allowed a mocking proud smile. “My mother would agree that my purpose is to make everyone’s life a bit uncomfortable.”

“You are too nosy not to be a Leaguer, Whiston. Perhaps you should consider it.”

Ralph was standing restlessly beside Thomas, eyes on Nicholas, pleading him to step aside and be a good citizen.

“You will have to kill me before you can take her with you, Bertram,” Nicholas hissed, ignoring his brother’s presence. “Are Miss Randolph and her child not enough?” Thomas’ face tightened at the mention of the child. “Do you have to fill another room where you keep them with another innocent life?”

“You do not—”

“All for your purpose of taking down Osegod?” Nicholas finished incredulously. “Have you not wondered how one man can do whatever you believe him to be doing? He is not alone, Bertram, and you know it. You cannot easily take him down by taking his bastard and former mistress as pawns.”

Bertram’s dark blue eyes flared into fury. “You do not know what we know, Whiston,” he gritted through his teeth. “What you claim you know is nothing. Do not attempt to think or act like one of us because you are not. Spare me the preaching for I did not come here for her. I came for her brother.”

Nicholas glared at Ralph. “News surely does travel fast.”

Ralph’s gaze wavered. “I had my orders, brother,” he murmured. “Orders I cannot talk about.”

“Even to me?”

Ralph nodded.

“Because I am not a Guard, nor am I a Leaguer.”

“Precisely,” Thomas said, stepping forward. “Take Durley out so we can all go home.”

But Nicholas held his ground.

Thomas sighed. “No blood shall be spilled tonight, Whiston. I am here to negotiate.”

Nicholas chuckled as he realized that he was not going to win. But then, mayhap it was for everyone’s good intention that Durley finally talked with the authorities. The bloody bastard had been keeping to himself for too long.

And before he changed his mind, Nicholas said, “You shall not have a glimpse of her, Bertram. You can have her brother, talk to him, but you shall not see her.”

Bertram shrugged.

Nicholas turned to go back inside the cottage.

It was time to interrupt Sophia and Durley’s reunion. And perhaps—just perhaps—Durley would be forced to pay for his deeds.

---

Thomas and Durley locked themselves in one room with Ralph and nothing was heard, not even a whisper. Not that Nicholas cared at all for he spent the entire time sitting beside Sophia’s bed as she slept.

He looked around the room and realized that she was leaving this place. He saw her clays in one corner, the project she had been working on covered with cloth at the center of it all. He watched Aabha stare, eyes glimmering as if ecstatic to finally be rid of him.

“It shall not be easy, my friend,” he whispered to the dog. “You shall never be free of me. I know where you live in Rock’oles. I know how to get into that chamber through the bloody backdoor.”

Nicholas waited until Fanny poked her head into the room to signal that the meeting was over. The three men had been using the housekeeper’s chamber and the old woman was merely relieved to have it back.

Nicholas stood up and left Sophia sleeping to find Durley calmly walking back to reenter his sister’s chamber, Bertram walking out of the front door and Ralph rummaging the cottage kitchen.

He made a small circle, disbelief on his face. Bertram’s horse neighed and its gallops erupted outside the cottage until if faded away as its master rode out of Puck. The footman closed the front door and returned to his post outside.

“That was bloody fast,” Nicholas said to Ralph who was attacking Fanny’s terrible pudding.

His brother simply shrugged.

“What did you talk about?” he demanded, walking into the kitchen. Eyes narrowed at Ralph, he added, “And do not bloody say I cannot know, Ralph, because I am this close,”—he lifted his hand to show a centimeter of space between two fingers—“to throttling the life out of you.”

Ralph swallowed his food with a grimace. “Bloody pudding,” he muttered as he wiped his mouth. He turned to give Nicholas a serious look. “I immediately went to Margaret the moment I received your note. She was in a meeting with Bertram when I arrived and she decided that I must take him with me.” He lifted a hand to stop Nicholas’ outburst. “She made him promise not to take Sophia. He did and I took him here.”

Nicholas ran his fingers through his hair. “But that does not discount the fact that they now know where she is! They could bloody be waiting somewhere to abduct her!”

Ralph shook his head. “I see no reason why they would do it now that they can talk with Durley. It is him they want, Nick, not Sophia.”

Nicholas scoffed. “And what do they specifically want from him?”

“The League has figured out what Durley wants and they are trying to convince him that they can help each other.”

“You mean to say they will help Durley take down the Trilbys as well?”

Something flashed in Ralph’s eyes before he quickly recovered and said, “What I can tell you is Durley’s reply to the offer.”

“Which is a no,” Nicholas supplied without hesitation. Ralph confirmed with a nod. “He is not used to working with anyone.”

“But he is a great asset,” Ralph said. “One we are willing to be patient for.”

Nicholas shook his head. “And the Guards are now a part of this again? Considering Bertram allowed your presence in that room tells me so.”

“Me and a few others,” Ralph corrected. “We cannot fully trust the Guards, Nick. Osegod has men inside.”

“And you are not arresting the bastard?” he asked, referring to Durley. “After the ambush, you simply sit here eating Fanny’s terrible pudding while the man responsible for the lives of two Guards is merely a few paces away?”

Ralph shrugged, his face unreadable. “As I have said, brother, I have orders. The man is more valuable to us alive and free than in prison.”

Nicholas shook his head. “I do not like this, Ralph. By working on this case, the family is placed in even more potential danger.”

His brother’s face turned grim. “I know.” He met Nicholas’ gaze. “But but need Durley’s cooperation as much as he would someday need ours for his own goals. More is at stake now, Nick. And I wish I can bloody tell you.”

“No,” Nicholas said, shaking his head. “I do not wish to know for it would mean knowing what all of you are also willing to do to save us all.” He turned to leave. “I do not wish to discover that there is no difference in the amount of evil from both sides after all. Goodnight, brother. Have a safe trip back to Wickhurst. We have no extra room for you here. And do tell our sister that I appreciate her effort for Sophia but I shall not have any of her friends come bothering again.”

---

By morning, Nicholas was pacing outside Sophia’s bedchamber.

He could hear that she was preparing to leave and he would not stop her if she wanted to go home with her brother.

He had kept her long enough against her will. He did it in such foolish fashion that he knew he had no right to stop her now. He had been impetuous and driven with anger.

He wanted answers and he now had enough.

The other reason to beg her not to go seemed rather farce given the situation.

But he wanted to do it. He wanted to beg her to stay, to talk and settle matters.

When the door to her chamber opened and Durley walked out, Nicholas stopped and faced him.

“Sophia is dressing,” Durley said. “Your housekeeper is helping her. And then we are leaving and you are not stopping us, Whiston.”

Nicholas tried to remain calm, as though Sophia leaving was a matter he had already anticipated long beforehand, as though he was not considering kneeling before Durley to ask for his sister’s hand.

He decided to change the subject by asking, “What do you wish to do now?”

“If you are asking about my plans against the Trilbys, Whiston, pardon me to say that it is none of your bloody business. Stay away from the Trilbys if you wish to spare your family the wrath that shall befall them.” He walked to a chair by the window and sat down, leg crossed over the other, looking like he was the master of the cottage and he had been living in it for decades.

“And if you hope to know about my opinion on the opportunity presented before me by your Leaguer friend and your brother last night, my answer is very simple.” He clasped his fingers together over his lap as he held Nicholas’ gaze. “They cannot force me to do anything. I may decide to help them get Osegod out of the way, or I may not. That shall be entirely dependent on how I would find good use for the League and the Guards in the future. Osegod is too clever and I have completely lost his trust which shall indeed be a challenge. But now that I have the League and the Guards at my disposal, the challenge may not be for long. The timing shall be decided by me, not the League or the Guards.” His eyes left Nicholas and veered toward Sophia’s closed door. “For now, I have more important matters to attend to. As to Osegod, I need to distance myself from the man if I want to gain the trust of the very people I hope to ruin.”

Nicholas scoffed. “Surely you cannot be too confident where the League is concerned, Durley. They may resort to harsher measures.”

Durley shrugged. “The League and I have an understanding.”

“An understanding?”

“That is between me and them.” Nicholas’ jaw tightened. It must be amongst the things Ralph did not share last night. He heard Durley’s heavy sigh. “Osegod shall fall, Whiston, but it shall be when I need him to. As of now, it is not the perfect time to see him fall. You Everards merely have to be more cautious and patient. This matter with Osegod shall soon end.”

“And what of Sophia?”

Durley stared at him, brown eyes all-knowing. “She can do whatever she wishes as she always did. She hopes to go back to Rock’oles, then she shall.”

“You mean you still plan to use her for your own selfish reasons, find a good use for her like you did before as your messenger. “

Durely turned grim and his voice turned cold as he uttered, “My sister has always had freedom the moment I rescued her from that brothel. It is her choice to help me.”

Nicholas let the silence linger for a while, the occasional voice of Fanny and Sophia escaping through the door and floating toward them. “I will never forgive you for the ambush, Durley. I almost lost my brother that night.”

Durley looked as if he was close to rolling his eyes, finding the subject a bore. “Do you mean the ambush in the Dark Forest?” Durley paused and having no response from Nicholas, added, “She did not tell you, did she? I believe she thinks it for the best.”

Nicholas stilled. “Whatever do you mean, Durley?”

The man uncrossed his legs and stood up. “Whiston, I try my best to do what my sister wishes. I did and unfortunately it still ended badly. Blame Osegod for he did all on his own.”

“What he bloody hell are you talking about?”

Durley simply looked at him as though he was the most foolish man alive. “She begged me to not go through with the ambush, Whiston.”

“She did what—”

“This ambush matter is too old a subject for me to discuss. I had already come into terms with what happened, but obviously you and my sister never did.” Durley turned and walked to the kitchen, his footsteps leading him farther toward the door that led to the back of the cottage. “I have no more words to say. Sophia had her reasons for not telling you and I have already said too much. Perhaps you can steal a few minutes to ask her yourself. But do not take long for I do not have all the time in the world.”

Before Durley could even finish last words, Nicholas whirled around.

He stormed toward Sophia’s chamber and barged inside the room. Sophia was sitting on her bed while Fanny was in one corner bending over the floor to pick up a cloth.

“One moment, Marcus,” Sophia murmured as she carefully tied the ribbon of her lace slippers, her eyes narrowed down at her task.

Nicholas, on the other hand, was not focused on her. His eyes were on the cloth in Fanny’s hand, traveling to the molded clay where the cloth fell from. It was too late for Fanny to cover the bust of head for Nicholas was already striding forward, eyes fixed on the face Sophia had been working on.

Fanny stood in awkward silence while Sophia stilled in her task, realizing it was not her brother who entered the room.

Nicholas, however, was stupefied as he looked straight at Sophia’s creation on the table. He did not have to look into a viewing glass to recognize the face molded on the clay for it was perfectly made.

It was him.

XXXII. For Now Farewell

“Would you leave Miss Sophia and me for a moment, Fanny?” Nicholas said in a calm and distinct voice, despite the ringing in his ears, despite the loud and wild rampage in his chest.

Fanny’s eyes flickered toward Sophia for a short second before she bowed her head and exited the room, the cloth cover for the clay still in her hands.

The discrete closing of the chamber door was a clear signal for Nicholas to slowly face Sophia who seemed to be indifferent, acting nonchalant as she finished tying her sandals.

“You do have a gift for molding,” Nicholas said, breaking the silence, leaning his hand on the table beside the bust of clay. Now that he had a closer look, he realized she had not finished molding his ears.

He saw her stiffen for a while before she shrugged. “You must realize you are the last man whose face I have memorized by touch, my lord,” she said calmly and softly. She looked up, her gaze blank. “Is it perfect? You can have it as a parting gift.”

Nicholas closed his eyes to maintain a bit of patience. When he opened them, Sophia was straightening on the bed, her face impassive than before. What was going on in her mind? What was she thinking? Was she nervous as him? Was she angry? Was she devastated? Desperate?

He wished he could see through that blank look in her pale olive eyes.

But she had closed him out now as she did one year past. She was once more prepared to let him go without giving herself a chance.

He saw her struggle with a smile. “Do not feel utterly honored, Nicholas. I molded that clay with the intent to mock you. It is unfinished.”

“Yes, I see that one ear is missing.”

“I did not mean to mold an ear.”

“You were not?”

She nodded. “I was trying to figure a way to put a knife through it. But I believe a sword shall serve me better as it will reach the other ear.”

Nicholas sighed and rolled his eyes. He grabbed the chair facing the table, lifted it off the ground and settled it in front of her.

Sophia stiffened as he slowly sat down facing her. He leaned against the chair, arms crossed over his chest and one leg over the other in an easy and relaxed manner.

“And what else do you intend to do with it?”

She shrugged, her composure slowly disintegrating. “Find a pole to attach it to and have it on display outside the cottage with a sign that says, ‘unleash thy anger here’.”

“Hmm. They will not appreciate it, Sophie. It will merely scare your bloody neighbors.”

She nodded. “And you.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a smile. “Because you do not like me at all?”

She nodded. “Well, I do not entirely hate you.”

“And you do not love me either, yes?”

He watched as she blinked and her mouth opened to form the lie he knew she was about to say. But she did not utter them. Mayhap she couldn’t or perhaps she no longer wished to bother with a lie.

Either way, his heart was already celebrating. Bloody tarnation, he could even picture his own mother planning another engagement ball and a grand wedding! He knew he was close to turning that picture into reality.

He simply had to be patient, insistent and desperate.

“Why did you not tell me you tried to stop the ambush, Sophie?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Anger flashed across her face. Nicholas’ smile widened as he realized Durley would have to answer to his sister’s wrath very much later.

She did not offer a reply. She simply looked away, waiting for his next words. She was not making this easy, Nicholas noted wryly.

He took a deep breath and uncrossed his legs. Leaning his forearms on his thighs, Nicholas tried to catch her eyes and he did not care if she could clearly see him now or not. He did not care if he was but a mere shadow in front of her. What he wanted was for her to hear his words.

“Why did you not tell me one year ago, Sophie? When I came to accuse you?”

She blinked, her eyes moistening with tears. Why was she fighting this?

“Because you thought it was the only way for me to never return,” he answered for her. When her face hardened, Nicholas added, “Why the bloody hell would you not want me to come back, Sophie?”

When she kept her silence, Nicholas nearly growled. “I believe you are partially blind, Sophie, not mute.”

Finally she opened her mouth and her voice was shook as she hissed, “Because Marcus was planning to spy on you further because Osegod wanted it and I did not want to do it!” She lifted her chin in an attempt of a haughty mien but a tear dropped from her eye and landed on her tightly clasped hands. “There. You have your answer. Now, can I go and call for my brother? Unless you have more questions you wish answered to help you sleep peacefully at night?”

Nicholas did not bother to hear the last part of her speech for he was looking at her incredulously. “So you thought it was best that I hate you?”

An eyebrow arched high as she curtly replied. “Yes.”

“You had many chances, Sophie. Did you realize that I took you against your will because of the fury I had over the ambush? You could have saved us both the trouble—”

“You wanted to know more about my brother and I did not want to tell you. The ambush was not truly a part of your goal. The anger over it was merely what pushed you to do what you did. There was no use correcting you on that regard. It does not change anything.”

“It does!” He reached for her and grabbed her by the shoulders. He gave her a shake. “It does when I am bloody hell in love with you, damn you!”

Sophia did not even show her surprise. Of course his words were no longer a secret. But what infuriated Nicholas was that she replied with a sigh and a question. “What do you want, Nicholas? That I confess the same?”

“No, because I already believe that you love me in return,” he snapped, making her blink with confusion. “What I want is that you stop looking down on yourself.”

Suddenly her eyes blazed with anger. “I do not—”

“No, you claim you do not. You do not hate yourself or your color, but you care what others shall think of the people who associate themselves with you!” He took her hands in his and squeezed. “Can you not trust us to defend our own decisions? Can you not trust me to face my choices?”

She tried to pull her hands away but he held firm. If he let her go now, he would merely tire himself by going after her and at the moment Nicholas was in no condition to ride his horse to Rock’oles and abduct a colored woman and bring her to Tiny Town. He would rather travel back to Whiston with her and allow his mother the luxury of planning the grand wedding she never had the chance to when Maxwell eloped to Tiny Town with Maxine. Again, he could picture Lady Alice’s blue eyes twinkling as she discussed the colors of flowers, ribbons, laces and many other things that ought to be a part of a wedding other than the bishop and the church.

Nicholas brushed the thoughts away, concentrating on what was at hand.

“Sophie,” he gently said, pulling her closer toward her. “Sophie, will you listen to me?”

“If you promise to speak with sense, yes.”

“Many question my sense, Sophie, my family amongst them,” he admitted, “but I also believe that they have already come to terms with my tendency to be gullible, foolish and even careless. And wanting you make those propensities even worse. And I do not want to spend the rest of my days wanting you. I want to want you with you.”

Sophia shook her head and groaned. “Nick, you are being—”

“I am being rational, Sophia. And you are making things difficult.”

“You are asking me to marry you!”

“Of course I bloody am!”

Reality must have finally dawned upon her for she finally paused and her eyes went wide. Nicholas could swear he even heard her small gasp of surprise. When she finally blinked, returning to reality, her next question almost made him groan. “After you have abducted me?”

He winced. “Perhaps you can forgive me later.”

He saw her resolve start to wane as she scoffed. “I do not remember you asking for my forgiveness.”

“I am sorry,” he immediately uttered. “I am sorry for abducting you. I am sorry for hating you.”

“No, do not feel sorry for hating me for I pushed you to—”

“And I am sorry if I cannot let your brother take you away from here,” he continued, not hearing her. “And I am sorry that if he ever gets in the way, I will have the two footmen and the entire population of Puck to tie him inside the village chapel while I take you to Tiny Town. And I am sorry that he shall be fed with Fanny’s cooking until we return as husband and wife.”

Nicholas’s heart swelled as he heard a chuckle escape through her lips and a tear rolled down her eyes. He reached up to wipe it off with a finger.

“And I am sorry that you will be subjected to more ire and face more scandals after I take you as my wife. I am sorry that Wickhurst will not grow to like you as fast as they did two of my sisters-in-law. I am sorry if my family will be overly protective of you and smother you with dramatic speeches and many other acts worthy of feigning a faint to survive.” He bent down to press the back of her fingers against her lips. “I am sorry.”

Sophia’s laughter rumbled in her chest, her shoulders shaking and her tears streaming down her face. “I do not have a name, Nick. I am merely Katerina Elizabeth. I am not even Sophia.”

Nicholas looked up and saw the acceptance reflected in her eyes despite her words. “You will always be Sophia to me, darling. Katerina Elizabeth does not exist until you remember her.” He leaned forward to press his lips against hers. “And you do have a name,” he whispered in his kiss. “From this moment on, you will forever be an Everard.”

---

“The bloody bastard is pacing outside your bedchamber holding the bust of clay with his handsome face molded on it,” Marcus said to Sophia.

Sophia smiled as she dried her tears.

“And he told me you have finally become a fool to accept his proposal.”

She chuckled shakily. “It does not mean the marriage shall happen very soon,” she tried to assure her brother. “I cannot very well go away and—”

“You are free to go now, Sophia,” Marcus interrupted. “Marry the bloody bastard before he comes to Rock’oles whining like a child and disrupt the place again.”

Sophia shook her head. “I cannot leave you, Marcus. Not when you are having difficulties with Osegod.”

“Sophia,” Marcus sternly said, taking the seat that Nicholas had hesitantly vacated earlier when she demanded that she wanted to speak to her brother alone. “I do not wish to keep you away from your own happiness now that you have finally found it.” He took her hand. “And perhaps it is best that you are far from me. Osegod knows of my secret but he does not know about you. We cannot wait for that to happen. He shall use me for his plans in return for his silence but I cannot allow him to find a need to use you. He wanted you while thinking you are my mistress. He would even want you more should he learn you are my sister. If we stay together, he is bound to find out.”

“But what do you plan to do, Marcus? Osegod can talk anytime and if he does, the Trilbys will know.”

“No, he will not for he still finds a need for my cooperation . What I am planning to do is dangerous and I do not hope for you to be in the middle of it all. Before they discover our true connection, it is best that we part.”

Sophia started to shake her head. “No, Marcus. We found each other. I do not wish to lose you again—”

“Once I am done, Sophia, I will come to you,” Marcus patiently interrupted.

Sophia felt a lump in her throat, panic rising inside her. “But I will worry for you. I cannot be happy knowing you are somewhere putting yourself in danger.”

“I will not disappear. I will be around, Sophia. I always will be.”

“Marcus—”

“Do you truly believe I can give you the happiness Whiston can?” her brother asked, squeezing her hands. A whimper escaped her throat when she heard the break in her brother’s voice. “No, I cannot, my dear, for I am a broken man.”

“Marcus, please, we can live our lives in peace. I can marry Nicholas and you can find a woman who shall give you happiness and help you heal. Please, let your hatred go—”

“No.” The finality in her brother’s words caused her shoulders to sag with grief. “We have already talked about this, Sophia. My plans remain the same. As for you, you are lucky to have no memory of the past and you must take it to your advantage. Do not wish to remember. Simply make new memories.”

Sophia was now shaking with tears. She was not crying for herself, she was crying for the man holding her hand. She had done her best to convince him that his vengeance would merely ruin him.

But how could one ruin one that already was?

“Marcus, how can I ever leave you? I am your sister.”

“And I am your brother and it shall never change,” he whispered. “But I believe you also do love him immensely and that too shall not change. If you stay with me, Sophia, you will learn to hate me for the hate I harbor inside is too great for both of us. I will never rest until I get my revenge and I do not want to lose you should I finally get it.” Sophia leaned forward to wrap her arms around her brother’s neck. He let her and pulled her in a warm embrace. “I want you to choose the Everards to save you and to save myself. The time will come when I will come and find you. I will be at peace once my goal is met, but I will be even more broken. I would need you to help me fix myself. And I need you safe.”

Sophia was shaking her head when her brother gently pushed away from her. She tried to desperately look at him, to see beyond the familiar shadows and it was amongst the moments wherein she hated not seeing him.

She reached up to touch his face and found that they were dry. He could not even bring himself to cry.

“Marcus…” she choked, crying for the broken man in her arms. “Promise me you will find me. All the time you can spare, find me. I demand that you do. Even if it is merely a passing whisper in the streets or a short greeting in the opera for I swear to you, dear brother, I shall be attending hundreds of them. Find me where it is safe. Find me often, Marcus, please.”

Marcus chuckled and leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead. Sophia’s eyes closed tightly at the act. “Now, sister, you must start your new life with a scandal. I believe the Everards do have the propensity of causing the most shocking ones. I shall expect an increase in income for the Herald publication in the coming months.”

Her tearful laughter filled the room.

He did not promise but Sophia heard it in his voice. This was farewell for now, but she knew he shall find her often.

XXXIII. Unexpected Unwelcome

If Nicholas thought that taking Sophia to Wickhurst shall be welcomed by his mother, he was utterly wrong.

Lady Alice was surprised, yes, but she also showed nothing else. She was not devastated, but she was oddly silent when Nicholas introduced his fiancée to her and Emma. His sister made it easier by claiming that Miss Sophia was a friend she had the honor to meet during the Theobald party.

Disappointed as he was with his mother’s reaction, Nicholas did not let it deter him from his plans to announce his engagement on the Herald next week. His mother shall get over her shock soon enough. Marrying a colored woman, particularly one from Rock’oles, was just not done. Of course, Lady Alice deserved time to further sort her feelings.

But Sophia was the first to suggest that they must take into account his mother’s feelings. She took a moment to speak to him alone while Lady Alice disappeared to discuss with the housekeeper their plans for dinner. Emma went out to send notes to the rest of the family.

“I could remain your mistress, Nick,” she even dared say, making Nicholas cry in outrage.

He paced around the parlor like a caged wild boar. “I want the biggest scandal. I want everyone to know you are mine. So no, Sophie, you shall be my wife.”

“I cannot clearly see your mother’s face, Nick, but I am not numb to not feel that she does not like this at all.”

“She is merely surprised. She will come to accept it soon.”

The planned dinner with his mother and Emma turned into a feast for almost the entire family except Benedict and Levi. Ysabella and Wakefield were the first to arrive with his sister pulling Sophia to her feet to introduce to her husband.

“She is the Miss Sophia I told you about, William,” she said, to which her husband replied with a bow and a kiss on Sophia’s hand. “She spoke very highly of your beauty, Miss Sophia and I must agree. You are more beautiful than my wife!” Wakefield uttered, causing Sophia to blush.

When Ralph arrived looking like he ran all the way from his own apartment to the Everard estate, it was Emma and Ysabella who dragged him to meet Sophia. It was their first meeting and considering Ralph’s experience from the ambush, Nicholas took it upon himself to pull his brother aside and tell him the truth behind the attack.

Not five minutes later, Ralph was already unveiling Nicholas’ dirtiest secrets in front of Sophia and the others.

Maxwell and Maxine arrived with their daughter who was introduced as Emmie, Bea and Max by anyone who had already chosen their own moniker for the babe.

Maxwell took Nicholas aside to ask, “I am not surprised you are marrying her, Nick, but I must admit I am surprised Mother is completely quiet in one corner. She is not sick, is she?”

His eyes went to Lady Alice who was sitting in a winged chair, looking at Sophia with a frown on her face. Suddenly he grew uncomfortable. Could his mother be considering their family’s reputation? After having almost begged Agatha to marry Benedict in the midst of a scandal of her being a witch? After she showed her support when Levi and Maxwell eloped with their respective wives? After she showed Cole kindness despite what he caused Benedict in the past?

What did she see in her children-in-law that she could not seem to see in Sophia? What could she not accept? Sophia’s color?

“Do not do it,” Maxwell said when he made an attempt to go to their mother. “She will get over it.”

“But I do not wish for Sophia to feel unwanted,” he insisted. “Look at her, Max, she keeps gazing over our mother as if she can see her!”

Maxwell simply shrugged and patted his shoulder.

“You just shrugged. What the bloody hell does that mean?”

“Be patient,” Maxwell said, walking away.

Before dinner was ready, Margaret and Cole arrived, leaving their children with the nannies. Margaret’s eyes immediately went to search for Sophia. Nicholas tensed as he watched his sister approach his fiancée who, at that moment, was being surrounded by Ralph, Maxine, Ysabella and Emma.

Margaret did smile and whatever his sister said it must have been pleasant enough to elicit a warm smile from Sophia. She then turned to introduce her husband who was surprised when Ralph uttered, “Do come near, Devitt, for Miss Sophia cannot clearly see.” And to which Sophia further provided, “I am almost blind, my lord, please forgive the inconvenience.”

Nicholas saw his mother sigh and shake her head. He was tempted once more to approach her but Maxwell came back to drag him back to where Sophia was. “Not tonight, brother,” Maxwell whispered. “I believe a dog is standing guard outside. Perhaps Bea would love to play with it,” he said, louder this time.

---

Dinner was pleasant enough save for the lack of enthusiasm from their mother. While Ysabella and Emma entertained Sophia with stories of their childhood, sometimes with Ralph interrupting with questions as to why Sophia decided to say yes to marry his brother, Nicholas could not keep his eyes away from Margaret.

His sister, having sensed his gaze, rolled her eyes and sighed. She lifted her hands in the air to show that she had long yielded and he nodded with a smile. It was enough for him.

No one dared ask Sophia about her past. Nicholas did not warn them. It was simply sensed that it was not the time to do so.

Before dinner was over, Maxwell finally had enough. Nicholas had taken his advice and decided to postpone the conversation with their mother, but it seemed that Maxwell thought it best to discuss it with their stomachs full.

“Mother, I believe you ought to say something,” he said, breaking the chatter from the end of the table. Emma and Ysabella snapped their head toward Maxwell to silently relay their panic. Nicholas kicked his brother under the table but Maxwell held his ground and continued, giving their mother a wry look, “Is it not about time you address Sophia and welcome her into the family?” Nicholas saw Maxine elbow her husband but Maxwell took her hand in an act to restrain her while keeping his gaze fixed on their mother.

Sophia turned pale. Nicholas searched for her hand to assure her that everything was under control but he did not truly believe it. Margaret was awkwardly hooding her face with one hand while Cole and Wakefield gulped down a glass of water. Ralph was pretending to find something wonderful over his head.

“My lord, her ladyship does not need to do so. Truly, I understand,” Sophia said, blindly searching for Maxwell amongst the shadows surrounding the long dining table.

Lady Alice swallowed her food and took her precious time to reach for her drink and sip from it. One could say she reveled at the tense silence. Everyone’s eyes were on her now, except for Ralph who was still staring at the ceiling with mocked curiosity. No one seemed to be breathing as Lady Alice cleared her throat.

“You must realize, Nicholas, that I am surprised,” she said, blue eyes directly looking at Nicholas. “Utterly so.”

“Yes,” he said, jaw tight. “But I was hoping you would be the first to show your support, Mother.”

Lady Alice frowned. “You mean to say that you believe I do not?” she asked. When Nicholas did not reply, she gasped and looked around the table. “Each one of you believes I do not accept this union?” When everyone else nodded, she snapped at Ralph, “Oh, for God’s sake, Ralph, keep your eyes off the ceiling at once!” Ralph did as ordered. “And leave the poor dog alone,” when Ralph started to distract himself by reaching for Aabha sitting in one corner of the room. Lady Alice scanned the table with horrified eyes once again. “You all believe I do not accept Sophia?”

At that moment, Nicholas saw the hesitation and confusion register on everyone, including Sophia. He, on the other hand, was starting to feel relief coming back as he realized his mother was about to utter something incredulously dramatic and witty.

And so he asked the question that was on everyone’s mind. “Then why have you been acting so devastated? You barely said a word since we arrived.”

Lady Alice blinked. Her hand went to her chest in a dramatic fashion, the same way Ysabella would do it. Nicholas then saw his siblings sigh and shake their heads. And they had a reason to be so.

“I was merely thinking of many things all at once!” Lady Alice defensively cried out. “Do you realize the amount of people who would want to secure an invitation to this wedding? Almost the entire population of Wickhurst, if not the entire Town! And we all have to filter the list to ensure that only those that we hold dear shall be present.” She awkwardly cleared her throat before she continued. “And of course, I had to make a mental list of all my present friends who shall no longer be considered my friends once this scandal gets out. Now, do not think my friends are the worst, but some of them can be very opinionated. I believe I shall expect three or five of them to want to dissuade me but they are friends I can live without. And I have to deal with the gossipmongers. A strategy is of utmost importance now. That horrible Lady Gedge shall make a feast of you, dear.” She addressed the last statement to Sophia.

Ralph let out a snort. Maxwell resumed eating. Cole and Wakefield were biting a smile. Margaret was absently nodding her head. Ysabella and Emma were whispering in each other’s ears.

And Sophia was crying.

Nicholas was certain he was going to join her. He was almost about to cry with relief.

But their mother was not done. Once Lady Alice started talking, there was no stopping her. “And what of the other ladies in Rock’oles? They would wish to be invited as well, yes?” she asked Sophia.

Nicholas groaned.

Emma whispered across the table to Sophia, “She knows everything. I would not even be surprised if she is familiar with the corridors in that place.”

Sophia shook her head and with tears in her eyes she said, “I have no friends in Rock’oles, my lady.”

“You call me mother,” Lady Alice snapped and dramatically sighed. “How often do I have to insist that from everyone?” She directed her gaze to Ralph. “You. Should you bring a woman here, you must train her to call me mother. I do not wish to look so foolish demanding to be called one.”

“I shall ask her to call you Heavenly Mother , Mother,” Ralph said with a wicked grin. “For you are a saint.”

“Nonsense and blasphemous!” Lady Alice said with a wave of her hand.

Her gaze went to Nicholas. “And now I have to find out that Sophia is almost blind. How do you ken will she arrive to the foot of the altar alone? Unless she has someone to walk her down the aisle?”

Nicholas squeezed Sophia’s hand when she saw the tortured look on her face. Durley would not have the chance to walk her down the aisle.

“I can walk her,” Ralph said, raising his hand.

“No, you shall serve as a guard outside the cathedral. And yes, I am referring to the biggest cathedral in Wickhurst. You keep those with bad intensions away from the solemn ceremony. And do make certain those bloody photographers are not in sight. Poor Sophia shall have her face on the front page of the Herald for weeks if those men ever get a chance.”

“Photos I may never have the chance to appreciate,” Sophia could not help but add as she wiped her hands.

Everyone looked stunned as they heard her mock her condition.

Lady Alice was the first to laugh, followed by everyone else.

“I was about to say that, dear, but I was afraid you will not find it an appropriate joke.”

Sophia chuckled tearfully. “So long as I do not see you making a mocking face, I do not mind at all, my lady.”

Everyone chuckled harder, even Maxwell.

Nicholas ran his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh.

His mother was fine. She had not grown horns. She was still the Lady Alice he knew.

“I told you they smother,” he whispered in Sophia’s ear.

---

The next day, the mystery of Mrs. Beagle’s monthly disappearance was given highlight.

While Lady Alice was listing down the many errands they must do that afternoon with Sophia, fitting gowns and shopping shoes being the most paramount, Emma came rushing in with Mrs. Beagle in her arms.

Nicholas was about to cry out about the cat and reveal its true identity as both Brigid and Mrs. Beagle when the feline jumped out of Emma’s arms to go to Sophia.

Sophia gasped in surprise but soon realized what was sitting on her lap. She gasped even louder as she realized who it was. Aabha confirmed it by nuzzling her head with Mrs. Beagle’s.

Emma stood stupefied and confused while Nicholas chuckled.

“Emma,” he said, “I must have forgotten to tell you that I solved the mystery behind your treacherous cat.”

Emma’s frown deepened until understanding dawned on her. Sophia gasped at the same time, understanding what Nicholas was meaning to say.

“No!” Emma and Sophia cried in unison.

“Yes,” Nicholas said, standing to his feet. “Excuse us for a while, Mother, while we solve this mystery,” he said to Lady Alice who was already studying Mrs. Beagle, giving the feline a disapproving look, one that a mother would give to her daughter after a very naughty act.

Nicholas stood between Emma and Sophia who remained in her chair with Mrs. Beagle in her lap. He faced his sister and pointed at the black cat. “This is Brigid, Sophia’s cat.” He turned to Sophia and laughingly added, “That, darling, is Mrs. Beagle, Emma and Ysabella’s cat.” When Sophia started to shake her head in denial, Nicholas bent down to snatch Mrs. Beagle away from her and tucked the protesting feline under his arm. “I have told you she is Mrs. Beagle. I insisted it.”

“But she is—”

“—Brigid, yes,” he said with a laugh. He turned to Emma. “She has been disappearing to Rock’oles in the months she was missing here.”

Emma’s eyes were wide. She fixed them on Mrs. Beagle. And finally, she raised her finger and pointed at the feline. “You unfaithful leech!”

Lady Alice’s laughter filled the breakfast room.

It took almost an entire hour before Emma and Sophia finally conceded and decided to call Mrs. Beagle Mrs. Beagle whenever she was with Emma and Brigid whenever she was with Sophia.

The feline arrangement was as complicated as the wedding plans.

XXXIV. Sweet

Wickhurst was in total ruckus when the Town Herald finally announced the wedding of Nicholas Charles Everard, the Lord of Whiston.

Lady Alice expertly perfected the timing of accompanying her future daughter-in-law to gown fittings and shopping, displaying Sophia for everyone else to see and gawk on.

“You simply ignore them, dear,” she said to Sophia. “Imagine the shadows on their face as smiles if that helps,” she suggested. “But also be wary for their souls can be as dark as their shadows. Not all of them, of course, but still… simply smile. If I squeeze your hand, it is a sign that we are talking to a friend. If I softly clear my throat, we are facing someone who believes we like them but in reality we do not—or should I say we cannot. If I push you to keep walking, you keep walking.”

“Why?” she laughingly asked, amused by Lady Alice’s instructions.

“Why what dear?”

“What does a push means?”

“Oh, well,” her future mother-in-law said with a wicked tone, whispering, “If I push you, it means we are facing a monster. But we are graceful. We do not wish to clash with monsters, do we?”

Sophia chuckled.

“But should it happen, you step back, dear, while I give them a fair amount of graceful verbal lashes.”

Sophia shook her head. “You are proving to be just as how Nick said you will be.”

“Mother,” the woman insisted. “You call me mother.”

Her face flushed as she muttered, “Mother.”

Lady Alice sighed beside her. “You will get used to it, dear. Now, come along. We must hurry. Benedict and Agatha are due to arrive in an hour.”

Sophia swallowed nervously. She was not ecstatic to meet the eldest Everard brother although she was eager to meet his wife who owned a school for servants near their Devonshire estate. She already had the pleasure of meeting Levi and his wife, Lady Victoria, merely three days after they arrived in Wickhurst. The Everard estate had never been quiet ever since with the children running about and with their aunts and uncles joining the fray most afternoons.

As to Sophia, she was overwhelmed. She was already in love with the Everards.

But she was longing for Marcus as well.

Her brother had not reached out, but she hoped he would make his presence known soon. He did not have to attend her wedding, but she would appreciate if he could spare some time for a short meeting.

But it seemed impossible at the moment for Marcus could not be chummy with the Everards if he wished to be accepted by the Trilbys. The two families were like water and oil.

“Now, dear, I am about to give you a push,” Lady Alice whispered in her ear as they walked down the street, snapping Sophia back to reality. “We are walking right through a crowd of monsters.”

“We can simply walk through them,” she suggested.

“Ah, it is best we practice,” her future mother-in-law said, giving her a gentle push to the side.

---

The scandal and gossips were not new. Some were true, some were too farfetched to even be considered gossips. But no article was released that spoke grave ill of Sophia.

Nicholas could not help but believe Durley had something to do with it, but the man was too driven by his own goals that Nicholas would not be surprised if he allowed worse articles to be printed just to stray away from suspicion.

If Durley was not responsible for the lack of harsher articles, then perhaps the credit ought to go to Samuel Theobald. The man once more caused a sensation by writing another article that warned the entire town of Wickhurst of its tendency to judge harshly. Many were awed by his courage to reveal the ugly truth behind everyone’s façade. As for the Everards, they knew they found a great ally.

Scandals and gossips aside, Nicholas tried his best to get word to Durley for the two months the wedding was being planned. There was no indication that his secret notes were received by Durley and no reply was ever delivered.

He would not have tried if he was not aware of Sophia’s longing for her brother. She was also worried and he fretted over it as well. They could never truly be happy unless Durley showed himself.

The bastard had disappeared. His name was still being mentioned on the Herald, but the circle he associated himself with was not the same as the Everard’s. Sophia had gone to countless operas with Nicholas and Lady Alice in hope that her brother would take advantage of the dark environment to come up to her. Every time she left disappointed.

Lady Alice once noted of Sophia’s sadness but Nicholas explained that there were parts in Sophia’s life that were not yet ready to be revealed due to important reasons. Their mother graciously accepted it and never mentioned it again.

Nicholas could not bring himself to sleep when the night before the wedding finally came. He would soon be a married man. He knew he would not miss his rakehell days. But why was he restless?

He escaped his bedchamber when he thought sleep was not coming and crept into Sophia’s room where he found her awake, sitting in bed with Aabha beside her.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed as he closed the door and locked it.

Nicholas grinned and climbed on the bed, slipping under the covers beside her. Aabha jumped off with a whine. “I cannot sleep, Sophie,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her neck. “I cannot wait to bring you home to Whiston. We shall spend the rest of our days in our bedchamber.”

She muffled a laugh as she playfully pushed him away. “Mother will not like it. We did promise to live a few months in your estate in Vinge and Dosette before settling in Whiston. And I promised to accompany her to Devonshire two months from now.”

“Two months from now you shall be carrying our child,” Nicholas said, wrapping an arm around her as he nipped her ear. “Travel will then prove to wear you out.”

“And you plan to wear me out,” she dryly said, snuggling closer. “We cannot make love tonight, Nicholas.”

His hand slipped under the hem of her nightgown. “Why ever not?”

“Because I say so and I want to wait until after the wedding,” she said, pushing his hand away. “Simply hold me. I wish to sleep.”

He groaned against her neck. “I will suffer through the wedding, Sophie.”

Sophia just chuckled, closing her eyes. Silence fell between them. “Nick,” she murmured later.

“Yes?”

“I am afraid.”

He pulled her closer against his length. “Need not, darling. Do you worry about the gossip not settling down? That everyone will never come to accept you?” She kept quiet. “There is always a first for everything and we, the Everards, have always started a vogue the entire Wickhurst would follow.” He planted a kiss on her temple. “Just you wait a few more years, Sophie, and you will no longer be the only colored woman with a title.”

“You truly believe it?”

“I claim it to be true,” he said, giving her a squeeze. When she smiled, he cleared his throat. “I received a letter from my former lover, Carmel.”

Sophia’s snort was muffled by his nightshirt. “If you intend to make me jealous, my lord, you are miserably failing.”

His chin bent to his chest as he narrowed his eyes at her solemn face, her eyes still closed. “You do not wish to know what she wrote?” he prodded.

She feigned to be asleep, not answering.

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Carmel wishes me happiness.”

Sophia leaned away and with her eyes open, she blindly looked up at him with a tender smile. She tipped her head to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Nicholas reveled at the sweet taste of her lips.

Sophia pulled away before he could even start to deepen the kiss and said, “Nick, should you ever lose me, you must find someone like Carmel—someone who wishes for your happiness.”

Nicholas shook his head and buried his face in her dark curls, inhaling her scent, feeding his very soul. “There is no one who shall ever be at par, Sophie. There never will be anyone and you must believe me for I have seen them all.”

Her chuckle vibrated through him. “You rake!” she said, slapping his arm.

Nicholas closed his eyes. “A rake who loves one woman. Now, that is something you must be very proud of.”

He felt her lips against his chest where his heart was. “I do love you too, Nicholas Charles Everard.” And she added, “The Lord of Whiston who cannot whistle.”

He growled. “Do not provoke me, Sophie. I am just starting to fall asleep.”

Sophia laughed and snuggled closer. With a sigh, she said, “Sleep tight, my lord. Tomorrow shall be a sweet one.”

---

Nicholas was surprised when Ralph broke the ruckus in his bedchamber in his apartment in the junction of Vinge Road and Dosett Street and announced to his brothers, “Everyone, please leave Nicholas alone for a moment.”

Maxwell wryly asked from where he was comfortably sitting. “Why?”

Ralph smiled. “He is to experience his own rite of passage.”

It took a moment for everyone to realize what Ralph meant. The brothers, including Margaret, were aware of Sophia’s relationship with Lord Durley.

Ralph did not have to elaborate further for Benedict, Levi and Maxwell readily jumped to their feet and filed out of the room in less than a minute.

Ralph chuckled. He looked at Nicholas’ astounded face and winked. “He told me we should find him. He finds us.”

When his brother finally left, the connecting door that led to another bedchamber opened and Durley came out.

Nicholas frowned. “How long had you been there?”

Durley sighed. “Enough to hear every bloody thing your brothers had to say about you. Although I must admit that Devonshire and Kenward are growing on me. They are not ones who talk too much like the lot of you.”

“You ought to have gone to Sophia first,” he said. “She is in my mother’s estate at the moment.”

Durley shook his head. “Everyone’s eyes are on the bride, Whiston. I cannot risk it.”

“Are you here to give me a good beating?”

Durley scoffed. “I do not have the time to do it thoroughly.” He walked to the nearest chair. “I cannot walk my sister down the aisle, Whiston, but I will be there to see her do so.”

“And risk being seen?”

“As I said, everyone’s eyes are always on the bride.”

“And you came here to tell me so?”

Durley allowed a smile and a look of warning. “Take care of her.”

“That is already a given.”

“Make her happy.”

“Already being done.”

“Then keep her happy.”

“With pride.”

“Tell her to be patient.”

Nicholas sighed with frustration. “She would appreciate it if you tell her so yourself. She is dying with worry.”

Durley stood up. He reached inside his coat pocket and handed Nicholas a sealed letter. “This is for her. Give it to her.”

Nicholas shook his head. “No, you give it to her.”

Durley narrowed his eyes. “Do not make me throttle your bloody neck, Whiston.”

“I cannot properly tie a cravat, Durley. Throttling me shall cause a problem later.”

Durley pushed the note into his palm. “Give this to her and tell her to be patient. I shall come and find her soon.”

Nicholas’ jaw tightened but he nodded. He pocketed the note.

Durley started to leave but Nicholas stopped him. “Please tell me you are all right.”

When the man gave him an incredulous look, Nicholas rolled his eyes. “I do not care of your well-being, but your sister does. She would want to know if you are all right.”

“I am being careful,” Durley snapped. “That is all she needs to know.”

“Are you being cared for? Fed with good meals? Who takes care of you? Are you well-guarded?” Nicholas could not help but add with mockery as Durley walked to the door.

“Bloody get lost, you bastard,” the man said over his shoulder before he disappeared.

Nicholas shook his head with a smile. Durley might just be the best brother-in-law.

---

Nicholas was already in the cathedral waiting inside a chamber while the rest of his family were outside, probably facing the most unwanted tasks.

He, on the other hand, was growing impatient.

The wedding ought to have started by now but the hundreds of guests had made it impossible to start on time.

He paced around the room, deep in thought, looking at the note he meant to give to Sophia. She would be thoroughly happy to receive one from her brother.

He tucked it inside his jacket once again and checked the time.

“Bloody tarnation,” he hissed, whirling around to exit the room.

He was met by Benedict and Maxwell. “Where are you going?”

“Wait for my bride. Or fetch her if I must,” he snapped, storming down the corridor.

“Mother and Sophia had already left the estate, Nick,” Maxwell reassured. His brothers followed him down the corridor, past the hundreds of guests.

“Nick! Nick!” Emma said, walking toward him. “The carriage is coming. Go to your post at once.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes and sighed. “Bloody finally.”

His sister narrowed her eyes and murmured, “Please lower your voice. We are inside a bleedin’ church.”

Nicholas scoffed and shook his head. “Nick!” Emma called out and gave him a reassuring smile. “She is very beautiful.”

He grinned proudly. “I know.”

Ignoring the stares of the guests, Nicholas walked to the altar to wait for Sophia.

His heart began to beat faster as he heard the sound of the carriage approach outside. He shifted in anticipation and then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw Benedict standing beside him. “I took the liberty of assigning myself as the groomsman,” his older brother murmured.

Nicholas shook his head. “How did you decide?”

“Chess, of course.” He scoffed. “Levi was the first to give up. Ralph lost in under an hour and he whined all night. Maxwell simply claimed to be sleepy and left in the middle of the game.”

“You lucky bastard,” he said to his brother.

Benedict chuckled and they both stood in silence as the carriage drew to a stop outside the church.

Everyone turned in their seats to see the bride.

When Benedict stepped forward with a frown, Nicholas did the same. Something was awry. The line for the entourage had broken and people were crowding around the large entrance of the cathedral.

When Margaret emerged and signaled for Nicholas and Benedict, Nicholas ran down the aisle, his heart hammering against his chest, fear surging up his spine.

The panic on his siblings’ faces merely worsened the moment and Nicholas asked, “What is the matter?” Wide-eyed, he glanced around and found that the carriage was parked outside the church. “What is it!” he demanded.

Nicholas could hear Ysabella’s voice from inside the carriage calling for help. He saw Ralph pushing the crowd away, shouting, “Call the Guards!”

Nicholas felt as though the ground was moving under his feet as he stumbled forward, pushing his way through the growing crowd.

“Get out of the way!” he vaguely heard Maxwell shouting.

“Mother!” Emma was shouting.

“Step aside!” Nicholas shouted at the top of his lungs until he was finally facing the open carriage door.

His eyes widened even further when he saw his mother looking white as paper, shaking in Ysabella’s arms, tears streaming down her face.

He looked around and found no sign of Sophia. He was beginning to feel the ground crumble under his feet. He could barely hear his mother as his ears began to ring.

“Where is she?” he asked. He could not hear his own voice.

His mother was wailing. Everyone else was shouting.

“Where is she!” Nicholas shouted to hear his own voice. Was anyone hearing him?

His mother was saying something through her tears. She was holding out a piece of paper to him.

Benedict took the note from their mother’s outstretched hand and read.

Nicholas whirled around. He had to find her. Where was she?

Hands grabbed him by the shoulders and he found himself facing Benedict’s fretful look. Benedict rarely allowed worry on his face. And panic.

Nicholas shook his head as his brother showed him the note.

He closed his eyes to keep the ringing at bay but it persisted. Fear and an impending sense of desolation were gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

He opened his eyes again to read the note with shaky hands.

The sweetest vengeance is given to the patient one. You take mine, I take yours. Felicitations to a wedding that never was, dear Everards.

XXXV. Fiction

“This is unfair,” Violet whined, curled at the end of the couch beside her twin who was sniffing and wiping her tears.

“Not fair at all,” Valerie choked. “You only talked about how Nick rescued Sophia from Rock’oles. There was no mention of a brother. And the wedding happened!”

Fiona Trilby shared a mournful look with her husband. “This is why I wrote the fiction,” she uttered.

“How much of them is fiction, Gram?” Violet asked. “Which book did you start weaving the fiction?”

It was their Gramp Eddie who answered. “Nicholas’ story, I believe.”

Valerie groaned in her tears. “Then how much of Ralph’s story is true?”

Their grandmother cleared her throat, looking guilty. “I merely wrote the fun parts.”

“What!”

She raised her hands and said, “I left out the horrid ones but the fun parts are true.”

“And Emma’s?” asked the twins in unison.

Edmund Trilby sighed. “I believe we must make more tea.”

Violet buried her face in her hands and groaned in frustration.

“Emma’s story is almost entirely fiction, I am sad to admit,” their grandmother said.

Valerie turned to her twin. “I do not think I can hear more of this.”

“We’ve been living a lie,” Violet said in exaggeration.

Fiona Trilby merely chuckled.

The twins threw her an accusing look. “You are enjoying our misery.”

“No, but I am quite ecstatic to see your reaction once you know what truly happened.” She looked at her husband. “Go make that tea, Eddie. It is about time we tell these girls my true story before your turn.”

“Urgh,” Violet groaned. “There’s more?”

Edmund simply chucked as he stood up.

As their grandfather went to the kitchen, the twins continued to look at their grandmother. “Why, Gram? Why change the last three books?” Valerie asked.

Fiona looked over her shoulder where her husband was before she smiled at the twins. “Because, my dears, I meant to preserve your grandfather’s family.”

Valerie scoffed. “Why? They did not really care about him. We know he is not like the rest of them, Gram.”

Fiona nodded. “Perhaps I will never be able to explain why I changed the stories. Maybe I did get too carried away. A writer always does, see?”

The twins sighed. Violet counted with her fingers as she started to summarize the facts. “Ben, Levi, Maggie, Ysa and Max got their happy endings. Maxine is really a Trilby, right?” Their grandmother nodded. “Okay, so that is a fact. Good. Osegod is real, right? Because I am hoping he is not.”

“He is real, my dears.”

Valerie groaned with frustration. “Then it was him. It was him who took Sophie.”

“So Sophie did not have the wedding we read about,” Violet continued. “But what about Aurora, Gram? Did she really get caught and disappeared? Never heard of again? Was that fiction or not?”

Their grandmother’s face turned grim. “I am afraid, my dears, that it was worse than that.”

Violet jumped to her feet. “Gramp, I’ll help you make two kettles of tea. We are in for a very long storytelling.”

---

The Everards did not correct everyone else’s assumption that Nicholas Everard’s bride ran away on the day of her wedding. In fact, none of them even bothered to argue with anyone about the rumors.

Because everyone was devastated, Lady Alice amongst them.

She had witnessed how five men stopped their carriage and attacked the two footmen who were supposed to protect them. It took her days to coherently talk about the event, about how she was helpless when they took Sophia away. But like she had always been, she stayed strong.

She demanded answers which her children provided. She vowed to hate Osegod for the rest of her life, but she also vowed to maintain her secrecy. Ysabella and Emma were her constant companions. Nicholas tried to comfort but everyone knew he needed it most.

Margaret asked for help from her fellow Leaguers and was still tirelessly working to find Sophia. But as days went on, as Wickhurst was coming to terms with the devastating event, as the articles on the Herald focused on new gossips, Sophia remained missing.

The days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months.

Nicholas had gone almost half-insane and it took all of his brothers’ efforts to stop him from taking off on his own to search for Sophia on his own.

Ralph was his frequent companion in Whiston where he locked himself from the rest of the Town.

“Mother is getting worried, Nick,” Ralph told his brother that afternoon. He looked at the once empty wall across his brother’s desk. It was now filled with papers, map of the entire town. A red thread traced all places Sophia could possibly be taken to.

Nicholas shrugged as he poured himself a glass of brandy. He threw Ralph a look and said, “Fret not, brother, I am not spending my days foxed. I need to be sober to think. I need to have a clear mind should the day come that I get a clue of where she might be. And you will let me go. No one will stop me if that day ever comes.”

Ralph’s jaw tightened. How could he tell Nicholas the truth? He wanted to but if he did, his brother would merely do what every foolish man in love would. He would storm his way to his own demise.

“At the very least, Nick, please allow our mother more visits.” he uttered instead. “I believe Ysabella and Emma were here yesterday.”

“And we had a pleasant time discussing Emma’s theories,” Nicholas said with a scoff. “I do appreciate that sister of ours, Ralph. She does not see me as a fragile piece of furniture.” His strong gaze locked with Ralph. “It is true.”

Shaking his head, Ralph said, “We do not see you as a man engulfed by grief, Nick. We are merely worried that you are turning into someone else.”

Nicholas wryly chuckled. He walked to sit across Ralph. “This is the price I have to pay for everything,” he said. “One would think we Everards will have it easy what with the name and the wealth.” He looked at Ralph, his eyes barren. “I believed it as well. I lived my life believing everything is attainable. But now…” His jaw tightened and all Ralph could do was gaze with defeat for how could he fill that barren space in his brother’s eyes? He knew the way to bring him back and it would take bloody great efforts and many chances of luck to do so. “She is gone, Ralph. I do not think I can ever go back. Wherever, whoever I was before her… I do not see it anymore.”

Sophia’s dog, Aabha, walked to sit beside Nicholas’ winged chair. His brother absently patted the dog’s head as if they were the only ones left to comfort each other.

“I’ve read Durley’s letter for Sophia countless of times and I still do not think the bastard has her.”

“He does not,” Ralph affirmed. “If he does, he would not have stormed here months ago to beat the soul out of you.”

Nicholas wryly chuckled. “I still believe he is to be the best brother-in-law.”

Ralph scoffed. “I believe he does not feel the same.”

Nicholas finished his brandy and sighed. He gave Ralph an empty look and a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Does he know anything we do not?” Nicholas asked.

Ralph shook his head and did the only thing he knew. He lied. “No.”

Nicholas sighed. “But should he be lying, you will know, yes? We cannot discount the fact that Durley is desperate to have his revenge and he is capable of doing anything to achieve it. If he is working with Osegod, I will have—”

“He is not, Nick,” Ralph said with finality. “And we cannot entirely connect Sophia’s disappearance with Osegod. There are still the Trilbys whom we had a bit of a squabble in the past. We have one of their own under our care and it is possible they may want revenge. An investigation is still active and we have very promising leads.” Nicholas was about to open his mouth and Ralph stopped him by raising his hand. “But I am not here to talk about that. You must think of other things. For one, Ysabella is soon to have a babe of her own.”

“Yes, she already shared the news.”

“And Mother has prepared a sumptuous dinner for us all on the morrow. You must make an appearance.”

His brother merely stared. “I am tired of pretending to be all right, Ralph.”

“But you must for our mother’s sake. She is still partly blaming herself for being helpless during Sophia’s abduction.” Ralph wanted to say more but he chose to let the quiet reign for a long time.

“Ralph,” Nicholas said, breaking the silence. “Is it evil of me to be thinking of wanting to demand for the League to hand Aurora to Osegod in exchange of Sophia?”

Ralph stiffened. “The difference between you and evil, Nick, is that you can never bring yourself to act upon the thought.”

His brother sighed and nodded. “Sophia would hate me for it. And I will hate myself even more.” Nicholas blindly looked at the puzzles on his wall. “She told me to find someone who wished for my happiness should something happen to her.” His brother shook his head, his eyes glassy with tears. “How foolish to ask that of me. I don’t need to find someone else. I just need to find her. I need to rescue her from the hell she must be in.” A tear finally escaped and Nicholas seemed to not even notice it.

Ralph did not offer a word of comfort for there was no comforting his brother now.

He stayed for another hour and left when he thought his resolve was melting. Seeing Nicholas in such a state almost made him spill another devastating detail.

But confessing everything would merely make him angrier.

---

After giving more instruction to Nicholas’ butler and footmen to always watch over their master’s every move, Ralph left but did not go straight to his Wickhurst apartment. He rode straight to his Beechworth estate near Rock’oles where a guest was supposedly waiting.

He went to his private study where not even his household staff was permitted to enter.

As he had expected, Durley was already waiting for him, standing in one dark corner, looking out through the window that faced a wall of rock.

“I assume you came from Whiston?” Durley asked. “How is the bastard doing?”

“As horrible as you,” Ralph snapped. “What do you have, Durley?”

Durley turned and his face was as blank as Nicholas’.

“I believe he is keeping them captive in the southeast. I had word that three of his men are constantly taking the same tracks from Wickhurst to somewhere in the southeastern part of the Town. My men could only follow them to a point.”

“Why the southeast?”

“Most of his allies are located there,” Durley provided, “Tiny Town included.”

Ralph studied Durley closely. “Does he suspect you?”

Durley scoffed. “He always suspects me. He believes he is controlling me and he does so by providing me evidence that my sister is still alive and suffering somewhere.”

“He took them to control us all and he revels on it,” Ralph said, walking to his chair. “But would the rescue mission be far bloody easier if you simply talk?”

Durley shook his head. “And what would come from that? Osegod is too powerful. Should I talk? Yes, perhaps I should. I could burst into the Men of Courts and expose the bloody bastard. Should I provide them proof of our slave trade? Yes, of course, I should. But where would that lead me? Would the League be willing to expose their selves and support my claims? Those bastards survive because of their secrecy. And the entire Leaders do not like them, do you know that? After the conspiracy with the secret passages years ago, the Leaders had lost faith in the League and Osegod is taking that to his advantage. And yes, perhaps the League can take him down, but to stand in the middle of a trial to present their case? No, they will never ever do that. They will still need the help of the Guards who will be representing them, like it was always in the past, should a hearing ensue. And you cannot say the entire Town Guards are clean, Everard. You know Osegod has people inside. Whatever evidence I may present now shall prove to be worthless.” Durley drew in a breath with a mocking smile. “So should I talk? I believe we both know the answer to that. This battle is not to be fought face to face and the battleground is not in the Men of Courts. And we cannot very well kill the bastard even if we can. He has more allies and most of them unidentified. The only way to win against Osegod is to use his wit against him.”

Ralph’s jaw tightened. Durley was right. The League would not expose their anonymous identity to support him for it shall destroy the purpose of their existence. And the Guards could only do so much. What they all had were merely assumptions with very weak concrete proofs. They would never last a day in the Men of Courts.

“I am not providing the League and the Guards anything against Osegod until I find my sister alive,” Durley said with finality. “Taking down Osegod has become my utmost priority now. But first, I want my sister back. And I cannot do that alone now, can I? I am using the lot of you and you shall allow me because we all have the same goal of preserving our own.”

Ralph nodded grimly. “I am doing my best.”

“Not enough. Investigate the southeast and get answers while I distract the bastard. I will be spending most of my time in Willowfair doing so.”

“How do you plan to distract him?”

Durley smiled. “He has a daughter, if you must know.” Ralph’s jaw tightened but he did not utter a word of objection. “Find my sister, Ralph, and bring her back alive. Then we can all feast on Osegod.”

Ralph closed his eyes and pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“You are in such a great dilemma,” Durley said, tone amused.

“And you have the time to find it amusing?” he growled, opening his eyes to glare at Durley.

Durley shook his head. “I have faith that my sister is alive, Everard. Osegod is not a bloody fool to not realize how she can be of great use against us all, but I will not wait for the day he will no longer find her useful. I will send word should I discover more, but I can only do so much. He is watching my every move. One wrong move from me and Sophia might end up dead. I am putting my faith upon you. Find my sister alive and then we can start planning Osegod’s destruction.” Durley tilted his head to the side with a frown. “And I hope we make it in time to rescue the other two he is holding captive.”

Ralph’s face tightened and his hands balled into fists.

“The night Bertram came to the cottage was around the same time he lost them, am I correct?” Durley asked, his tone bare of accusation, merely curious. “And you have not told Whiston about it. He is unaware that Miss Randolph and her child have been abducted from right under the League’s bloody haven of protection.”

“That is enough, Durley.”

But the man was not done. He continued to stare at Ralph, eyes filled with judgment. “You did not tell your brother because you know it would destroy your family. If your dear sister did not take Miss Randolph and her child, Osegod would have spared Sophia. He would have left your family alone.” Ralph could not meet the man’s gaze. “She must be very devastated now, yes? Margaret, I mean. She must believe she caused all of this.”

“Enough!” Ralph gritted out.

“Very well,” Durley said, fixing his coat. “I am not your brother, Ralph. I cannot entirely blame your sister. I dared defy Osegod by attempting to stop the ambush you suffered with your men. I lost his trust from then on. I overestimated the enemy and I have learned my lesson.” He started for the secret door that led to the secret back entrance of the estate. “I merely hope the lot of you realized your own as well. Get over the guilt and trudge on. The fight is not over.”

---

Alex grumpily jumped off her horse and glared at it. “Quiet, Siege,” she hissed at the black mare. She looked over her shoulder and pulled the horse deeper into the Dark Forest.

It protested with a whine.

“Shh!” she shushed. “We can’t have ‘em catch us, Siege. They’ll hang us. And they’ll roast ye, I swear they will!” The horse may never understand humans, but at that moment Alex swore Siege understood her for the mare quieted down and allowed her to lead her deeper in the darkness of the forest. “Bleedin’ Guards,” Alex muttered, stumbling on the uneven ground. “And where’re Ned and Barto, eh? Those bleedin’ idiots better have escaped. My ’Pa will beat our behind if they get caught.”

At the distant sounds of the horses’ hooves, Alex whirled around.

“Don’t enter, don’t enter, don’t enter,” Alex prayed.

The Guards that had been chasing her earlier appeared and Alex stiffened. So did Siege.

But the bloody idiots were heading straight ahead down the road, ignoring the dark forest to their right.

“Shh,” she whispered to Siege, caressing the mare’s mane. She guided the horse back and into the shadows of the trees.

They both waited until the horses and its riders galloped past their line of sight. And they both sighed with relief as the sounds of their would-have-been captors grew distant away and vanished, leaving naught but the sound of the dark forest behind them.

“Now we go home and see if my bleedin’ cousins are still alive,” she said to Siege, turning the horse around to retrace their steps out of the Dark Forest.

But Siege started to neigh with a shrilling pitch that told Alex Siege was stimulated by something. She frowned and looked around. The Guards were gone, were they?

When Siege turned and rose to her hind legs, Alex began to search for the horse’s source of stress. And there she saw her.

“Bleedin’ hell!” she said under her breath as she watched the woman scramble to her feet and fall back on the ground with a pained moan.

Alex rushed forward, eyes wide.

“Oi! Woman, what—” The rest of her question was left unspoken when she finally had a good look of the woman’s state. “Yer hurt!”

The woman was slumped against the dirty ground, her dress covered with mud, her feet bare and covered with dirt and cuts. But those were not the cause of Alex’s alarm for it was the big pool of blood on her backside.

Alex dropped to the ground and turned the woman around. Her face was white as paper, her left eye swollen, a corner of her lips covered with dry blood.

She hovered over the woman and tried to wake her. “Wake up! Wake up!” she hissed, gently slapping the woman’s face.

The woman’s eyes opened, the left one merely halfway, and Alex stared at the blue depths as they focused on her. Alex nearly stumbled back in surprise when suddenly the woman gasped and grasped her arm.

“Oi, calm down,” Alex told her. “Yer hurt. We must take ye somewhere.”

“Help!” the woman said, eyes wide with fear, fresh tears streaming down to her temples. “Help!”

Alex nodded. “Aye, I will. We have to take ye to—”

“Help ’em… please…”

“’Em? Ye mean to say—”

“Them!” the woman struggled. She coughed and Alex’s eyes widened when she saw blood gurgle out of the woman’s mouth. “Help ’em… the other woman… and my baby… please…”

“Bleedin’ hell,” Alex muttered in panic. “Where the bleedin’ hell did you come from? No matter, we must take ye somewhere, aye? Ye can talk later.”

But the woman was losing consciousness. “Get Nick…”

Alex frowned. “Who?”

“Nick… Nicholas… Ever… Everar—”

“Everard?” Alex provided.

“Help ’em… my baby… please…”

Alex’s face tightened. “Very well. But first, ye need help. Yer badly hurt, lady.” But the woman had ceased moving. Alex gave her a shake, her own heart hammering against her chest. “Oi, woman, wake up.” The hands that were gripping her arms merely seconds ago dropped to the ground. Alex searched the woman’s bloodied face and found that the woman’s eyes were still open, a lifeless pair of blue globes.

She let out a gasp and stumbled back, falling on the ground behind her.

Siege whined behind her. “Bleedin’ hell, Siege, she’s dead,” Alex said in horror. “She’s bleedin’ dead!”

Author’s Note

Yes, you just read the last chapter.

I am not kidding, it is truly the last for Remember Then.

Thank you so much for reading my works and for always looking forward for my updates. Heartbroken as we most are, we must look forward to the next story for I promise to deliver what this story never truly had—FUN and ADVENTURE.

As most of you may already know (if you are a part of my Facebook page), I already have a plot for the Everards and the Trilbys. Everything I write is written with a big background plot in mind and I am only excited to move on and unveil each twisted twists and turns!

On a side note, I have been busy lately as I am working with a team to self-publish the Haverston series in the Philippines. If you want to be updated of details, please feel free to be a part of my Facebook page, THE GREEN HERALD. If you cannot join us there, wait for my announcement through WHEN I AM NOT WRITING which you can find among my list of works here on Wattpad.

Again, thank you for the overwhelming support. I am as excited as all of you are to start Ralph’s story. Teasers or excerpts or a blurb may pop up anytime soon.

Yours,

Greenwriter

Masterful Trickery Preview

THE BANDIT

She merely meant to steal and get away with it. 

She did not mean to find a dying woman and be chased for it. 

She merely meant to help.

She did not mean to be dressed in a gown and be a target for murder.

THE GUARD

He was tasked to chase them.

He was not expected to work with them.

He merely meant to pay for an oddly professional service.

He was not expecting it to be complicated and sexually dangerous.

![](https://img.wattpad.com/8da116c42fa5979ac01e96f497ccea55185932bf/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f306572574e7933334245734b4f513d3d2d3434343936303930382e313464336635626432616538386161313635323431343933373536342e706e67)