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A Gentleman by Moonlight

Page 17

by Bethany M. Sefchick


  "I want you, too, Lewis." Sophia's voice was soft and breathy, as if she could not believe she was actually saying the words aloud. "A part of my mind rebels at the idea of being so close to a man again, of allowing him that...intimacy. Yet another part of me trusts that you are not like Alex, and that if I am to have any hope of a normal life, I need to give myself over to that sort of thing. Like you, I thought about you all bloody day."

  If Lewis was shocked by her language, he did not let on. Instead he moved closer to her, almost caging her against the wall of the box with his large body. "What are you saying, Sophia?" His tone was low and tinged with a hint of something dark, almost feral in nature. "I need to hear you say the words. For I cannot move forward without them."

  "I want you, Lewis Blackmore," she repeated again, more certain of herself this time. "Physically. I wish to lie with you as a man lies with a woman."

  "Sophia, no. It is too soon." Shaking his head, he took a step back. Desire was one thing, but physical intimacy quite another. "We cannot. It is not right."

  Sophia took a step forward to counter his retreat. "Last night, you changed something in me, Lewis. You awakened passions that I never thought I would feel again. Perhaps you did accomplish it simply because you were not trying to do so, or perhaps I am finally moving past what Alex did to me. But whatever the reason, those feelings and desires have flared to life once more and I wish to...bring them under control."

  This time, Lewis did not back away but rather took a step forward as he had done last night in the furniture-filled parlor. Only this time, he also reached out and took Sophia's hands in his. Once more, he cursed the gloves that kept his skin from hers but he did not dare remove them for fear that things could flare out of control rather quickly.

  "You know what you are asking, do you not? What if I were to get you with child?" In his mind, it would be a rare blessing, but he would also not be so callous as to saddle Sophia with his bastard. Provided he even agreed to her foolish plan in the first place. Or that he could even sire a child. Being with a woman was one thing, but he had no idea if the parts of him necessary to sire a child were even still functional. Besides, what was it with Reynolds women and their cockamamie plans?

  "I know." Sophia's eyes sparkled in the darkness. "And I know what I ask. I might not have enjoyed what Alex did to me, but I know the mechanics. I also will not lie and pretend that this was an easy decision for me. It was not. However I still feel as if this is something that I need to do. That I want to do. With you. And only with you."

  Lewis' conscience warred with itself until finally, he shook his head. "No. This is not right. I cannot do as you ask."

  Sophia made a noise of disgust. "I notice that you did not say that you did not wish to lie with me, Lewis. Only that it is not right."

  "Damn it, Sophia!" Lewis swore softly. "If I thought I would not cause you irreparable harm, I would lay you down upon this very floor and have my wicked way with you! I would fuck you until we were both exhausted and then I would rest and I would have you again! Everything about you tests me and has since the first moment I laid eyes upon you again!"

  "Lewis..."

  Before she could utter another word however, the entire theater building shook and someone screamed. Or multiples someones. Sophia could not be sure. Then she heard a crack and a sizzling sound that was unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

  "It is the storm," Lewis shouted at her as the cacophony of voices and screams grew louder outside their private little world. "The wind was beginning to pick up when I arrived and I felt the storm was not far off even then. I think it has finally hit and it will wallop us harder than I had anticipated. At least if that lightning is any indication of what is to follow." He grabbed Sophia's hand and yanked her back through the doorway. "Come on! We need to find Nick and Eliza."

  Silently, Sophia scurried after him, her heart pounding fiercely. She had never dealt well with storms as a child and little had changed since she became an adult. Had she been back at Reynolds House, Sophia likely would have simply hidden under the bedcovers until the storm passed. Now, here in Covent Garden, she had to rely upon Lewis to see them both safely home. For there was little doubt in her mind that at the first sign of danger, Nicholas would have whisked Eliza away from this place, knowing very well that Sophia had Lewis to take care of her. After all, Eliza was Nick's wife, and she was likely carrying the next Candlewood heir. His first duty was to his wife. Not Sophia.

  When the pair reached the lobby, they quickly discovered that chaos now reigned. Plaster had cracked and fallen away from the walls and the large crystal chandelier swung dangerously overhead. Ushers were running about with buckets of water and dousing candles as they fell to the marble floor to prevent a fire from starting. Doormen were directing ladies and gentleman out the front doors, all of which had been swung open to the howling night, as quickly as possible.

  "We need to get out of here," Lewis declared without preamble, his military training kicking in immediately.

  "I thought you would never ask," Sophia replied as she allowed herself to be dragged along and outside into the soaking, frigid rain. She was thankful she had not removed her pelisse when she had entered the theater with her brother. Otherwise, she would be chilled to the bone immediately.

  The storm that had been plaguing Lewis' joints all day, making them ache and throb, was going to be a bad one when it finally hit London. Lewis had known that for hours now, but since the wind had only really just begun when he arrived, he had hoped that the rain might hold off until later in the evening. However Mother Nature was not one to be beholden to the desires of Society and had unleashed her fury already.

  Now, driving, icy rain lashed at his face, and he pulled Sophia closer in a vain attempt to shield her from the worst of the weather with his big, bulky body. Not that there was truly much he could do. The frigid rain was falling so hard and so fast that they were both soaked to the skin within moments.

  With Sophia tucked closely to his side, Lewis ran down the sidewalks as fast as his leg allowed in search of his carriage. It was pure chaos all around him, with frightened carriage horses rearing back each time a new lightning bolt struck close to their position. The air smelled of acrid smoke, as if the storm and lightning had set something ablaze. He could hear the clanging of a bell in the distance and when he looked up, he saw a large crack that had formed in the theater's roof. This storm was unleashing hell upon London, and he needed to get Sophia inside before it claimed one or both of them as victims.

  Finally, after what seemed like hours of searching but was likely only a few minutes, Lewis located his carriage. He propelled Sophia inside, not even stopping to wonder why she was so quiet which was unlike her. His only thought was getting them out of the theater district and back to the relative safety of Mayfair. He bellowed instructions to his driver to set out for Reynolds House, but it was soon made clear that the roads were utterly clogged with traffic and that no one was going anywhere anytime soon.

  Decision made, Lewis leapt back out of the carriage and pulled Sophia with him. He shouted to Williams, his driver, to keep the horses safe and return home as soon as he could manage. Then, without stopping to think any more regarding what he was about to do, Lewis leaned down and scooped up Sophia in his arms, setting off at as brisk of a pace as his bad leg could manage across London and towards his home on Curzon Street, as it was closer than Grovesnor Square. At present, Lewis believed that getting Sophia safe and dry took precedence over returning her to her family. He shouted his intentions to Sophia as well, but he doubted that she heard him over the raging storm. If Sophia herself had any objections to being carried in his arms, she did not utter them and that froze Lewis' heart and soul more than any winter rain could. This night would not end well he feared - for either of them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She was being carried in Lewis' strong arms across the dark, disgusting streets of London. That was the only thought that Sophia
could process. The part of her that was pure Reynolds, the part that was typically strong and brash, had frozen the moment she heard the first crack of thunder back in the theater. It was as if she couldn't even think, let alone move. If not for Lewis, Sophia wasn't certain she would have made it out of the theater at all. She might have simply curled up in a ball and waited for someone to discover her. Oh, she wanted to believe otherwise of course, but she also knew that the odds of her being brave in the face of this sort of storm were minimal at best.

  Without any light from the streetlamps, for the wind and rain had extinguished them all, Sophia had no idea where they were going, except out of the theater district and most likely towards Mayfair. Soaked to the bone and shivering, she could hear people yelling and screaming all around her. She should be terrified, yet here in Lewis' arms, she felt safe.

  At one point she did mumble a weak protest about getting down and walking on he own. She knew she was not a lightweight sort of female, and that his leg could only tolerate so much pain. Given that it also probably hurt like the devil in bad weather, she was certain he must be in a great deal of pain. Yet he brushed aside her suggestion and instead hurried forward, though he was slowing down the longer they traveled.

  Finally, as they approached Mayfair, Lewis stopped long enough to put Sophia on the ground and rest, his breathing labored and his body beginning to tremble with the effort he had exerted. He was obviously exhausted, and she could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at her, unable to draw a breath so that he might speak. At that, her heart swelled and she reached out for him. He had brought her this far to safety. She could take him the rest of the way.

  Besides, it wasn't as if they could stay out here in the elements all night, unprotected as they were. In the middle of such a disaster, anything could befall them, including an attack from footpad. Though she did think that perhaps even the criminal element might take a night such as this off from their nefarious activities.

  Not to mention that she and Lewis were both soaked through to their very skin, their evening clothes likely ruined. So if they were not robbed and murdered, they would likely die from chill, which was not a very pleasant thought, either. Instead of becoming hysterical however, Sophia looked into herself and somehow found the strength to push forward, even as the terrifying storm raged around them. She wished more than anything to be home in bed, hiding, but she was not. And Lewis was hurting. In considerable pain. She had to be the strong one for the moment.

  "Tell me where to go," she all but commanded. "I have no idea where we are headed."

  "Towards 1564 Curzon Street. It is my home, for I doubt that we will make Grovesnor Square before the authorities arrive." Already, Sophia could hear the shouts of men she assumed were Runners, commanding people to stay in their homes until the storms passed. Even though they were dressed in evening clothes, and despite the fact that until a few days ago Lewis had worked for them, there was still a chance that they might be mistaken for vagrants. She did not wish to spend the night in the Runners offices waiting for details to be sorted out.

  Determined now, Sophia pushed forward leading Lewis, who was obviously in a great deal of pain and clearly paying dearly for carrying her as far as he had out of the theater district. Silently, Sophia berated herself. She was not some helpless female. Or at least she never had been before. A storm, no matter how bad, should not terrify her.

  This was yet another remnant of what Alex had done to her. Well, she would not stand for it! It was time for her to be the old Sophia again, even if only for the night. That Sophia would damn the elements and led them both to safety without hesitation. So the old Sophia she would become. There was something refreshing about that decision, though she had no real time to linger upon it, for the rain was increasing as the strength in Lewis was decreasing.

  So, slogging her skirts behind her, Sophia entwined Lewis' hand in hers and began to trudge forward, praying that she was heading in the correct direction.

  By the time they finally reached Lewis' front door, he was barely moving and it was only with the help of a man that Sophia assumed was his butler that she was able to get him up the front steps and into the entryway. Before she knew what she was about, Lewis was whisked away from her and up the stairs by several large, burly footmen, men almost as physically large as Lewis himself.

  Then another man appeared silently, as if by magic, and bowed to Sophia with great deference. It was obvious from a single glance that, like Lewis, this man had once been in the military as well. She was not surprised.

  "I am Crawford, my lady," the nearly silent butler intoned with a slight smile. "If you would be so good as to follow me, I can escort you to a chamber where you might freshen up after your ordeal. Being that this is a male household, I am afraid, however, that we do not have any female servants about, save for the cook and the housekeeper. Neither of whom live in, I am sorry to say."

  Pushing back the hood of her sopping wet cloak, Sophia offered the man a flat look. "On a night such as this, I think we can allow the proprieties to go hang, don't you, Crawford?"

  "Just so, my lady." It had taken a moment for Sophia's eyes to adjust to the dim light, but now that they had, she could see the other man smile softly at her again. He liked her. She could tell. And she felt no fear in that knowledge, just a gentle understanding "Just so."

  As Sophia followed Crawford through the house and towards what was obviously the family wing - if there was any family about that is - she could not help but ask for one more liberty that would likely not be allowed. "Lewis. I mean Lord Blackmore. Can I see him? Please?"

  "Shortly," Crawford replied as he stopped in front of a door and opened it for her. "It is likely not done in the best of households, but then, we are not the most proper lot, as I am sure you have already guessed. I will make certain someone comes to fetch you when he is settled."

  "Thank you," Sophia replied quietly. "He means a great deal to me."

  Once more, the butler gave her that peculiar, soft smile. "I gathered as much, my lady." He paused. "Pilkington, Lord Blackmore's valet, will be along shortly with some clothes for you. I am afraid that we do not have much that would fit a lady, but I am certain he will come up with something. He is rather talented with a needle and thread, however."

  "Thank you." She had no idea what else to say, really. So she said nothing more as Crawford bid her good night and closed the door behind her silently. Did the man ever make any sort of noise? She rather doubted it. It was as if he was a ghost.

  Sophia was about to turn away from the now-closed door just then when a sharp rap made her open it again. There, on the other side, loomed another large, hulking man, this one carrying some sort of fabric in his arms. Did Lewis not employ any servants of normal size, she wondered? If they were all old military men, then likely not, she supposed.

  "Please. Come in. You must be Pilkington. Crawford said to expect you." She moved back from the door and gestured for the man to come inside.

  Before her arrival in the room, a few candles had been lit and now as the also-silent valet moved farther into the room, Sophia could see that, like Lewis, this man's face was scared as well, only more so. He also walked with a limp and was missing part of his ear. Likely a military man, then, as she had first surmised. Were all of Lewis' servants former military men? It seemed likely and fitting for him.

  "I have found a gown for you, my lady." The man gave a half-bow as he turned to face her. It was likely all he could manage, especially if the injuries to his face were any indication of what the rest of his body looked like. "I fear that it will not fit as it is, but once you have it on, perhaps I can manage to do a little something. If you would just go behind the screen, please, I will see what I can do when you are ready."

  Now, Sophia was faced with yet another dilemma. In all of her life, she had never allowed a man to be in the same room with her while she undressed. She had also only just begun to conquer her general fear of men. On the other hand, she had all
but dragged Lewis through Mayfair in the face of a raging storm just a short while ago. Not to mention that she was soaked and freezing in a ruined gown. She had proven to be far stronger than she could have ever imagined, and truly, she knew in her heart that this man would not harm her. Lewis would not employ anyone who would. She could do this. She had to.

  "Thank you, Pilkington. I shall be right back." Praying that he attributed her trembling hands to the chill - which was partly true - Sophia made her way behind the dressing screen and slowly peeled away her damp, ruined clothing. Thankfully, the fire which had only just been lit when she first entered the room was now glowing brightly in the grate and sending off a good deal of warmth.

  When she finally managed to kick away the ruined pile of rose silk, along with her undergarments, she heard a soft shuffling coming from the other side of the screen. Then the bright green fabric that Pilkington had been clutching when he first entered the room appeared over the top of the dressing screen. Sophia all but snatched the garment from the man's hands and then watched in wonder as some sort of claw-like device pulled her wet clothes away from the floor in front of the dressing screen. She saw no hint of the valet at all, much to her amazement.

  Wiggling into the dress, she found that it was far too big for her, but determined to make the garment fit, she gathered up as much loose fabric as she could before she stepped out from behind the screen. She had been forced to forego all of her usual undergarments, but that could not be helped. They were wet and freezing and completely uncomfortable. She also did not think that anyone in this household would object to the impropriety either.

 

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