My Seductive Innocent

by Julie Johnstone

  Nathan never slept with married women or virginal ladies, but still he had managed to anger some gentlemen over the years who’d thought they held some claim to a certain widow or even a demirep. He could think of one particular widow who had tried to make her old lover jealous recently by flaunting her relations with Nathan in front of the man’s face. Perhaps it had worked too well.

  “The only thing getting worked out here is lust,” the tall man crowed. “If ye want the wench ta live send her down.”

  Nathan hesitated to let Sophia anywhere near those men, but if he didn’t do it, they’d likely both die on this road. He turned his head to her and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll die before letting them harm you.”

  “There’ll be no need for any more of your heroics,” she muttered. “I’ve a dagger.”

  “Sophia, don’t―”

  The towering man snatched her out of the seat before Nathan could finish his sentence. With a yelp, she went tumbling down the steps and slammed into the taller man. Nathan’s blood boiled as the man’s hands slid indecently over Sophia’s thin body and to her face. He was going to pummel that man first, and with extra glee.

  “Yer not much ta look at,” the man slurred at her.

  “The prettiest part of me is under this dress. Want to see?” Sophia cooed in the sweetest voice. Nathan’s blood froze in his veins. Was her dagger strapped to her thigh? Did she mean to try to reach it first or just distract the men so Nathan could do something?

  Sophia bent over in one fluid motion and never came up. A howl, the likes of which Nathan had never heard, filled the night. “My foot!’ the tall man yelled. “Bitch stabbed me in my foot.”

  In the confusion, Nathan reached down and swept his pistol box up, but before he could open it, a shot rang out. The bullet slammed into his left shoulder and sent him staggering backward onto the seat. The sting of the metal piercing his skin was nothing compared to the sharp, fiery pain that instantly radiated from the site of the wound to his fingers. His left arm went numb, and dark spots danced before his eyes. He blinked, tensed his body, and threw the heavy, wooden pistol case directly at the man who’d shot him.

  The wood box thumped the man on the head and he went down in a heap, howling and holding his skull. Nathan scanned the area in front of him. In a sliver of moonlight, Sophia’s petite form was illuminated as she struggled with the taller man. Nathan’s blood rushed through his veins as he scrambled to make his way down the stairs to help her, but he was losing blood fast and his feet were unsteady. His head became light and the ground beneath him tilted right, then left. Searing heat enveloped him as the nausea rose in his throat.

  He missed the first step of the ladder and tumbled to the ground. He landed face-first in the dirt. Beside him, a second shot rang out, and it took all the strength he could muster to turn his head to see who’d been hit. As he did, a body thudded to the ground very near him, and relief snagged in his chest as he stared at the wide, unblinking eyes of the man Sophia had stabbed in the foot. His mouth was parted in the last breath he’d ever taken.

  As Nathan struggled to push himself over, pain hit him in wave after burning wave, from his shoulder out to the rest of his body. Footsteps pounded across the dirt, and he managed to flip over with a guttural cry, in time to see Sophia’s concerned faced looming over him.

  Her gaze skimmed his body, then she looked over her shoulder. “The other devil ran off,” she said, facing him once more. “Coward! I’d chase after him―” she smiled grimly as she raised her dagger in one hand and the pistol that had to belong to the dead man in the other “―but you don’t appear...” Her words trailed off as her gaze locked on his shoulder.

  “You’re afraid I might die,” he managed to joke, though his vision was becoming increasingly darker.

  She bit her lip, and that was answer enough. “We better get you to the physician’s house. Can you stand?”

  Hell, he didn’t think he could breathe much longer but he managed to nod. Somehow, he’d find the strength to get up.

  For a petite lady, Sophia surprised him. With minimal staggering, she helped him rise and climb back into the curricle. By the time he fell onto the seat, he was sweating profusely. She grabbed his pistol box, and then she plunked down beside him and took up the reins. He rolled his head toward her, resting against the cushion, and looked at her with the one eye he still had the strength to open. “Have you ever driven a carriage?”

  She shook her head. “But don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. There is no way I’m letting you die on me.”

  “Of course not,” he mumbled. His mouth felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton. And his head, too, come to think of it. He stared up at the black night, wondering foggily if the stars had disappeared or if he had gone blind. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a ragged breath. “If I die, you cannot trap me into marriage,” he teased.

  “Oh, go on and pass out already, you conceited man,” she snapped.

  The carriage seemed suddenly to be swaying wildly. “Slow down,” he hissed, grabbing at the seat.

  “I’ve not even started yet,” she retorted and clucked her tongue.

  The curricle jolted forward and seemed to tilt downward, and then Sophia’s yelp joined the buzzing in Nathan’s ears as he blacked out.

  Sophia expected all hell to break loose when she returned to the Breeding Tavern with a bleeding, possibly dying duke in tow. After going to the physician’s and finding him gone, she’d had no other choice but to come back here. When she did arrive, Frank immediately started yelling at her and demanding to know where she’d been, just as she’d predicted. But she tugged him outside to get his help bringing Nathan into the tavern, anyway, and was shocked speechless when he stopped shouting as she explained who Nathan was. Frank rushed back into the Breeding Tavern and returned within seconds, barking orders at Moses to find the physician. Sophia’s heart swelled with the strangest sensation of hope. Maybe Frank was not rotten to the core, after all.

  “Frank―” He gave her a sharp look. “Father,” she corrected, clearing the lump out of her throat. “You won’t regret this.”

  “Oh, I know I won’t, my dear.”

  My dear? Frank had never used a term of endearment to refer to her in all the days of her life. He was certainly up to something, but she didn’t have time to figure out what right now. She clambered into the carriage and slipped her arms under Nathan’s legs. As Frank hauled himself into the curricle, as well, and grasped Nathan under the arms, Nathan’s eyes fluttered open and locked on her.

  “Physician,” he mumbled.

  Sophia nodded. “Dr. Porter is coming.” She started to straighten but Nathan grasped her hand. The unnatural clamminess of his skin made her heart stutter, but she tried not to show her fear.

  His brows furrowed, as if he was searching for what he wanted to say. “Funny. Not ready to die.”

  His voice, which had been so deep and confident only hours ago, came out hoarse and weak. Sophia blinked back threatening tears. She didn’t really know the man but sadness for him overwhelmed her. She squeezed his hand, even though his eyes were already closing, and said in a soothing voice, “Of course you aren’t ready to die, for heaven’s sake. You’re the Duke of Scarsdale. You have a grand, wonderful life, I’m quite sure.”

  She could have sworn his mouth thinned before his head flopped sideways and unconsciousness claimed him once again.

  She bit down hard on her lip to stifle a cry and struggled to help Frank get Nathan out of the carriage and into the tavern. At this hour, men packed the main room, and all eyes turned to them. She refused to care what they thought; they did not matter. Saving a man’s life was more important than her reputation.

  Anyway, she was going to London soon, and these men were likely already foxed. She’d be surprised if they recalled seeing her at all, unconscious man in her hands or not. For all they knew, this was one of Frank’s drinking cronies being hauled to the spare room to spend the night. />
  “Make way,” Frank shouted, snapping Sophia’s attention to him. “Move out of the way for the Duke of Scarsdale. He’s wounded and my daughter is taking special care of him,” Frank said, winking.

  Sophia nearly lost her grip on Nathan’s legs. Now she knew what Frank was up to, the fool.

  “Frank,” she hissed. “Your plan will not work!”

  Frank didn’t acknowledge her. Instead, he glanced around as they moved through the parted crowd and grinned as his eyes settled on Mr. Dalton who was leaning against the stairs and gaping at them. Sophia groaned. Mr. Dalton was married to the town’s biggest gossip. Frank’s scheming mind was turning rapidly if he’d thought far enough ahead to get him out here to witness whatever lies he intended to set up between her and Nathan.

  Frank paused right in front of the man. “Say, Dalton, could ye fetch yer wife to come help Sophia? I’m sure she could use an extra hand.”

  Sophia clenched her jaw and her fingers tightened around Nathan’s legs. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Mr. Dalton looked to Frank, who gave her a glacial look that made her shiver.

  “It’s necessary because I say it is. Understand, girl?” He fairly snarled the last word.

  She refused to agree. Instead, she eyed Dalton to see if it would do any good to plead with him, but he ignored her and ran off to get his wife.

  Frank bid a patron to help him carry Nathan up the stairs, and Sophia scrambled away to fetch hot water, clean rags, and brandy. She’d do what she could for Nathan before the physician arrived. By the time she reached the top of the stairs with her arms full of supplies and water sloshing over the sides of the bucket, she was panting and her heart was racing. She ran to the guest room and flew through the door, almost tripping over something on the floor. Glancing down, she grimaced at the sight of her bedroll shoved off to the side, but not far enough to prevent it being in the way of whoever entered the room.

  Sophia frowned as she hooked the tip of her shoe under the bedroll and cleared it away from the door. She strode into the room, set the bucket down, and then moved to Nathan’s side. He took up the full length of the bed with his long, lean frame. His skin glistened with sweat, and his eyes raced back and forth under his lids.

  Without acknowledging Frank, she said, “I know what you’re up to. I’ll not go along with it.”

  Frank yanked her around to face him. “You’ll participate, girl, or I’ll sell that brother ye hold so dear to the chimney master today instead of generously waiting until he’s nine. Understand?”

  Her gut twisted, and behind her, Nathan moaned. Fear for both Nathan’s and her brother’s lives danced down her spine. She heaved her arm loose and turned toward Nathan, whose eyes were fluttering open once again. Sinking down next to him, she locked her gaze with his wavering one. “Don’t worry. I know what to do.”

  Frank loomed over her. “How do ye know what to do? Yer a stupid girl.”

  She was smart enough not to tell Frank she’d been secretly reading books, some of them about medicine. She shrugged and twisted to answer Frank, in the hopes that Nathan would not overhear and become worried. “I’m simply soothing him,” she said in a low voice and then faced Nathan again.

  His forehead wrinkled and he looked around, as if he was trying to place her and the room, and then his eyes slowly focused on her once again. He licked his cracked lips, spurring her to reach for the liquor and pour him a glass. She slid one hand under his head, her fingers brushing through his thick curls to hold him while she gently lifted his head and pressed the cup to his lips. “Drink,” she urged.

  He took a long, slow sip and moved back slightly, letting her know to withdraw the cup. As she did, his lips lifted in a half-smile. “Trying to get me foxed to take advantage of me?”

  Goodness, the man had audacity. Even wounded he was still worried she was trying to trap him into marriage. Speaking of...

  She could feel Frank hovering, and she wished he would either go sit in the corner or actually help. “No, but I need to undress you,” she said to Nathan.

  “I’ve heard that before.” His tone was an odd mixture of humor laced with pain.

  The mental picture she got of him naked made her cheeks flame.

  Behind her, Frank coughed. “I’ll just go fetch some water.”

  “I already have water,” Sophia muttered through clenched teeth.

  Frank locked his fingers around the bones of her shoulder. She bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain.

  “I’ll get more,” Frank said. “Ye may need it.”

  She didn’t bother responding. Frank was going to do what he wanted no matter what she said.

  Once he was gone, she peered at Nathan again. “I’m just going to take off your coat, shirt, and cravat, all right?”

  Laughter danced in his rapidly dulling eyes and pain twisted his lips. “That sounds rather boring.”

  She shoved her embarrassment―and, truth be told, a little bit of curiosity—away. Leaning over him, she slid her arms under his back to get a good grip. When her chest brushed his, she gasped.

  He half chuckled, half moaned. “This has to be the strangest seduction I’ve ever been subjected to.”

  “I am not trying to seduce you,” she spat and yanked him upward. The low hiss that escaped him made her loosen her hold. “Push away from the bed with your good arm.”

  He pressed with a loud grunt as she tugged with an equally loud one. They careened backward and tilted precariously to the left, but somehow, by the grace of God, did not fall over. They ended up sitting face-to-face on the bed, just as she’d intended. Nathan was no namby-pamby duke. He was solid and very heavy. Thick, corded muscle covered his back and rose under her fingertips as she grasped his arms to hold him in place.

  “So it begins,” he teased in barely a whisper. His head came to rest on her shoulder and his warm exhalation tickled her neck. Her stomach fluttered as they sat there, pressed so close that you couldn’t slide a piece of foolscap between them.

  Her heart thudded and the veins in her neck pulsed with each beat. Using the utmost care, she struggled to draw off his coat. The one grunt he made told her it hurt, but other than that, he was silent. Despite the cold room, perspiration trickled down her brow from her effort to hold him up, though that exertion was nothing compared to trying to get his shirt off at the same time.

  She spent several minutes attempting to tilt him one way and then the next, but it was futile. Once she got him into a position she thought might do, she realized she needed to untuck his shirt first. She let out a string of Frank’s favorite expletives, which elicited a low chuckle from Nathan.

  “My ears are burning,” he chided.

  She snorted. “Somehow I doubt that.” Trying to avert her eyes, so as not to see too much, she reached into Nathan’s breeches at the tip of the waist and tugged at the fine material of his shirt.

  With bashfulness burning her cheeks, she withdrew her hand from his breeches and let out a yelp when his warm hand came to rest over hers.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t fret yourself. It’s not often a lady gets to stick her hands down a duke’s pants.” Heaven above! Had she really just said that? She wasn’t sure where the thoughts had come from. Clearing her throat, she added, “Almost done.” With care, she quickly removed his cravat, then glanced at his shirt. The slit near his collarbone exposed the top of his glistening chest. A knot formed in her throat. This was certainly not the way she had expected to see a man’s naked chest for the first time in her life, but so be it. “Can you raise your arms?”

  “The one that doesn’t have a gaping hole in it,” he grumbled.

  “Right, then.” She gently laid him back down, reached into her boot where she’d sheathed her dagger, and came up to kneel over him. “I bet you would have never thought to see a lady leaning over you with a dagger in her hands,” she joked, trying to relieve some of the tension. Now that Nathan’s coat was off and his blood-soaked shir
t was visible, her stomach roiled with queasiness and worry.

  “You’re quite surprising,” he managed.

  Sliding her dagger from the top of his shirt to the bottom, the material parted to expose his muscular chest marred only by the blood covering his left shoulder. Her nostrils flared, and she inhaled a long, steady breath. Even wounded, she could see why a woman might lose her head over him. He was perfection, at least physically.

  Dismissing the thoughts, she reached down and grasped the brandy, then leaned closer to him. “I’m going to cleanse the wound. Are you ready?”

  “Hell no,” he muttered. “But do it anyway.”

  Underneath her thighs, the muscle of his legs tensed. Best to be quick. Without giving him warning, she tilted the bottle and poured. The amber liquor mingled with blood and ran down his arm onto the bedsheets. As she stared at the mess, she shook her head. It had been silly not to put a towel under him. She glanced at his pale face and clenched jaw, and nibbled on her lip. It was true she had read some medical books, but she was no expert. “Maybe I should do it again?” she questioned herself.

  “Not unless you’re trying to kill me,” he gritted, surprising her with his response.

  “Not quite yet. Not until we’re properly married and I’m sure I’ll get some of your vast fortune,” she jested, hoping to turn his thoughts away from the obvious pain. He gripped the sheets in his fists, his dark eyes taking on an alarming, glazed look.

  “Funny,” he said, but the word was spoken as if with great effort.

  Sophia turned toward the door. Where in heaven were the physician and Frank? Blast the devil. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she faced Nathan. “I’m going to get a rag to stop the flow of blood.”

  His eyes peeled opened, but only to slits. “You’re leaving?”

  “No.” She pressed a hand to his forehead and sucked in a sharp breath at the burning skin that met her touch.

  He nodded, closing his eyes once more. Sophia scrambled off the bed, retrieved the rag, and then rushed back to Nathan and gently pressed it over the wound. As she did, the sound of footsteps reached her, followed by several voices all talking at once.