“I could get her now,” Annie offered.
“No, you will keep an eye on Sophie now. Remember, Annie, do as I say and things will go well for you. If you choose to do something foolish, however…”
“Yes, Madame. I understand.”
“Good. I always knew you were a smart girl, Annie.”
“Thank you, Madame.”
Annie sounded as if her heart were broken. Madame’s footsteps went toward the door, and Sophie could hear it open. She did not stir even though her neck was at an odd angle and was beginning to ache dreadfully. She waited what felt like an eternity before finally she heard Madame march out into the corridor. The door shut behind her and all was silent. Annie let out a halting breath.
Sophie waited just a few moments to make sure Madame would not come back, and then she sighed, too, stretching her arms and moving her head to get the kink out of her neck. Oh, but what a mess they were in! Madame was waiting for Papa to somehow pay a ransom? Surely that would never happen. She had no idea where Madame and Annie got any notion Papa had money, but she was quite certain they were mistaken. No ransom would come to rescue them.
“I didn’t know Madame was planning to invite someone here, Sophie.”
“I can’t imagine who it would be.”
“I can,” Annie said. Sophie did not miss the dread in her friend’s voice. “That man who used to ask after you all the time.”
“Who on earth was that?”
She wished it had been Lindley. Judging from Annie’s tone, however, she knew it was nothing like that. Lindley had only been interested in her because she was her father’s daughter. Whoever this man was, he obviously had other things on his mind. Good heavens, but what on earth would she do if Madame’s friend showed up and expected, er, these other things? Her flesh crawled at the very thought.
“His name is Warren,” Annie said. “I believe Madame calls him Captain. He works for the government in some capacity, but none of the girls like him. He has certain preferences…”
Annie didn’t finish that statement. She didn’t have to. It was common knowledge that Madame prided herself in accommodating certain preferences. She paid Sophie good money to create articles to facilitate some of these. Usually these special clients were harmless, although she’d heard whispers of some who weren’t. What on earth did Madame have in mind for her?
“I don’t know what to do, Sophie,” Annie went on. “Perhaps it would be better for you if you did take the laudanum.”
“No! Heavens, Annie, I will not simply lie down and give up. There must be some way out of this.”
“But how?”
How indeed? Sophie’s mind raced, desperate to think of something they could do. But what resources did they have? They were two women and a baby. How were they to slip away undetected in the middle of the night? Madame had her sources; she would find them in a heartbeat. And she’d be furious!
Oh, if only Sophie could believe Lindley were somewhere out there thinking of her, wondering about her. But of course she could not even know if he was still alive. She prayed that he was, but even then she knew he would be no help to them. That little purse full of coins told her she had fulfilled her purpose for him. Lindley—if he did survive Madame’s schemes—was through with her.
She needed to think of Annie, of little Rosie. She needed to find their way out of this. She needed a plan, she needed courage, and she needed to believe Lindley was safe, out there somewhere thinking fondly of her. Indeed, there were a great many things she needed right now.
Apparently, what she needed most was a miracle.
There was a knock at the door and both women jumped. Sophie quickly fell back into her pillow, adjusting her covers approximately as they had been minutes ago. This time she kept her head turned so that she could crack her eyes open just slightly to see who might be here to make life yet more complicated for them.
Annie took a deep breath and went to open the door. It was Mrs. Wimpole with Rosie.
“Miss Eudora sent for me to bring her to you,” she said, cradling the fussy baby and glancing in Sophie’s direction.
“Thank you,” Annie said, smiling as she took the child. “I’m sure this is all we’ll need tonight. Madame said I am to sleep in here to keep an eye on Miss Darshaw.”
“Oh? And why exactly does Miss D’Archaud need so much attention?” Mrs. Wimpole asked. “It isn’t normal for a healthy young woman to sleep so much. Should I call for a doctor?”
“No!” Annie said quickly, doing her best to settle Rosie, who very obviously did not care for all this conversation and would much prefer a meal. “She’s fine. Really, you may go to your bed now.”
But Mrs. Wimpole didn’t leave. “His lordship was quite worried for Miss D’Archaud. I’m not at all convinced he would be pleased to find that you and Miss Eudora have got her in that bed there like a prisoner. Now step aside and let me look in on her myself.”
“No, it truly is not necessary…” Annie said but cut herself off before Rosie’s crying could get out of hand.
It would not do at all to alert Madame to this confrontation. Sophie half expected to find the woman charging into her chamber at any moment. Mrs. Wimpole did not back down. Her feet shuffled just slightly as she moved toward the bed and laid her hand on Sophie’s forehead. Sophie pinched her eyes shut tight.
“See? She is perfectly well,” Annie said.
“Then why does she not rouse herself with all the commotion your child is making?” the housekeeper inquired. “I’m no fool, miss. I know what sort of person Miss Eudora has become, and I have my suspicions about you. I can see that you are up to no good where Miss D’Archaud is concerned, and I know his lordship wouldn’t stand for it. I’ve got half a mind to call for the magistrate.”
Oh, wouldn’t Madame just love that? The magistrate would probably throw them all out into the dark. Madame would be furious, then little Rosie truly would be at her mercy, and it seemed mercy was a trait Madame was sadly lacking. No, Sophie certainly could not let the woman call for the magistrate.
“Please do not send for the magistrate,” she said, pushing the covers aside and sitting up.
Annie made her familiar squeaking sound, but Mrs. Wimpole jammed her fists into her hips and glared at Sophie in the flickering candlelight.
“So you’re not asleep,” she said.
“No, but Madame must believe I am,” Sophie announced. “Please, Mrs. Wimpole. We need your help.”
The woman eyed her, raising one brow and waiting for an explanation. Sophie cleared her throat before giving her one.
“Madame Eudora plans to murder Lord Lindley.”
She thought the servant would deny any such possibility—it sounded absurd even as Sophie said it. But the woman did not. She merely kept her stern gaze directly on Sophie and waited.
“Go on,” she said.
“Madame wants Lindley dead so she can take something he has,” Sophie explained as quickly as she could. “And she is holding us here for ransom from my father. Annie is…er, my stepmother.”
Well, that sounded even more absurd. What could it mean about her life when the truth had become far more unbelievable than a lie? So far, though, Mrs. Wimpole was still listening. Apparently she wasn’t quite ready to discount Sophie’s claims and toss them out into the night.
“What can I do to help you?” she asked finally.
By God, those were wonderful words. Sophie breathed in relief and smiled.
“Thank you, Mrs. Wimpole,” she said. “First, could you tell me, what exactly do you keep in that rather formidable tower I saw as we arrived?”
LINDLEY PULLED SOPHIE CLOSE, HOLDING HER WARM body and enjoying the feel of her skin against his. She moaned and was agreeable to his advances, snuggling against him and sighing with pleasure. He wanted to bury himself in her, to hear her breathing his name in ecstasy, and then keep her here with him like this forever. He knew all he had to do was speak the words.
Yet it was as if
his voice would not come. No air could enter his lungs. The more he tried to speak, to cry out his love and his intentions for her, the tighter his lungs became. Sophie began to slip away.
His fingertips dug into the bedding for her, but he just couldn’t reach her. She was simply gone, suddenly and painfully. He tried to call her back but still he was mute as death.
And then he woke up. He’d been dreaming, hadn’t he? Yet it was a dream too close to real life. He was alone and Sophie was gone.
Damn, but he had not meant to sleep so hard. He’d taken this room over the shabby public house in Lack Wooton simply to rest and refresh himself. He’d not meant to spend the night dreaming of things that could never be. What had he missed as he slumbered? Anything might have happened.
D’Archaud might have joined the actors at Loveland by now, and Sophie may have left Haven Abbey. Tom may have never found his way back, and Lindley might very well be completely on his own today, with thugs out looking to kill him and Fitzgelder’s plan playing out at Hartwood.
By God, he’d had no business sleeping. A cold, hard dread settled in Lindley’s stomach. Something was wrong; he just knew it.
Worse, he knew it involved Sophie. He had to get to her. He’d have to give up on everything else. Sophie was all that mattered now. There was no time to waste. Lindley dressed and called for his carriage as quickly possible.
He was just climbing into the carriage when Tom appeared. Lindley was glad to see the young man still among the living, and even more glad to see him alone. There was no sign of the thug he’d been with yesterday or any other of Fitzgelder’s unsavories.
“Milord!” Tom called out, waving as if there might be any chance Lindley did not see him across the yard. “I have news. From Haven Abbey.”
That cold dread turned into ice. “What is it? What has happened? Is Miss Darshaw well?”
“She’s gone, milord!”
“What? Gone where? What have you learned?”
“I went to my father, to see if he had encountered trouble,” Tom said, his winded horse dancing beneath him. “As I was with him, though, a rider left the abbey in the night.”
“What rider? Who was it?”
“I followed him to learn that very thing. Turns out he’s one of Eudora’s boys.”
“Eudora? Why should she have anyone at Haven Abbey?”
“Because she’s there herself, milord.”
Lindley could scarcely believe it as Tom explained what he’d learned. Eudora had arrived at the abbey yesterday, shortly after his departure. From what the rider said when Tom caught and questioned him—and Lindley had no doubt Tom and his father did a thorough job of that—Eudora had known Sophie would be there and she’d gone to get the locket. She was planning to hold Sophie until D’Archaud collected his treasure and would ransom the girl rather than see her put to work in the brothel.
He half believed Eudora would do such a thing, too. Surely his loyalty to her should have prevented such thoughts, but for some reason it did not. He could not help but fear Sophie was in very real danger, indeed.
“But there’s more,” Tom added.
“What more? Spill it.”
“Well, it seems Miss Darshaw has taken off.”
“She’s left the abbey? Damn. Where would she go?”
“I don’t know. She was there one minute, and the next thing Madame knows she’s gone somehow. Eudora’s angrier than you can imagine—worried she won’t get that ransom now.”
“She’s a fool. D’Archaud hasn’t cared much what happened to his daughter over the last four years; why should she expect he’d suddenly be willing to pay ransom for her? Damn! What is the girl thinking, running out in the middle of the night?”
“The man said Madame seemed to think she was off to find you.”
“Me?” He was remarkably flattered at the idea of it. Could Sophie really have run away, hoping to find him?
“To warn you, sir. Apparently, the girl is under the impression yer own dear Eudora is planning to kill you.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
Well, Lindley found he had no answer to that. Hellfire, this whole thing was spinning rapidly out of control. What the devil was Sophie up to? And an even better question, what the devil was Eudora up to? He’d strangle the woman if he found any of her threats against Sophie were true.
Obviously, though, Sophie felt they were sincere. She felt that enough to go running out into the night. To rescue him.
God, but he did love that woman. Now, however, he simply needed to find her and pray it was not too late to tell her. But where would she go? He’d certainly not left word telling anyone where to find him. How could she possibly have thought to know where to look?
Ah, but she knew he was after her father. She would simply go where he expected her father to go. And that would be Loveland.
And the temporary residents of Loveland were scheduled to visit Hartwood today. With Fitzgelder. Damn, if Sophie joined up with them she could be walking directly into the very last place she would wish to be.
“Very well then, Tom,” Lindley said, pulling on his gloves and taking up the reins. “I’ll find her. You go back to your father. Tell him he’s needed—he’s to look for me first at Hartwood and then at Loveland.”
“And me, sir?”
“Get some rest. Stay near the abbey and let me know if Eudora makes any move.”
THE DOOR AT THE BOTTOM OF THE ANCIENT, WINDING stairway creaked. It echoed against the damp stone walls. Sophie glanced nervously at Annie. The sun had risen nearly two hours ago, yet they’d heard nothing from below, from the rest of the house. It was as if this tower room were a hundred miles away from Haven Abbey rather than attached and looming over it.
After endless footsteps had sounded on the stairs, a light knock came at the door. It was the agreed upon signal—two sets of two short raps. Sophie breathed easier. Mrs. Wimpole was bringing their breakfast.
She hoped.
The door to their little room moaned as Sophie swung it open. Mrs. Wimpole was there, huffing from her march up the stairs. She held a tray with breakfast.
“Perhaps we should arrange for you to give the signal knock at the door below, Mrs. Wimpole,” Sophie suggested, taking the tray and ushering the servant in.
“Safer this way. You keep this door bolted tight, my dear. Miss Eudora has been in a rare fit since you turned up missing in the night. Don’t open this up for nobody.”
“But surely if Madame sends someone up here to look for us they’ll realize someone has bolted it from inside,” Annie said, nervously repositioning Sophie’s pin rolls where she had them set out on a rugged little table.
“If anyone asks I’ll tell them this room hasn’t been used in years, that the hinges are all rusted up and can’t be opened,” Mrs. Wimpole said.
Sophie frowned. “Will that be enough, do you think, to keep anyone from hunting up here?”
The older woman smiled. “She’s convinced you went off after Lord Lindley, and I gave her plenty of reason to believe it, miss. I told her you were inconsolable yesterday morning when he left. I told her just what you told me to say, that you knew where he was going and you wanted to go after him. She’s well certain that’s what you’ve done, although…”
“Yes?”
“I’m afraid she’s every bit as certain that you won’t be finding him, miss. It seems she fully believes his lordship has already met with some…mishap.”
“How does she know? Has someone come to bring word?”
Sophie could feel the blood pounding in her head. Oh, but she simply couldn’t let herself think of this, of the possibility that Lindley was…No, it just couldn’t be. He had to be well, out there somewhere searching for her father.
“No, no one has arrived, but Miss Eudora sent one of her servants out last night.”
Sophie frowned. Annie had told her they traveled with Madame’s driver and one young man who seemed to be quite devoted
to Madame, fetching and delivering messages for her and whatnot. So just what message could Madame be sending, she wondered.
“When she discovered you gone, she called her young man and sent him off,” Mrs. Wimpole explained. “I don’t know where.”
Sophie glanced at Annie, but it seemed she had no idea where the man might have been going. She shrugged. “To warn Captain Warren, perhaps?”
It was as good a guess as any Sophie could think of. “Yes, that could be.”
But Mrs. Wimpole seemed especially perplexed. “Captain Warren? You know of him?”
“Yes, he’s a, er, friend of Madame’s,” Sophie said, modifying the details just a bit.
“Oh, he’s far more than that,” Mrs. Wimpole said. “He’s her son.”
“Her son?”
“You did not know that?”
“No, Madame never mentioned she had a son.”
Mrs. Wimpole shook her head and sighed. “She was so young when it happened, the poor dear. Seduced by an older man, she was. She ran off with him before she was even out of the schoolroom, and then he cast her aside before she’d birthed his by-blow. Her family was forced to turn their backs on her shame.”
“Her own family refused to help her?”
“You can be sure it was not what anyone wished for. Miss Eudora did not make things easy for them, sorry to say. Oh, but it broke her mother’s heart.”
Somehow Sophie had never thought of Madame having a mother, or any family, for that matter. The very thought had never entered her mind. It was as if Madame had always simply been who she was when Sophie came to know her—a fading beauty making profit off the weakness of men.
Now a whole new person was being presented to her. She was suddenly becoming aware of the woman under Madame’s charming façade: a woman who had loved and had suffered abandonment, had done the unthinkable in order to care for her fatherless child, had made her own way and watched her family turn their backs on her. It was no wonder she was cold and deceitful underneath it all.
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