Hearts of Trust

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Hearts of Trust Page 11

by Ellie St. Clair


  “These gentlemen do not seem to have a great deal of pressing matters to attend to,” came the reply. “I do not know how long they will be with us. Usually, it is until they get somewhat bored or are required by their family to return home.”

  That did not bring much hope to Sophie’s heart. “Then I shall have to endure in whatever way I can,” she murmured, sinking into despair. “For I currently have nowhere else to go.”

  Mrs. Martins cleared her throat and put one hand on Sophie’s arm. “Or you could continue with what you had always intended and tell him the truth,” she reminded her, gently. “Take your rightful place as a lady of noble birth, and ask him to protect you. He will not refuse you, I am quite sure.”

  “But my cousin is his friend!” Sophie exclaimed, feeling more desperate than ever. “He might listen to me but then discuss it with Malcolm. My cousin is more than able to convince him of his innocence and declare me quite mad which, given that I am dressed and working as a servant, might not seem such a far-flung idea. Malcolm is quite good at keeping up appearances. Even I did not see his true character for some time.” She put her head in her hands, pressing the tears back from her eyes. “I do not know what to do,” she finished, her voice by this time a breathy whisper.

  There was a short silence, broken only by the sound of Mrs. Potts clattering about at the stove.

  “Perhaps you need a little more faith in the master,” Mrs. Martins said, eventually. “I have seen more of his good character these last few days than ever before. It may be something of a risk to speak to him so plainly, but he may come through for you. Think about it, Sophie.”

  Sophie sighed, not feeling even the slightest flicker of hope. “I will consider it,” she promised, her angst not lessening in the least. “Thank you, Mrs. Martins.”

  17

  For the next two days, Sophie continued as best she could, even though her nerves were so fraught that she could hardly do the equations she had once found so simple. To her very great relief, she did not see Lord Harrington, nor Lord Haversham, and certainly not her cousin. At times, when she had been walking to the study, she had heard them talking and laughing together and she had practically flown down the corridor to avoid them.

  Constantly, she was on her guard, fretting that she would be found at any moment. There was no opportunity for her to speak to Lord Harrington, although she was glad to hear, at least, that he was continuing to oversee the improvements to his tenant's homes. He had not allowed his friends’ presence to push him from his tasks, even though he worked late and she early. In a way, Sophie felt quite proud of him for sticking to his intentions, even though his friends certainly would be tempting him to do otherwise.

  She also realized, with a sigh, that she missed him. She missed his teasing words, his wide smile, the spicy masculine smell of him working closely beside her, and the optimism he exuded about the world in general, with the exception of his own character.

  She let herself into the study, seating herself at the desk where she had become quite comfortable over the past week. She had always been studious, and she enjoyed putting her intellect to good use, to helping with matters of some importance.

  She jumped when the door clicked open, and she whirled around to see who had entered, sighing when she saw it was Lord Harrington. She gave him a small smile as he made his way over to her.

  “Busy working?” he asked, coming to stand beside her, his fingertips resting lightly on her shoulder, causing all of her senses to all leap to awareness.

  “I am,” she said, forcing herself to concentrate on his words. “I enjoy the work, to be honest. Thank you for all you have done for me.”

  He looked at her quizzically, his brows drawing together. “What do you mean?”

  “For taking me in, and for allowing me to do this type of work,” she said, before taking a deep breath. Now was the time to tell him to truth, to lay bare the who she was, the past, and the reason she was here.

  “Lord --”

  “Come,” he interrupted, pulling her to her feet. “I must apologize for my lack of attentions and presence the past few days. With my friends’ visit, I have been remiss.”

  “Not at all, my lord,” she said, flustered at the close proximity of his hard chest at her nose. “There is nothing to apologize for. In fact, I should like to --”

  He cut off her protests with a searing kiss, sending jolts of heat through her body as his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue stroking hers in a love play that made her weak. She melted into him, revelling in the warmth of his hard body. She didn’t want to give this up -- give him up. He nibbled at her lip as he released her, before beginning to trail kisses down her neck.

  “I’m happy to provide some distraction,” he murmured, making her flush with delight. “I believe it’s my turn to teach you something. I am sure, with practice, you shall become as proficient as you are at your books.”

  Sophie let her fingers pull him towards her as she rested her forehead against his. “I am quite happy to continue with the accounts, Lord Harrington, I assure you. Besides, there is a matter I wanted to discuss with you.” She let her hands drop and carefully sat back down, seeing the slight frustration in his eyes.

  “Ah, regarding the issue with the accounts,” he said, shaking his head at her with a smile. “You are quite determined.”

  “Yes,” Sophie said hesitatingly. “There is that.”

  His grin softened. “Do you think it ridiculous that I cannot do this myself -- that I find such a simple thing so difficult?”

  Sophie placed her hand on his, looking up at him earnestly. “No, not in the least.”

  Benjamin seemed to relax before her very eyes. “You are too good for me, Sarah.” He held her gaze for a moment before clearing his throat. “Now, what do you say to a stroll in the garden?” He held up his hand when she began to protest. While her cousin was not likely to enter the study, there was a much greater chance she could encounter him in the garden. “I have a lovely little arbor where we might sit for awhile and discuss all you would like to tell me.”

  The smile on his face was so endearing that Sophie knew she could not refuse without providing him proper explanation.

  “Do you not think the rest of the household will find it strange for you to enter the arbor with a maid?” she asked.

  “We shall be discreet,” he said, which dampened her fears of running into Lord Dunstable. “Come, I know a way through the back of the gardens where no one will notice us.”

  “All right,” she finally agreed, getting to her feet. “It sounds lovely, then.”

  “The French doors in the ballroom lead into a very pretty little patch and I am quite sure you will enjoy it.”

  “I should enjoy anytime in your company, Lord Harrington,” Sophie murmured, as they walked to the door. “As much as I know I should not.”

  His eyes looked contemplative as he took in her words. “Do not concern yourself with that. Enjoy yourself for a few moments.”

  Sophie felt a sense of peace as she leaned against the small wooden bench in the garden, taking in all the sights and sounds that surrounded her. While it could use more greenery, there were beautiful flowers, wonderful scents and birds of all kinds singing all around. It was like a little piece of heaven, made better by the proximity of the man with her.

  Lord Harrington didn’t sit next to her, but rather paced in front of her, seemingly unaffected by the gardens around him.

  “Lord Harrington,” Sophie began.

  “Benjamin.”

  She looked up at him. “Pardon me?”

  “I feel as though you should call me Benjamin. Lord Harrington sounds too formal coming from your lips.”

  She inclined her head. “Very well. Benjamin.”

  “Sarah,” he stopped his pacing as he turned to face her, calling to her before she could begin. “I know you wanted to speak with me about the accounts, but for the moment I cannot truly concentrate on them. I must say something to
you first.”

  She hoped he wasn’t apologizing again. She didn’t think she could take that anymore.

  “I’ve told you that I am not a good man,” he said, holding up a hand as she made to tell him otherwise. “Or if I am, as you seem to believe, then I have certainly done things contrary to that opinion. My father sent me here to this estate to learn responsibility, and also to take me far from London. My eyes were opened to the error of my ways before I left, but old habits are difficult to break. When I first saw you, I must admit that I instantly desired you -- I hope that does not shock you. But I vowed to myself and to my father that I would not touch any of the staff.

  “Then I came to know you. You, Sarah, are so good, so kind, so trustworthy. When I am around you,I want to be a better man. I do not care so much for the activities and the people I once seemed to hold so dear. I know what you will say. That you are a maid, not good enough for me. However it is quite the opposite. It is you that are too good for me. You see the very best in others, you are patient, you are understanding. And yet when I consider the time we have spent together I realize I have been as selfish as I always am. I have told you everything about me, but have asked nothing of you. I know only that your parents have passed and you have no siblings, but nothing further.”

  He walked to her, taking her hands in his.

  “I want to know more, Sarah,” he tilted her head up towards him.

  She didn’t want to ruin this moment, but what could she tell him? She turned to him, and looked up into his eyes, which burned with desire as he trailed a finger down her neck to her collarbone. “You’re intelligent, I know that. But what else is there to you? What do you enjoy? What were you like as a child? What do you want of your life?”

  She blinked. These were certainly not questions to ask a maid, but then, whatever was to become of them, they were far past the typical relationship between a maid and the lord of a manor.

  “To answer your questions,” she said slowly, “I enjoy reading. I love to lose myself in the stories of others. My -- at one of my postings I was able to read from the massive library and it brought me much joy.”

  “My library is open to you, I hope you know that.”

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “Benjamin.”

  “Thank you Benjamin. As a child, I was fairly quiet. I didn’t get into much trouble, but I did love to hide myself away in pantries or a cabinets, and stay there for hours. My parents would look for me everywhere, and would finally find me engrossed in a novel.”

  She smiled in remembrance.

  “And what do you want?”

  She looked down at her hands. She had never truly thought much beyond escaping Malcolm.

  “I suppose…” she started slowly, “I want a life of freedom, of purpose, of happiness. I want companionship. And love, if it’s possible.”

  He nodded slowly, his gaze locking on hers.

  “Benjamin --”

  “Harrington!”

  The voice, all too familiar and inciting of her nightmares, cut through the gardens. “Harrington, where have you buggered off to?”

  “My apologies,” Lord Harrington said remorsefully to Sophie. “It seems Lord Dunstable is looking for me. I shall be but one moment.”

  He rose to greet his friend, slipping out of the arbor. Sophie, however, was taking no chances. The moment he was out of sight, she slipped out the other side and back to the relative safety of the house.

  18

  Once she had properly composed herself from the near meeting with Malcolm in the garden, Sophie spent the remainder of the day working in the study. Some hours later, she sat up, flexing her fingers, cramped from scribbling away at the accounts. She had taken a quick break for dinner and had then returned to the study to finish off writing her list of the remaining mistakes she had found in the ledger.

  Glancing up at the clock, Sophie realized with a shock that it was much later than she had thought. Given that she was falling so far behind due to her nerves, Sophie had wanted to finish her task regardless of the time, knowing that Lords Harrington, Haversham, and Dunstable had all gone out for the evening.

  However, it was now close to midnight. Sophie should have already been abed since she would have to wake up early to help with the morning duties. Closing the ledger and promising herself she would finish the task in the morning, she made for the door – only for it to open.

  “I’m sure he keeps some brandy in here,” she heard someone mutter and, with a gasp of fright, Sophie stepped back into the shadows. She pressed her hand to her mouth as her cousin stepped inside, swaying just a little. While Sophie had no wish to ever be in his presence, it was much worse when he was clearly deep in his cups, as he currently was. Fear clutched at her heart as she realized that he stood between her and the door. There was no way for her to escape. The night in the library of his home came rushing back to her, as did the fear she felt when he had chased her through the halls. She would have to just hide herself away and hope that he would leave once he had found the brandy.

  Unfortunately, in her haste to hide in the dark corner of the room, she managed to trip over a footstool and went crashing to the ground with it.

  “What the devil –- ?”

  Sophie scrambled away, her ankle beginning to throb painfully. She tried to hide as best she could, but her cousin was already coming in search of her, his eyes piercing the darkness.

  She screamed aloud as he reached forward and grabbed at her, his hands scrabbling in the darkness. “No, no!” she cried out, her heart beating so fast she thought she might be sick. “Leave me alone!”

  “A pretty little maid, is it?” Lord Dunstable chuckled, using his strength to pull her against him, staggering back a little. “Come here, my sweet. I have been long missing the company of a warm body in my bed.”

  Sophie cried out and kicked him as hard as she could but found that she could not stand on her other leg at all. She collapsed on the ground as Lord Dunstable let out a cry of pain where she had connected, only for him then to grab her hair and attempt to haul her to her feet.

  Recognition flared in his eyes when the light his her face.

  “You little witch,” Lord Dunstable hissed. He grabbed her face with one hand and pulled her closer to the candlelight. “So you decided to you could hide away from me, did you?”

  “Leave me be!” Sophie whispered, struggling against him. “Leave me, I beg you!”

  Lord Dunstable squeezed her cheeks painfully. “I have been searching high and low for you, and here you are in the home of my friend,” he growled, slamming her against the wall so hard that all of her breath shot out of her body. “Did you really think you could hide from me?” He let his fingers trace down her throat, his other hand now on her arm. “I always get what I want, Sophie. You should know that by now.”

  Sophie cried out again, only to receive a sharp, stinging blow across the face. She tasted blood, her head spinning as she tried in vain to move away from him. Her ankle was too painful to stand on, and his strength was beginning to overcome her.

  His hands began to rake at her skirts and, fighting with all she had, Sophie tried hard to push him away, screaming at the top of her voice. He slapped her again but Sophie did not stop trying to wrench herself away from him. She tried to slump to the floor, but he grasped her shoulders and held her against the wall, pressing the length of his body against hers.

  This was it. She was doomed. There was nothing she could do. Panic gripped her as he pressed his fingers to her throat, his meaning clear.

  “Do not try to fight me anymore, Sophie,” he whispered, threateningly. “I do not intend to make things easy for you. If you want to live, you will do just as I say.”

  “I’d rather die first,” Sophie rasped out, hardly able to speak. “You shall never have me.”

  He chuckled, darkly. “We will see about that, Sophie.” He pressed his lips to hers and, even though she banged on his chest to try to make him let her go, he
simply pushed himself against her all the more.

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  The door to the study flew open, slamming against the wall. Lord Dunstable stepped back from Sophie at once, and she slumped to the floor, drawing her knees up and letting her head fall into her arms as she tried to catch her breath.

  “I’m just taking my pleasure with your maid,” Lord Dunstable replied, with a touch of humor. “Nothing to see here, Harrington.”

  “It seems like she does not want your particular attentions, Dunstable,” Harrington replied, firmly, stepping closer to Sophie. “And I do not want my staff treated in such a way.”

  Sophie shuddered violently and he bent down to look at her. He reached out a hand and lifted her head, to gasp with horror at what he saw. Sophie knew her face was already swelling, and, as he touched her cheek gently, she could not help but wince. A flash of anger in his eyes and a growl from his throat told her that he was enraged by what Dunstable had done and he turned sharply to the man.

  She knew that now the truth would come out. Dunstable would not hide her identity. What would Harrington feel for her then, knowing she had lied to him for all this time?

  “Get. Out.”

  Lord Harrington rose to his feet, glaring at Lord Dunstable, who merely laughed.

  “I said, get out,” Harrington repeated, glowering at him. “No one treats my staff this way. You are not welcome here, Dunstable.”

  “Ah, you feel something for the little maid,” Lord Dunstable replied, easily. “I suppose she has not told you, then.”

  There was a short pause.

  “Told me what?”

  Lord Dunstable chuckled, wandering over to Sophie and reaching out a hand to her. As Sophie shuddered, Lord Harrington stepped between them, keeping Malcolm away.

  “This is my fair cousin, Lord Harrington, the one who went missing.”

  The atmosphere grew thick. Sophie could hardly breathe, desperate for Lord Harrington to understand.

 

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