by HELEN HARDT
“Goodness, is he all right?”
“Dr. Blake is attending him. He expects him to recover.”
“My God…” Brighton said, raking his fingers through his silvery hair. “Is it possible that Bertram is innocent as he claims?”
“I’m afraid at this point anything is possible, my dear,” Iris said.
“Mother… F-Father…” The word stumbled off her tongue. “I need you both to know something.”
“What is it, Sophie?”
“I know that you refused Mr. Newland’s request to court me, and I know neither of you were happy with my choice to become…intimate with him.”
The earl grunted. Iris simply sighed.
“Mother, you wanted me to find love. I have found it. Zach is perfectly well-off and will be able to support me just fine. And he will let me continue to perform. We will run the theatre together. We’ve talked about it.”
Iris gasped. “This is never what I wanted for you, Sophie.”
“Did you want me to be a spinster forever? I have found a worthy man who loves me and whom I love.”
“But the working…”
“I enjoy the working. And…I’m good at it. I’m good at something!” Sophie smiled, lifting her skirts and twirling around. “I can bring joy to other people by singing. Is that not the greatest gift someone can have? To make others happy?”
Brighton grunted again. “If the girl insists on working, Iris, there is not much we can do. And she is talented. There’s no denying that.”
Iris smiled. “I want only what’s best for you, Sophie. I admit, I’ve never seen you happier since you’ve been with the theatre.”
Sophie smiled again, but worry for Zach stripped it from her quickly. “Thank you both.”
“But don’t you want children, Sophie?” Iris said.
“Of course I do. You know how much I love Maureen and little Sophie, and little Morgan and little Joy.”
“But if you’re working, how would you care for children?”
“There is no law that says I have to have children right away, is there?”
“Well, children have a way of coming into the world whether you are ready for them or not,” Iris said.
“Zach and I will figure it out together. I promise you. You will have more grandchildren.” Sophie fidgeted with her handkerchief. “Right now, Zach is the most important thing. Once he recovers, maybe he’ll remember some details about who attacked him.”
“Yes.” Brighton cleared his throat. “And for the time being, we need to alert the constables that you received another note and find out if there’s any way Bertram could’ve sent it from his cell.”
“I don’t see how that could be the case,” Iris said.
“You’d be surprised, my love,” the earl said. “Criminal minds have a way of getting things done.”
Sophie shivered. The man was behind bars, and still she and Zach were not safe from him.
A knock on the door startled all three of them.
“Yes,” the earl called.
Graves entered, his demeanor solemn. “I beg pardon, my lord, my ladies. Another parchment has arrived for Lady Sophie.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sophie froze, ice penetrating her heart. Not another one… How was he writing them while he was incarcerated? How was he getting them delivered?
“I’ll take that, Graves,” the earl said, standing. “Who delivered it?”
“One of the messenger boys in town.”
“The same one who has delivered the rest of the notes?”
“I cannot say, my lord. It’s been weeks since we received one of the notes, and Mr. Bertram took possession of some of those, so they may not have been delivered at all.”
“All right, then. Thank you, Graves.”
Graves bowed politely and left.
“What does it say, David?” Iris asked.
Brighton read the note, and his face went white. He folded the parchment.
“David?” Iris nudged.
“Nothing you two need to concern yourselves with.”
Sophie whipped her hands to her hips. “I certainly do need to concern myself with it. A woman was murdered because of this person’s obsession with me, and now Zach has been attacked. Please, my lord, you must tell me what it says.”
He nodded. “If it’s all right with you, Iris.”
Iris’s lips trembled. “Go ahead.”
Brighton cleared his throat. “It says, ‘You will be mine now.’”
Sophie shook her head. “I don’t understand. Everyone knows I am betrothed to Zach. Does Bertram not know that Zach will recover?”
“Probably not,” the earl said. “After all, Mr. Bertram is being held. Clearly he must’ve had someone else attack Mr. Newland, and he doesn’t realize that whoever did the attacking left before he finished the job.”
Sophie’s heart dropped to her stomach. Left before he finished the job… Someone had truly meant to kill Zach.
Why it hadn’t happened, she didn’t know. Perhaps a servant had been near to discovering them, or perhaps whoever it was had lost his nerve.
The truth hit her more forcefully, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Zach could be dead right now.
Whoever was obsessed with her wanted Zach dead.
Dear God…
“Mother, my lord, I’m not sure Zach is safe in the hospital. Bertram will send someone else after him.”
“Sophie,” the earl said, “I think we need to face the fact that perhaps Mr. Bertram is innocent as he claims. It would be too difficult for him to send notes and facilitate an attack on Mr. Newland from inside a prison cell.”
Confusion muddled Sophie’s mind. If it wasn’t Bertram, whoever was responsible for this was still out there. And an innocent man was being held captive. None of this made any sense.
“I don’t understand any of this. Why would someone be obsessed with me of all people? I’m a nobody.”
Iris took her hand. “Sophie, my dear girl, you’ve never been a nobody. And after last night… Well, you’re going to be the toast of Bath.”
That didn’t make Sophie feel any better. She had loved working on the show, and opening night had been more than she’d ever imagined, but being a public figure would only put her and Zach in more danger.
“Mother, we have to find out who’s doing this. If it’s not Mr. Bertram, who could it be?”
“I don’t know, my dear. David?”
“Graves had good evidence implicating Bertram. They found parchments matching the notes to Sophie in his personal belongings, along with a pen and quill, all hidden in his chamber. In addition, Graves said he questioned the messenger boys, and none of them remembered delivering a message to Bertram. Yet Bertram intercepted several and brought them to Sophie. Circumstantial, yes, but it was enough for me to dismiss the man and have him arrested.”
“But what if they’re holding an innocent man?” Sophie said. “That isn’t fair.”
“You’re right,” the earl said. “But I think, at this point, it is best to keep Mr. Bertram incarcerated until we find the real culprit.”
Sophie gulped but nodded. She hated the idea of Mr. Bertram being locked up if he was indeed innocent, but the last thing they needed was one more potential suspect running around. “I just don’t have any idea who it could be.”
“Perhaps one of the cast members of the show?” Iris said.
“I don’t think so. None of them would ever hurt Zach. He’s their meal ticket, after all.”
Brighton nodded. “Sophie makes a good point.”
“In the meantime, I need to go visit Zach at the hospital,” Sophie said. “I’m frightfully worried for him.”
“I’m afraid not, Sophie,” the earl said. “I don’t want you leaving the estate until we find out who is behind this.”
“But…my rehearsals! You cannot keep me here.”
“Oh, I can, and I will. Your safety is paramount.”
�
��I’m afraid I agree with David,” Iris said. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” Sophie said. “This person is presumably in love with me. He’s trying to make my life better in his twisted way, not hurt me.”
“Perhaps that is so, but what I said stands. You are not to leave the estate.”
“What if I have some servants escort me?”
“No.” Brighton shook his head. “You are the safest here. For all we know, it is one of our own servants who is doing this to you. After all, we all thought it was Bertram. And it still might be. For now, Sophie, consider yourself under house arrest.”
* * *
Zach trudged through a murky black river, his muscles aching, his mind fraught with exhaustion. All around him was darkness, except for a small sliver of light in the distance. So far away…but it drew him like a magnetic force. He had to keep going… Had to get back…
Back to Sophie…
As he trudged, unintelligible voices murmured above him. He couldn’t make out any words, but they seemed to be urging him toward something, asking him for something…
He lifted his right leg out of the quicksand and stepped forward, drowning it in the murk again. Now the left leg…
The sliver of light started to fade away…
Must keep going… Must make it back to Sophie…
* * *
“Mr. Newland?”
Zach’s eyes fluttered open, his brain a mass of gibberish. A vaguely familiar face hovered above him, shining a light in his eye.
“Mr. Newland?” A light reflected off the man’s forehead.
Yes, the doctor’s head mirror. Was it…sunlight from the window reflecting off of it?
His thoughts were muddled.
The doctor held Zach’s eyes open with his finger, and again the head mirror reflected light into them. Zach tried to close them.
“Mr. Newland? Can you understand me?”
Yes, he understood. He tried to speak, but only a croak came out.
“It’s okay. Don’t try to talk. You’ll be talking in no time.”
The doctor placed his hands on both sides of Zach’s neck and palpated. “Any headache, Mr. Newland?”
Zach shook his head. At least he thought he shook his head. No headache but…fuzzy brain. His thoughts were jumbled.
“You’ve been unconscious for about twenty-four hours. You have a concussion. You also were poisoned—we think through a beverage. Luckily you didn’t get enough of it to harm you.”
Where am I?
But, of course, the words had not come out. Zach willed his lips to part and tried to force the words out. Again, all that came out was a grunt.
“Your voice will be back soon enough. I’m Dr. Michael Blake, your physician.”
Zach grunted again. What happened to me?
“We aren’t sure who is responsible for this, Mr. Newland. But the constables and inspectors are looking into it. We expect to have you out of here a few days.”
But the production. What about the production?
The stage director and manager would have to take care of things. His understudy was decent. If he had to do a few of the performances, so be it.
Sophie? Where is Sophie? And then he remembered. Trudging through the dark murk… The sliver of light leading him out. It was Sophie.
He opened his lips again. “Sophie.”
Dr. Blake turned back toward him. “What was that?”
“Sophie.” He exhaled.
“Lady Sophie MacIntyre. Of course. She has been here to ask about you. I’ll make sure she’s informed of your progress.”
Zach’s eyes fluttered shut. Everything was all right now. Sophie…
* * *
This must be what Ally felt like.
Sophie couldn’t help smiling at the recollection of all of Ally’s adventures after Mother and the earl had first gotten married. Evan had been left in charge of them, but Ally was determined to go to London to see her then paramour, Mr. Landon. She kept sneaking off the estate, paying off servants to get her to London. Evan had been mad as a bull, but the two ended up falling into deep love.
Now, here Sophie was, a good girl, paying off a couple of servants to get her to Zach’s house. She had heard from Dr. Blake that he had been released the day before. She intended to go see to him and take care of him. He needed her.
She walked quickly to the livery, her reticule filled with sovereigns to pay the servants for their silence. She smiled. Zach was at his home.
Until strong hands grabbed her from behind. Before she could cry out, a damp handkerchief was clamped over her face.
Not again. She had been through this before, nearly a year ago. How could it be happening again?
Don’t breathe, Sophie. Don’t breathe. Don’t breathe in the chemical on the handkerchief.
Don’t…
Breathe…
* * *
Zach felt better than he had in days as his coach made its way to the Brighton estate. Defying his doctor’s orders, he had left his home. His head was feeling fine, and he had his energy back. He needed to see Sophie and make sure she was all right. She had not been allowed to visit him in the hospital, and he would not have wanted her to see him that way anyway. But now all was right with the world, and he was coming to see the woman he loved. He pushed his feet against the floor of the coach, willing it to move faster. When they finally arrived at the manor, he alighted quickly and nearly ran to the door and knocked.
Graves answered, his lips in a stern line.
“Mr. Graves,” Zach said, a smile on his face, “I have come to see Lady Sophie.”
“Of course,” Graves said. “I will see if she is able to receive you.”
Zach stood in the foyer, waiting for Sophie. His feet wanted to dance a jig, so elated was he to be able to see the woman he loved.
A few moments later, Graves returned. “I’m afraid Lady Sophie is not receiving visitors today.”
“Did you tell her it was me?” Surely Sophie would want to see him.
“I did indeed. She said to please forgive her, but she is not feeling up to visitors today.”
“How very odd. I was sure she would want to see me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Newland. Perhaps tomorrow.”
Very odd. Zach’s neck chilled. Something wasn’t right. “What about Lord and Lady Brighton. Are they here?”
“I’m afraid no one is receiving today, sir.”
Zach left, sadness embracing him. He had so looked forward to seeing his lady.
Well, she would be at rehearsal tomorrow. Although his understudy would be performing the next two shows, Zach would still oversee the rehearsal, and he would see Sophie then. As he rode out, the summer sun was setting over the horizon in radiant rainbows of pink, violet, and orange.
He returned home, ate a small supper prepared by his chef, and retired to his chamber, his head hurting a bit. The doctor said he would have headaches for a few weeks. He took a headache powder, lay down, and fell into slumber. He would see Sophie on the morrow at rehearsal.
* * *
Sophie awoke in darkness, trembling with icy fear. She had been abducted once before, when a group of zealots against obscene literature had mistaken her for Ally and had taken her because they thought she was writing erotica. In truth, Ally had been the one writing the erotica. Evan and Ally had rescued her, but not without Evan getting shot. He recovered fully, thank God, but here she was in the same peril again. Someone had taken her.
She searched her mind. Yes, she had been on her way to the livery to have a coach take her to Zach’s house. She desperately needed to see the man she loved. She waited while her eyes got used to the darkness. Soon, a window drew her gaze, moonlight streaming in. So it was nighttime. She had no idea what time it was or even if it was the same day.
Footsteps shuffled in the other part of the house. For this was a house, wasn’t it? She was lying on
a bed. Her hands were bound together, as were her feet. She couldn’t move.
Her mouth was dry and parched. Perhaps they would give her some water?
“Hallo? Is anyone here?”
The shuffling came nearer.
“I…I am quite thirsty. May I have a drink of water?”
“We should have blindfolded her,” a voice said.
“He didn’t say to. He told us to bind her hands and feet, which we did,” another voice said.
Who were these people? And whom were they talking about?
Someone entered the room. Sophie couldn’t make out his facial features but he was large. He might have been wearing a mask. He pulled her arms up.
“Sit up, my lady.”
The stranger held out a dipper of water, and she drank from it. The lukewarm liquid soothed her parched throat but didn’t really quench her thirst. Her hairs stood on end as fear coursed through her veins.
When she had finished drinking, she looked up at the man holding the dipper. He was indeed wearing a black mask. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
“Those questions will be answered in the morning, my lady. For now, go ahead and rest.”
“But…I need to use…a chamber pot.”
“Oh, for corn’s sake. Jake, she needs a chamber pot,” the man yelled.
Jake? Sophie didn’t know anyone named Jake.
The other man brought in a chamber pot. “I don’t know what to tell you. I guess unbind her and then we’ll bind her back up. One of us will have to watch her.”
Sophie couldn’t bear the thought of it. “For goodness’ sake, where would I go? Please, just a little privacy.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Jake said. “I don’t really want to watch her piss anyway, Harry.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind.” Harry unbound her hands and then her feet, chuckling. “I’ll watch her. Make it quick like.”
“Please. I can’t have you…” She looked away. No privacy. Just like during her childhood…
“God a’mighty, fine,” Harry said. “You have two minutes.”
