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Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

Page 37

by St. Clair, Ellie


  Sophie was determined to put herself to some useful endeavor, if nothing else, to show her gratefulness. She did not want to neglect the accounts, not when she knew Benjamin found them somewhat difficult, and she was so close to finishing her review. Besides which, she had not spoken to him of the mistakes she had found, although she was now quite certain that they were not simply accidental.

  On finding no one within the study, Sophie carefully made her way to her desk in the corner of the room, sat down, and began to continue with her work.

  “Sophie!”

  Glancing up, her quill pausing in its work, Sophie could not help but laugh at the astonished expression on Benjamin’s face.

  “Whatever is the matter?” she asked, as he came over and took the quill from her hand before pulling her up to stand next to him.

  He shook his head, his gaze unreadable. “You do not need to do the accounts any longer,” he said quietly, his hands going around her waist to help her away from the desk. “You do not work for me anymore. You never should have been working for me.”

  “I really do not mind,” she said, “it’s the least I can do…”

  “Sophie,” he stopped her. “We must speak of your -- our -- future.”

  She nodded and stood, finding herself quite close to him, feeling the heat through his linen shirt. She looked up, and her face came just inches away from his. She licked her lips as her pulse began racing.

  “You don’t shrink from me today,” he commented.

  “No,” she responded, bowing her head. “My apologies. Last night I was … I couldn’t help but …”

  “I understand,” he said. “A man such as me is not so different than Lord Dunstable. I should have realized how you would feel.”

  “That is not it at all!” she exclaimed. “You would not press unwanted attentions on me --”

  “But I did. I went so far I caused you to slap me.”

  “And you stopped,” she said. “That would have only redoubled the efforts of my cousin.”

  He looked down at her, at the trust in her eyes, and he reached down to cup her cheek. “I am so very sorry for what you have been through.”

  He began to speak, but Sophie tilted her head to him and pressed her mouth against his gently. When he groaned, she could not help but melt against him, her arms going around his neck almost of their own accord. She lost herself when she was with him. She forgot to worry about the future, where she would go, what she would do, and that she would be alone once more.

  The heat from his body burned her, setting her alight as he angled his head. His hand reached between them, cupping her breast, stroking her through the thin fabric of her dress. She gave a soft moan, and his hands slid behind her, cupping her backside as he lifted her up on the desk against his stirring manhood, that longed too --

  He pushed away from her, breathing heavily.

  “Bloody hell,” he cursed as Sophie tried to slow her pulse.

  “Whatever is the matter?” she asked breathily, her fingers still twined around his lapels. He looked at her, her eyes glazed, her lips reddened by his attentions and her dress askew.

  “After everything you’ve been through, I cannot keep my hands off you for one day,” he muttered in disgust. “I suppose it proves I am the man everyone believes me to be.”

  “Was I not the one to press my attentions on you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  He shook his head. “Well, at the very least, I suppose I cannot ruin you, as we are now betrothed.”

  She angled her head as she looked up at him. “And that is why you feel you should marry me, to save me from ruination?”

  “Did we not already discuss this last night?” he said in frustration. “Of course! I told my father I would show him I am not the man he thought. It seems he was correct in his assumptions but the least I can do is prove to him that now I will take responsibility for my actions.”

  Her eyes fell to the floor before they snapped up to meet his.

  “I shall be no one’s responsibility, my lord,” she said, anger in her voice.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, surprised at the bite in her tone.

  “I mean that I do not wish to be a burden, or to owe anyone anything. I apologize for using your home as a safe haven. You did not ask for my deception, but I did not ask for marriage. I will not have you take me as a bride out of misplaced guilt over kisses in the study. My reputation does not matter to me, but rather that I am free from my cousin. You have allowed that to be so, and I thank you for that. But please, do not worry yourself about me any longer.”

  She moved to walk past him, and he reached out to grab her arm.

  “Sophie --”

  “Don’t touch me!” she said, jumping away from him, reacting without thinking before seeing the shock and dismay on his face. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean --”

  “No need to explain. I understand,” he said, turning his face away from her. “Go if that’s what you want. I’ll contact my father and have him arrange a place for you in the city, where you will be safe. Go to the parlor if you’d be more comfortable there.”

  Tears sprang into her eyes and she watched him as he took his seat in the chair behind his desk. He looked confused, and it tugged at her heart, but she refused to allow herself to give into her emotions. He felt a responsibility toward her and obviously desire, but not love or even affection anymore, which is what she needed. She turned and left the room, her skirts but a whisper as she walked out the door.

  21

  Coward, she said to herself as she packed her bag with her few belongings. Why could she not voice what she truly wanted to Benjamin? Because she was afraid of his response, she realized. A man like him had been with many women -- beautiful, experienced women. She was sure he had his choice of many potential brides in London. She would not tie him down to her out of a sense of obligation.

  She sat down at the desk in her room, and penned a few quick notes, to Mrs. Martins, Mrs. Potts, and Benjamin himself. They were short thank yous, for allowing her reprieve from her cousin, providing her with a refuge. She apologized for any deception and asked for forgiveness.

  She moved stealthily through the house to avoid notice. She knew if anyone saw her they would urge her to stay, but she would be a burden to no one any longer. She had enough coin that if she could find a way to London, she could lose herself in the city, where she could put herself up for a few nights at an inn before seeking out employment. Perhaps she would be better off as a governess, she thought. She had proved somewhat adapt at teaching Benjamin his figures, and she wasn’t sure she could pass herself off as a maid again without someone like Mrs. Martins to help her.

  It took some time, but she convinced the groom to help her prepare her horse. She told him she was simply meeting a family member at the nearby inn. Perhaps there she could sell her horse and find passage to London. She felt a stab of guilt at her lie. It seemed all of the staff was aware by now of her true identity, and the groom saw no reason not to believe her.

  As she rode away from the property, tears began to stream down Sophie’s face as she thought of Benjamin. Would he feel relief to be freed from his promise to her? Would he be angry that she had left without a word? She had not known him long, but already she realized just how much she would miss him.

  The longer she stayed, however, the more her feelings for him would grow and the harder it would be to leave. She had not said goodbye because a few soft words or kisses from him and she would be lost to his charm, and a burden once more.

  She had not ridden far when she heard the rumble of a carriage approaching from behind her. She tried to make her way off the road unseen, but it quickly rounded the curve behind her and she had been much too late.

  “Sophie!” she heard the voice through the carriage doors as it pulled to a stop beside her. Had Benjamin realized she had left already? How could he have known so soon?

  Frowning as the carriage pulled up next to her, she could not s
ee the person within. Sophie thought that Benjamin had sounded a little different from before and she tried to peer inside at him.

  “Benjamin? Where are you?”

  A strong hand shot out from within as Malcolm burst from the carriage, at her immediately. Her horse backed away quickly, but Malcolm held onto the reins and pulled her down quickly. Before she knew it, a knife was pressed against her throat. Sophie tried to scream but the blade pressed a little harder against her skin, forcing her to remain quiet.

  “Don’t even think about it, Sophie,” Malcolm hissed, his voice sending shivers of terror straight through her. “Did you really think that I’d just do as your lover said and leave without you?” He chuckled mirthlessly, making her shudder. “I’ve told you more than once that I always get what I want – and that includes you.”

  “Please,” Sophie managed to whisper, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. “Just leave me alone!”

  His grip tightened painfully. “Never,” he bit out, harshly. “You’re mine and no one else’s. And my dear Sophie, how easy you made this for me! Now walk!”

  Sophie had no other choice but to move away from her horse as Malcolm released the knife from her throat but now pressed against her back. She had to do what Dunstable said or risk losing her life.

  “And if you scream or try to run, I’ll cut you into pieces,” Dunstable said, firmly, as they got to his own carriage. “I’d rather have you dead than in his arms.”

  Hearing the coldness of his words, Sophie knew that he would do exactly that. He had gone quite mad with rage and she was forced to do as he asked. Despair began to build as she tried to stall in front of the the enclosed carriage that would carry her away with the man she had tried so hard to escape from. Why had she been so stupid as to leave Benjamin’s home?

  “Get in,” Dunstable said, pushing her forward. “And remember, not a sound.”

  Stumbling slightly, Sophie managed to climb into the carriage, wincing as her ankle began to throb once more. The carriage moved almost at once, taking her away from the only safety she had known since she had left her cousin’s home. Her heart ached. Benjamin would read her note and believe she had left of her own will. He would never know she had been taken. How could she possibly rid herself of her cousin now?

  * * *

  Benjamin rose when he heard a knock on the study door. “Come in,” he said, looking up, hopeful to find Sophie at his door, but instead he found Mrs. Martins standing there, looking at him nervously as she folded a piece of vellum in her hands.

  “Mrs. Martins,” he said, rising. Guilt pricked at him for how he had spoken to her last night. Clearly he had somewhat terrified the woman, although he had thought her a stoic sort. “Can I help you?”

  “My lord…” her voice trailed. “It seems Miss Sophie has … left.”

  “She what?”

  “She left, my lord,” she replied, her eyes flicking from one side of the room to the other but never landing on him. “She left me a note, and there was one with your name on it as well.”

  She walked over to him, passing him the sheet of paper with somewhat tremulous fingers. He was shocked to find his fingers shaking as well as he opened the paper, though from nerves or anger, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even notice Mrs. Martins quietly leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

  The note was not long, written in the elegant handwriting he had begun to know so well.

  Dear Lord Harrington,

  Thank you for all you have done for me. I have felt nothing but your kindness and generosity in my time as both a maid and a guest in your home. I appreciate all you have offered me but I find that I am unable to accept. I no longer wish to be a burden to you or your family.

  I have finally found the courage to do what I should have from the beginning -- find a place for myself, where no one knows me or my background, far from my cousin and all he has threatened.

  I wish you well. Know you are a good man, and I hope you find the love and happiness you deserve.

  Yours always,

  Sophie

  Benjamin’s fist closed over the paper, wrinkling it in his palm. She was gone. She wished him well. A growl escaped his throat as he thought of her alone on the road. He told himself the ache that began to throb in his chest was due to his worry for her unprotected state, and not because of what he felt for her.

  He knew he wanted her, that much was certain. And he cared for her. What he felt for her ran much deeper than any feelings he had held for other women before, who he wanted for their bodies and not who they truly were on the inside.

  It was his own fault that she had left. With his kisses and taking advantage, he had pushed her away. She didn’t want to be tied to marriage to a man like him, and could no longer abide to be under the same roof. His gaze drifted over to the seat where she had bent over her work for so many days. Her ink and quill sat waiting for her return. His anger broiling to the surface, he strode over and threw them to the floor. Breathing heavily, he marched to the sideboard and poured himself a good-sized drink from the decanter. As he threw it back swiftly, it burned his throat, settling in the pit of his stomach, where it simmered in the emptiness that remained.

  * * *

  He was sitting there in his chair, a second drink in, when a knock came on the door and his butler entered.

  “My lord,” he began, “Lord Haversham is in the drawing room, questioning your absence as well as that of Lord Dunstable. Do you wish me to --”

  “Bloody hell,” he interrupted. “I completely forgot the man. I’ll see to him myself.”

  If he was going to drink, he might as well not drink alone. Besides that, he realized he had entirely neglected to tell Haversham what had been going on with Dunstable. He had been too caught up with Sophie’s situation. However, Lord Haversham must now be quite confused as to what had happened.

  Benjamin found him standing in the drawing room, drink in hand, looking most perturbed.

  “My apologies, Haversham,” Benjamin said as he walked in. “In truth – and you must not take this badly – I quite forgot about you.”

  The man did not look the least bit offended, although his pale blue eyes registered a little surprise.

  “Lord Dunstable has been removed from my house,” Benjamin continued, quickly explaining what had taken place last night. “I am sorry to say that his time here has come to an abrupt end although, of course, you are more than welcome to remain.”

  Lord Haversham frowned, rubbing one hand over his brow. He appeared quite dazed and Benjamin wondered if the man was still suffering the ill effects of drinking a little too much brandy the previous evening.

  “Lord Dunstable went last night, you say?” Lord Haversham muttered, looking thoroughly confused. “I must say, that does not seem quite right.”

  Benjamin bit back a sigh and cleared his throat instead, drawing Haversham’s attention. “What do you mean, Haversham?”

  “I mean that I was quite sure I saw Lord Dunstable outside my window this morning.”

  An icy hand of fear wrapped itself around Benjamin’s heart. “Outside your window?”

  “Yes, I’m quite sure it was him,” Lord Haversham continued, still frowning. “I thought it odd he was in his carriage around the back of the house. I couldn’t understand it, to be quite honest with you. Then his carriage took off as I left my room and looked out. It seemed to be in quite the hurry.”

  Benjamin did not wait to hear another word, his heart slamming wildly into his chest as he hurried from the room, practically running through the halls, shouting for his housekeeper.

  “Mrs. Martins!” he called frantically. “Mrs. Martins!”

  The woman stepped out of the servants’ quarters, a shocked look on her face.

  “When did she leave -- Sophie?” he asked, his gaze wild.

  “I found the notes on my desk just minutes ago, so it could have been any time this morning. Perhaps the grooms will know,” she said. “Why, is something the m
atter?”

  “I believe Lord Dunstable may have followed her,” he said. “I must go after her at once.”

  Benjamin drew in a deep breath, steadying himself for a moment. He had no thought but for Sophie, his heart crying out for her already. He knew if Dunstable had her, he would not give her back without a fight. He couldn’t think of what might have happened to her already.

  Running full tilt, Benjamin raced to the stables, shouting wildly for his horse. The groomsmen, although startled to see him in such a wild state, did as they were bid and, within minutes, Benjamin was mounting his horse – a large, black stallion he knew to be a fast ride. He had no weapon with him but could not risk returning for one, aware that every moment that passed was another moment that Sophie was growing further and further away from him.

  Benjamin was thankful that the ground was damp, and he was able to make out the carriage tracks clearly. His heart pounded in fear as he rode, terrified that Dunstable had already done something to Sophie. Berating himself as he pushed his horse faster, Benjamin cursed himself under his breath for leaving their conversation on bad terms, for not being more attentive to the fact that Lord Dunstable might have meant every word he said, every threat he’d made. Benjamin had been foolish enough to believe that Dunstable had simply turned back for home, as though Benjamin’s warnings had forced the man to quietly leave without trying to reclaim what he considered to be his.

  “I will find you, Sophie,” Benjamin whispered into the wind as he pushed his horse to a gallop. “I swear I will find you.”

  22

  A sudden shriek rent the air, and Benjamin reined his horse in, making it rear up. Managing to keep his seat, he held on tightly, forcing his stallion to remain still. He could hear shouts, mingled with cries of fright which tore at his heart. It had to be Sophie.

  Dismounting, he quickly tied his horse to a nearby tree and, making his way slowly forward, saw the carriage up ahead, just around the corner. The canopy of trees made it a gloomy patch of earth, adding to his anxiety. He could hear the sounds of a flowing river coming from somewhere close by, though he could not quite make out where it was coming from. Pressing himself against a large tree trunk, he carefully looked around it to get a closer look at the carriage.

 

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