Miss Sophia's Spirited Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

  They'd made one stop during the days it took them to get here and he remained close to her at all time, a sharp knife poking at her back as a reminder. They'd taken their meals in the room they'd shared that night and though he'd tried to pull her into conversation, Sophia had resisted speaking to him unless necessary. She'd been glad when he'd given her the bed and had taken the floor. She knew he'd done it out of kindness, hoping the gesture would break her resolve, but with every passing moment, Sophia grew to hate him more.

  He hadn't brought up his daughters once during the trip and Sophia grew worried about them though she knew they were safe at Dovehaven. She didn't think the girls should live with their father at all. He was obviously mad.

  He sat on his own bench and the carriage began to move again. Earlier, Sophia had thought to ask the driver to aid in her escape but he seemed to avoid meeting her eyes and whenever Lom spoke to him, she saw fear. Had Lom threatened him as well?

  Lom leaned back in his seat. "I already told you, I'll change your mind about our union. We've weeks ahead of us before we return to England. You'll be back in love with me before then."

  Sophia prayed her courses wouldn't come during that time, though she knew them to be due soon.

  They arrived at a small farm just on the outskirts of the village.

  "Now remember," Lom said. "I won't be held responsible for what happens if anyone suspects that I've stolen you." He patted his side and she knew that underneath his jacket he hid a gun. She'd seen it more than once, though he never threatened her with it, only others. He was willing to kill anyone who got in their way.

  The driver opened the door and without much of a choice, Sophia allowed Helsby to carry her inside.

  A couple was there, seeming to have been waiting for their arrival with smiles. They were both small in stature compared to her and Lom.

  Helsby continued to hold her as he spoke to the couple. "Mr. And Mrs. Adcock, I would like you to meet my fiancée, Nancy." He'd changed her name to hide who she was.

  "We've a room ready for you both." Mrs. Adcock blushed. "You'll be able to share once the ceremony is over."

  Helsby stilled. "I'd prefer if we remained in the same room during the night."

  Mrs. Adcock looked at her husband with wide eyes.

  Mr. Adcock cleared his voice. "My lord, we be God-fearing folk." His Scottish accent was thicker than his wife's, which made Sophia believe the woman was not Scottish born. "It wouldn't be right if you shared a room until you were wed."

  "I don't give a damn what you think!" Helsby tightened his hold. "I sleep in the same room with Soph... Nancy. You rent the land from me. I allow you to work it. You will do as I say."

  The Adcocks looked at one another in fear.

  Sophia stared at Helsby and watched his emotion drain back into charm. "Forgive me. I only mean that Nancy is weak and will need care. I fear what could happen to her if I left her alone."

  Mrs. Adcock looked her over, stared at her bare feet, and nodded. "Oh, of course." She smiled. "We could put another bed in the room, I suppose."

  "That would be perfect," Helsby told her.

  Moments later, Sophia was placed on a bed and watched as Lom and the couple fixed the small room to accommodate two beds. Since the beds were small, that was not a very hard thing to do.

  "Are you hungry?" Mrs. Adcock asked.

  Sophia opened her mouth to reply.

  "She'd like a meal," Helsby answered for her. "And a pot of tea." He smiled at her.

  Sophia had to stop herself from glaring but once Mrs. Adcock was out of the room, she said, "Don't drug me again."

  "I must." He walked over and sat by her on the bed. He placed a hand on her knee. "I'll need a full night's sleep and it's the only way I can be certain that you don't run off." He reached up and smoothed her hair behind her back. "Don't worry. You'll feel better in the morning as well." He smiled. "Then we'll be wed as we should have been." He leaned forward to kiss her.

  Sophia turned away.

  His mouth made contact with her cheek.

  "I'll never come to you willingly," she whispered. "You're wasting your time."

  He ran his hands through her hair. "I've never felt the way I do about you with anyone else. Give us time to find our happiness again."

  "What we had was an illusion of your design," she told him. "I could never love a man like you, one who would fornicate while married, one who would leave his precious girls behind in the hands of strangers."

  "I'm sure they're all right." He was so calm. It was as though she weren't speaking to him at all.

  She turned to look at him, wondering if he'd always been this way or if something had happened to make him crazy. She was sure that in all the time she'd known him, he'd been sane but now she couldn't be sure. She now saw what sort of monster hid behind his smile and was sure he was capable of anything. Reality didn't seem to exist for him.

  Perhaps if she played along, he wouldn't drug her and she'd find a way to escape but without shoes that would be hard. It was probably the reason he'd not given her any, not even a pair of socks.

  She swallowed and stared at him. "Don't you think we should spend the night talking about our future?"

  He touched her brow. "I know what you're thinking and it won't work. I'm drugging you and we'll marry in the morning." He smiled at her and kissed her cheek before standing. "I'll go see what Mrs. Adcock is planning to offer. If I return and you're not here, I'll kill both of them." He almost danced out of the room.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY

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  Morris was out of the carriage the moment it stopped and so were the others. He was grateful that so many of his friends had come. It could help him find Sophia as quickly as possible.

  Everyone came together and immediately went out to search. They'd have to check with all the locals to find if anyone had seen Sophia because, according to Scottish law, anyone could perform the ceremony, though traditionally it was the blacksmith or a man of the church.

  He ignored the cold and the tiredness in his body as he and Aaron walked to the blacksmith's shop.

  The shop was warm with fires blazing and small with the smell of ash and iron in the room.

  There was a couple in the room with the blacksmith and Morris and Aaron took places in the corner and watched with the other witnesses as the ceremony began.

  "We're wasting time," Morris whispered. "They're not here."

  "Perhaps he's seen them." Aaron removed his hat and ran a hand through his blond hair. "I should have kept a better eye on him. I knew he'd go after her, I simply didn't know his mind had fallen to such a low state."

  Morris looked at him. "You know Helsby?" He hadn't spoken to Aaron during the journey since they'd not ridden in the same carriage.

  Aaron shrugged, staring at the wedding. "I know of him. We're acquainted."

  "How so?"

  Aaron's blue eyes turned to him. "He's my cousin. A distant cousin."

  The ceremony came to an end and the couple and witnesses left. Morris moved to speak to the blacksmith, making a mental note to question Aaron further about Lord Helsby.

  The blacksmith began to speak before he did. "The earliest I can marry you to your women is in two days." He turned and sat in the chair and began to put on gloves, looking ready to get back to work. "Where are the brides?"

  "I'm not getting married," Aaron said in a way that seemed final. He would not get married, not today, not in two days, not ever.

  "We're actually looking for a woman," Morris said.

  The blacksmith smiled and looked over at him. "Rhona who works in the inn is unwed. You could take her off her parents’ hands." He laughed. "She's not the most beautiful woman but she'll do. Great cook and all, though by the looks of you, I doubt you'll be expecting your womenfolk to make meals."
He started to stoke a fire to life. Tools were spread next to him. He looked at Aaron. "Rhona has a sister as well. Morag. She's pretty but only sixteen, probably too young for a man like you." He seemed unbothered by the fact that Morris and Aaron were obviously wealthy men if not lords. It made Morris wonder just how many lords the man had seen that day.

  Aaron broke in again and spoke slowly. "I'm not getting married."

  "Every man needs a wife." The blacksmith turned to them. "Most people take donations but I require a price for my services."

  Morris cut him off. "Did you marry a lord by the name of Helsby today?"

  "My clients pay for discretion as well. It's an extra fee. That way mommies and daddies don't come looking for me when their children return home wed." The blacksmith turned away.

  Morris' temper was raising. "What is your name, sir?"

  "Agnus Duncan," he said with pride.

  "I'm Lord Cort."

  "Cort?" Mr. Duncan narrowed his eyes. "Sounds familiar."

  Morris clenched his hands. "It's a city... a very large one."

  "Oh!" The blacksmith snapped his fingers, which didn't make a sound through his gloves. "You must be really proud of yourself."

  Aaron took a step toward the blacksmith.

  Morris shot a hand out to stop him. The last thing they needed was blood. "How much to break your silence?"

  "Two pounds," the blacksmith said quickly.

  "Two pounds!" Aaron's eyes widened. "Some men make less than that in a month."

  "But not the Duke of Cort." Mr. Duncan grinned and held out his hand.

  Morris dug for the coins and presented them to the blacksmith, his fingers slightly trembling.

  The blacksmith asked. "What does your Lord Helsby look like?"

  Morris could hardly remember.

  "He's got blue eyes and brown hair," Aaron said. "He's graying. His face is plain but he will seem like the nicest man you've met."

  The blacksmith grinned. "Oh, he came by earlier today. I've got him scheduled for a ceremony tomorrow. He said he couldn't give his name until tomorrow and paid well for the privacy. Only local witnesses, he said."

  Morris let out a sigh of relief. "Did he have a woman with him? Dark hair, green eyes?"

  Mr. Duncan shook his head. "No. He came alone. I suspected the woman was in the carriage he came in."

  Morris turned to Aaron. "We should search for the carriage."

  "Quite a few people here this week," the blacksmith said. "Might be hard to find him."

  Morris started out the door and Aaron followed.

  "You know about Helsby's past?" Morris asked.

  Aaron walked beside him in the direction of the inn. That was where everyone was to meet. "I know when his wife caught ill he didn't allow doctors to see her. My mother suspected something, I could tell, though she's too good of a lady to say so. She was very sad to hear of Lady Helsby's death. His daughters, Lily and Mary, even before their mother's death were unnaturally quiet, even for girls."

  Morris had seen the girls at the party but hadn't paid anyone much attention except for Sophia. He wondered where she was and if they'd find her before the ceremony. If not, they would wait, though he preferred to have her with him as soon as possible.

  A cool wind picked up and nearly knocked Morris over. He was dead on his feet but unwilling to stop until he found her.

  They arrived at the inn and found Lorena and the other women sitting in a private dining room. Morris told them what they'd discovered.

  Genie let out a breath. "I hope she's all right. I can't wait until she's with us again."

  Neither could Morris. He didn't like the thought of not finding her until the ceremony. He wondered at the dangers she'd encountered during the journey. Had he hurt her in an effort to make her come with him?

  "I'm going out to look for her," Morris declared.

  The other men came in and the story was told once more.

  Emmett wrapped an arm around Lorena, reminding Morris of the intimacy he'd seen at the engagement party, the one that had awakened his inner desire to marry not just for duty but for love. He'd be damned if he let another man have Sophia.

  "I'll go with you," Emmett said.

  You don't have to," Morris said.

  Emmett let Lorena go and stepped forward, his gray eyes unwavering. "You were there for me when Lorena was kidnapped. You can't actually expect me or anyone else to rest easy until this is over."

  Morris looked around the room and saw the worry reflected in everyone. He nodded. "All right."

  "I'll go, too," Julius said.

  "And me." Aaron crossed his arms. "I should have dealt with him when I saw him speaking to Sophia at the party. This is my fault."

  "Not at all," Morris said. "The man is unstable." He closed his eyes as a headache set in.

  "Morris, why don't you rest for an hour or so?" Lorena asked. "You're tired and there is no way you'll get anything done in this state. You'll never be able to face Lord Helsby if you can barely keep on your feet."

  Morris knew she was right but reasoning barely mattered. "The longer he has her the more danger she could be in."

  "You said they'd marry tomorrow," Alice said.

  "Do any of you truly believe Sophia plans to let that man marry her?" Morris sat in a chair. "She wouldn’t even let me marry her and she loves me." And that bothered him. If she fought, who knew what Helsby would do?

  Lorena sat beside him and placed a hand on his arm. "You're right."

  Emmett said, "A group of us will go. Rest, Morris. We'll wake you in a few hours. We've still the whole day to find her."

  Morris nodded and got to his feet. Then he thanked everyone and left the room. In the room he'd been given to sleep in, he found rest swiftly, though he'd fought it for as long as he could. Lorena had been right. He'd been tired.

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  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

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  Sophia slowly opened her eyes and listened to the sounds in the room. She could hear the fire crackling and knew its glow would be gone soon from the shadows that danced on the wall. The room was nearly dark. She could hear soft breathing coming from the other room and shuddered, wondering if Lom were awake watching her or asleep.

  She'd managed to escape having to drink most of the tea by positioning the rug that had been by the bed underneath the small dining table that sat by the fireplace. She'd taken a guess that they would not dine formally with the Adcocks and had been correct. During the meal, whenever Lom looked elsewhere she poured or spit the tea into the rug, the sound muffled against the thick fabric. One way she'd made sure to keep him busy was by placing snow she'd collected from the window in the fireplace, wetting the logs, and eventually making it hard for the logs to catch fire.

  She was going to escape tonight and prayed someone would deliver her back to Kidd Castle before Lom was the wiser. She took a chance and turned over to look in Lom's direction. The bed hardly made a noise but in the dark, it was hard to tell if his eyes were open or not. He sat in a chair directly in front of the door. He'd removed his jacket and boots but nothing else. Lom had hardly glanced at the second bed the Adcocks had been nice enough to bring in. Sophia had only been glad that he'd not looked at her bed either.

  She stared at his face as she slowly sat up, her heart racing louder than the sounds of the room. She slipped her feet out of the bed and placed them on the warm wooden floor. She walked over to him slowly, continuing to look at him, and almost let out an audible sigh when she saw he was asleep.

  A loud knock sounded at the door and to Sophia’s great horror, Lom woke up. The knock went on and Sophia slowly backed away.

  Lom produced a knife, grabbed her, and forced her against the door. “Remain quiet.”

  She wanted to weep with anger at whomever had knocked. If the night had gone on undisturb
ed, she would have stolen Lom’s boots and slipped through the window.

  “If you speak or shout, I’ll cut you,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t make me cut you.”

  Her heart shook and tears spilled down her face. She was sure she’d never get this chance again.

  The door was eventually answered by Mr. Adcock.

  Sophia pressed her lips together to hold back a moan of sorrow at hearing Morris’ voice. He’d come for her himself. She should have known he would.

  “I’m Lord Cort.” Morris’ voice was strong, carrying through the small house.

  “The fool,” Lom hissed. “Doesn’t he get it? You’re mine now.” Lom pushed his body against her back, pressing her further into the door. “No one is going to take you from me, Sophia, do you understand? I’ll die before I let that happen.” He breathed heavily in her hair. “We’ll both die before I let that happen.”

  Sophia was crying hard but she kept it as quiet as possible.

  Mr. Adcock spoke, surprise in his voice. “What can I do for you, Your Grace?”

  “I’m looking for a man and a woman.” Morris gave Lom’s description and then hers. “Have you seen them?”

  “No,” Mr. Adcock said quickly. “No one comes out here, Your Grace. We’re just simple farmers, my wife and me.”

  He was lying. Sophia stood only yards away and Morris would probably never know. She had heard Lom speaking to Mrs. Adcock about the rest of his family’s property further north. She’d listened as she’d planned her escape. He planned to take Sophia away once they were wed and had asked the best place to purchase her a wedding trousseau … and other things they would need to fill their house, new dishes and china. He asked about the people who lived in the next city over, if there were any English, and in the end, Sophia had known that Lom had no plan of returning to England anytime soon or if ever. He would keep her away from the world, force her to live as though they were the only people who existed. He didn’t even care about his daughters. That broke her heart but no matter what, she couldn’t let him break her spirits. One way or another, she would free herself.