Page 75 of Love Unraveled
—Shakespeare,Hamlet
“Iam hungryand tired.” Sophia had hoped the duke would doze so she might be able to somehow knock him out, but neither had he slept nor could she see anything heavy enough to do any damage.
“And I grow weary of your complaints.” The duke brushed at his jacket dismissively. “But you are in luck. My coachman must rest, so we will be stopping soon.”
Anticipation coursed through Sophia’s veins. If they were stopped, she might have a chance to escape. She watched the duke. While half his face was hidden in the shadows, his eyes were unmistakably opened as wide as they had been all day.
“Don’t even consider it, my dear Countess,” he said, finally looking directly at her.
“Consider what?”
“You can feign innocence all you want. I know there is nothing innocent about you.” He snorted in amused disgust. “If you try to leave my side, or try to alert anyone, I assure you, your Frenchman will die.”
Sophia weighed her options. Gaston was in London. She could get the authorities to her town house if the duke was taken into custody. Lord Drake would not know the duke had been caught and would be waiting for word.
“You don’t really believe Drake has remained at your town house?” he said, reading her mind. “If so, you truly are naive. He has moved your Frenchman elsewhere and awaits word from me as to how to proceed. And how we proceed is entirely up to you.”
Her stomach churned. He could be lying, but she could not take the chance. She decided it was best she wait until they arrived at her estate. There was only a skeleton staff at Château Nouveau, as many had come to London with her, but Stefano was there. He would take care of the duke. She could send word to London about Gaston. And Harris.
She bit her lip to stop the emotion bubbling at the memory of the two of them lying on the floor. She glanced at the duke, who was now staring blankly at the shuttered window. Hate rose within her. Strong and righteous, it subdued all other emotion. The duke would pay.
The carriage rolled to a stop. The duke grabbed his overcoat from the hook and tossed it at her. “Cover yourself. You’re a mess.”
She looked at her dress. Gaston’s blood stained her left shoulder and breast. She could not remember wiping her hands on herself. Had it been only this morning she’d exchanged her violet dress for this one because she’d rumpled the first when making love? Choosing white because she’d felt like that young girl from long ago? She ran her hand across the dried smears.Gaston. Oh,mon amour, stay strong.
“I said, put it on. And remember, not a word. Not an inkling of distress.”
The door opened, and the duke quickly ducked out. Sophia slid across the seat and took the coachman’s proffered hand. He kept his eyes averted as he assisted her. She would find no help from him. She hadn’t truly expected to. The duke would keep servants as loyal to him as hers were to her. She thought of Raimondo and how this would not have happened had he been allowed to stay by her side. He was going to kill her when he found out.
She didn’t recognize the small coaching inn, but she did not travel for as long at a time as they had today. They’d stopped only to change horses and, once, to allow her to relieve herself on the side of the road. She would have been indignant had the need not been so great.
The inn smelled of sour ale and horse dung, and she was surprised the duke stooped so low in accommodation. Of course, it might be to avoid anyone they might know, or simply because he could afford nothing more. She had always known he was interested in her money, had known the debts he’d incurred through gambling. The embezzlement discovery had come the morning after she and Gaston and had done the handfast. She’d decided to keep the information to herself, should she need it to ensure the duke did not harass her or Gaston. Never had she imagined he would threaten their very lives.
The grizzly innkeeper fawned over the duke and ignored her. He led them to a room on the second floor, facing away from the courtyard. He left the lamp, promising someone would come with the requested food, sparing her a leering glance before bowing his way out of the room and shutting the door behind him. Sophia dropped the duke’s coat to the floor, detesting the scent of him on it, and went to the window. She stared out at the darkness, grateful to be standing and letting the blood flow through her stiff legs.
“You might as well sit, Countess.”
She ignored him but watched his dark reflection as he scraped a chair across the floor, bringing it closer to the door. Some time later, there was a tap. A servant came in and quickly lit a fire. He was followed by a maid who set a tray on the table and scurried back out. Still, Sophia kept her back to the duke, her mind too tired to think, her heart too weary for her to look him in the face again. Who was this man who had courted her? She prided herself on her ability to read people. How could she not have seen the beast within?
“I thought you were hungry.”
Sophia wasn’t any longer, but she knew better than to let her strength ebb from lack of nourishment. She needed to have her wits about her if she was to get out of this situation safely. The duke got up, bolted the door, and pushed the chair against it, effectively blocking a quick exit for her. She had no intention of trying it anyway. She was no longer certain Gaston was at the town house, and she could not risk the duke sending word to Lord Drake. She did not know the way out of this yet, but she would find it. She and Gaston had not come this far to be parted by this man’s greed.
She turned from the window and watched the duke saunter to the table. He pulled off the cloth from the platter and grunted before looking at her. “Come, Countess,” he said and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”
Sophia did as instructed, glimpsing in his gray eyes the return of the man she’d once thought she knew. He put some cold beef and a few wedges of cheese on her plate and pushed it toward her before filling a plate for himself and sitting opposite.
She nibbled the cheese, trying to ignore her rolling stomach as she watched him eat heartily, filling his plate a second time before speaking. “We could have been something special, you and I. We were most certainly compatible enough.”
Sophia picked up another small wedge, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth. She chewed it slowly, watching him, not saying a word.
“Careful, Countess. You are looking oddly enticing right now.” He grinned and tore off a chunk of beef, waving it at her. “I could spread you and breach you. No one would care. You could scream. No one would disturb us. You’re merely a duke’s whore here.”
It was not fear clogging her throat. It was anger. With difficulty, she swallowed the cheese, knowing to show either emotion would only fuel the duke more. She took a sip of the watered ale, and when she had successfully washed it down, she dabbed her lips with the grayed linen before setting it back on her lap.
“Why are you risking everything for money? Surely you are not the first man who has too many debts.” She was pleased with how calm her voice sounded.
He chewed his beef slowly, looking as though he was giving her question honest consideration. She waited.
