Page 77 of Love Unraveled
“A few times.” The doctor smiled and dropped the bloodied cloth in the bucket at his feet. He wiped his needle and gathered the few things he’d taken out. “Now where is my other patient? I’m assuming it’s not him.” He jutted his chin in Drake’s direction.
“You assume correctly,” Laurence said, surprising Gaston with a hearty chuckle. The man was unflappable. “Down the hall and to the right. I’ll need you to stay with this one, though, when we leave, until someone arrives.” The doctor nodded and left the room, and Laurence turned his attention back to Gaston. “Here.”
Gaston took the glass and drank the tonic, heaving a few times, glad there was nothing left to throw up.
“It will take a while to ease. I have laudanum if it becomes unbearable.”
“No. No laudanum. We need to go.”
“We do. But let’s give you a few minutes and wait for the doctor to return to sit with our friend. Close your eyes. It will work faster.”
Gaston rested his head back. This time, Sophie danced and smiled at him invitingly. He promised her he was coming. Her colors faded into darkness as he whispered words of love.
Chapter Fifty-Six
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear: your true-love’s coming.
—Shakespeare,Twelfth Night
Early-evening shadows werecreeping in again, and although the carriage windows remained shuttered, Sophia was sure they must be approaching her estate. They had stayed at the inn only a few hours before the duke had dragged her out of bed in the middle of the night and they’d begun their journey again.
She had tried several times to probe the duke for answers but to no avail. He was not antagonistic, more sullen and uninterested in conversation. The day had been endless, with imaginings of Gaston lying bleeding to death making it truly unbearable.
The duke pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes, glazed and ringed in red. She doubted he’d slept at all. She had tried to stay awake but, in the end, had drifted off for a short while. He caught her gaze and tilted his head, and she could see the duke again in his eyes.
“I watched you sleep last night.”
Sophia’s stomach turned at the idea of him staring at her while she slept, but she did not show her distaste. Perhaps while he seemed to be in his right mind, she could reason with him.
“Your Grace—”
“I have changed my mind,” he said, cutting her off and leaning forward. She suppressed a flinch as his hand touched her chin, and he tilted his head one way, then the other. “Yes, a most worthy prize. Despite your betrayal, I will marry you anyway.”
“But you cannot. I am already married.”
He laughed as though she had said something terribly amusing.
“Oh, but my darling Countess, I have been watching everything you do. You may pretend you are married, but you are not. No banns. No ceremony. Nothing. No, I am decided. I want it all.” He sat back in his seat. “Don’t worry, I still must leave.” He scanned her slowly from head to toe, and a shiver of distaste shimmied across her flesh. “After I claim my reward. Of course, once we lie together, you may want more. I’ll consider allowing you to accompany me.”
“I will never agree to it.” Fear and anger brewed inside her, and she knew better than to antagonize him yet could not seem to help herself.
“I’m convinced you will,” he said, brushing at his sleeves as though he was making idle conversation. “Your Frenchman’s life is in my hands. I need only send word…”
“Gaston will kill you,” she said through gritted teeth.
He laughed uproariously, far too long and dramatically, wiping at his eyes. The carriage slowed, veering to the right. The duke sobered instantly. “Of course, the point is moot if there is no buried box. I could not trust a woman who so misled me. And I could not allow you the opportunity to tell others about our little escapade, now could I?”
Sophia rubbed her arms, chilled despite the stuffy carriage. She hoped Stefano was on full alert, because she could not deal with this madman alone. Unfortunately, Stefano would recognize the carriage and would merely think it slightly odd the duke would come calling while she was in London. She would have only seconds to warn him. It was not long before the carriage pulled to a stop. She held her breath, waiting to hear Stefano’s voice, debating how she could assist him, hoping he would make enough of a distraction for her to do something.
The carriage rattled as the coachman disembarked, and Sophia heard muffled voices. “Stefano!” she shouted. The duke flew across the short space, covering her mouth so forcefully her tooth pierced her bottom lip. He flattened her against the bench before she could get out a warning. She did not struggle. It was pointless. She could hear nothing more than his heavy breathing and her own heart beating in her ears. They both turned when the door opened.
“Your Grace,” his coachman said as though the sight of the duke splayed on a lady was a common occurrence.
The duke straightened, smiling, offering her his hand. She slapped it away, and he raised an imperial eyebrow before sidling out of the carriage. Sophia sat up, swiping at her lips, wiping away the blood and the taste of his flesh.
“Come, my darling,” the duke cooed from outside.
