“No.” His voice came out a choked whisper. “No, you are right. That is how one treats a mistress…. God, that never occurred to me.”
Unsure of how else to respond to that admission, Sophie just nodded. “And I’d heard you’d made a vow. A pledge not to marry until the age of forty.”
“Forty,” Alex repeated, remembering that ridiculous ruse. “Bloody hell.” He stepped forward, taking her hands in his own. “I never intended to make you my mistress, Sophie. I am deeply sorry—”
“No, don’t apologize,” Sophie pleaded, hating to see him look so miserable. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’ve insulted you.”
“No, you haven’t,” she insisted. “The role of a duke’s mistress is a highly coveted position by many women.”
“You deserve better than that.”
“Why, because I was born a wealthy viscount’s daughter?” Sophie asked, shaking her head. “I am not a better woman—”
“Yes, you are.” Alex stated with quiet authority, capturing her chin with his fingers. “You’re better than all of them. You are the most amazing woman I know. I didn’t woo you in the traditional manner because I thought a different approach would prove more effective. I was under the impression that poorly written poetry would fail to impress you.”
“Oh. Well, it doesn’t impress me overmuch,” she said honestly. “But a tulip or two wouldn’t have gone amiss.”
Every girl liked getting flowers after all.
Alex smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future. Does this mean you’ll marry me?”
Sophie grimaced. “I’d like to, Alex.”
He dropped his hand. “But you won’t.”
“You need an heir,” she pointed out. “And I need to take care of my father.”
“Well that’s not so very difficult. We’ll send for your father first thing and look after him together. You shouldn’t bear the weight of that responsibility alone—”
“It won’t work, Alex. My father will never return to England. There are too many memories of my mother and sister here.”
“Then we’ll—”
A muffled thumping noise in the back of the house cut him off.
“Stay here,” he ordered, heading toward the parlor doors.
Sophie grabbed at his arm. “No. It’s one of the servants, or the driver back early. If you’re seen here, I’ll be ruined. You stay here and I’ll send them off to bed.”
Alex looked torn. “It could be an intruder.”
Sophie grabbed a nearby candlestick. “Then I’ll scream for you,” she promised in a hurried whisper. Then, realizing how little that seemed to console him, she bolted out of the room before he could stop her.
She hadn’t gone far before remembering the eerie sensation of being followed she had felt earlier. Cursing herself for a fool, she pulled one out one of her knives and immediately turned back. It was quite likely that the only intruder was a member of the staff, but under the circumstances, it seemed wise to take Alex along for further investigation.
It was one thing to be ruined, quite another to be injured or dead.
She made it past the study doors when she heard them swing open behind her. She felt a blinding pain radiate down the back of her head. And then she felt nothing at all.
Twenty-three
Sophie woke to find her hands tied behind her, her feet bound, her mouth gagged, her muscles aching, her head pounding, and the whole of her moving.
They were in the back of a wagon. She eyed the small beams of sunlight sneaking through spaces between the boards and guessed she had been unconscious for at least four hours, maybe more. If she could see the sun’s position, she’d know for certain, but there was some sort of tarp pulled tight over the top, allowing her just enough room to sit up.
Carefully wiggling her trussed form closer to the side of the wagon, she peered through the cracks between the wood and caught glimpses of passing countryside. They had brought her out of London. She sighed and closed her eyes, allowing her head to rest against the wood for a moment. She hadn’t the vaguest notion who “they” might be.
Next to her, Alex moaned softly.
Dear God, Alex! She’d gotten him into this. She didn’t know the identity of their kidnappers, but if the pain at the back of her head was any indication, they had few qualms about hurting their captives. Alex had been harmed because of her. He could be killed because of her. The thought set off a wave of fury and panic, prodding her to action.
She nudged Alex with her shoulder, leaned over and mumbled in his ear as loud as she dared, but he gave no further sign of waking.