“Mr. Preston is here,” Lucy said. “He is waiting for you in the parlor.”
Sophia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Already?” she stammered.
“I find a little cool cucumber will do wonders for puffy eyes.” Lucy stepped around her. She held Sophia’s chin in her hand, and appraised her face. “Why don’t you lie back on your bed, and I will return in a moment. I’ll make an excuse with the young gentleman that you will be down shortly.”
Fresh tears welled up in Sophia’s eyes. “Thank you, Lucy,” she whispered, and threw her arms around her maid’s neck. Lucy patted her back, then peeled her arms away.
“Your father seems upset, too,” she said sternly. “I don’t know why he allows that . . . that westerner to remain here. I don’t know what his business is with your father, but it can’t be good.” She shook her head and headed for the door. Before she left, she glanced over her shoulder. “Hold a wet cloth to your eyes until I return.”
Sophia reached for her washcloth, then sat on the edge of her bed. Holding the damp cloth over her eyes, she eased back onto the mattress. No, Joseph Walker’s presence here definitely wasn’t good, and the sooner he left, the better.
Chapter Four
Sophia fidgeted with her hands in her lap, and stared straight ahead. A slight breeze caressed her face, and she squinted at the brightness of the mid-day sun. The rhythmic two-beat clopping of the horse’s hooves as Andrew guided the Concord buggy down the country lane was a welcome distraction to her tumultuous morning. The sweet smell of fresh grass and blooming June flowers in the fields they passed added to her contentment.
Andrew had waited patiently in the parlor while Lucy applied cucumber slices to Sophia’s eyes, and by the time she left her room and met her fiancé in the parlor, her crying spell was hardly noticeable. A couple of dabs with some facial powder, and Lucy had promised her that no one would notice. She’d been right. Andrew had greeted her with a wide smile, and offered his arm as he led her out the door.
They’d left Boston behind some twenty minutes ago, and other than commenting on the weather or gossip about noteworthy people, not much had been said between them. Sophia ventured a shy glance at Andrew, and caught him watching her. His mustache twitched and his eyes studied her. Sophia swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Andrew guided the horse off the road and toward a large, shady Elm tree, pulling the animal to a halt.
“This looks like a nice place for a picnic. What do you think?” he asked, and jumped from the seat. Walking around to her side, he held up his arms. Sophia accepted his assistance, and allowed him to lift her from the carriage. He didn’t let go of her waist after her feet touched the ground. Wide-eyed with sudden apprehension, she stared up into his face.
“I never realized how pretty you really are, Sophia,” he said, his eyes roaming her face. His hands at her waist inched upward, and he leaned forward.
Sophia held her breath. She wished she could back up a step, but she was pressed up against the buggy already.
“If you’ll get the basket, we can set up the picnic under the tree over there,” she suggested, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Her mouth had gone completely dry. Instead of letting go, he pulled her closer. His head lowered to hers, and a quiet shudder of dread passed through her. Andrew was going to kiss her.
Sophia’s hands braced against his chest. She turned her head to the side and tried to lean back. His lips grazed her cheek. “Andrew, I don’t think we should—”
His grip at her waist tightened. “Come on, Sophia. We’re getting married. What’s wrong with a little kissing?”
Andrew’s hand reached up and held her chin, forcing her to look straight at him. He brought his mouth down on hers, holding her head in a firm grip. Panic raced through her. She pushed harder with her hands, but the more she struggled, the tighter his hold became. He grabbed her hair, pulling back until she had no choice but to tilt her head. Pressing her back painfully against the buggy, Andrew continued his assault on her mouth.
Sophia struggled for a breath. What was wrong with her? Why wasn’t she enjoying this? She’d always heard how pleasurable it was to be kissed by a man. If she stopped her squirming, perhaps he’d release his tight hold on her and it would become easier.
Andrew forced his tongue between her lips, and at the same time he groped the front of her dress, squeezing her breast.
Her muffled cries drowned in her throat. Something jabbed painfully at her lower back. No matter how hard she tried to push against him, Andrew refused to let go or back away. He fumbled with the buttons at the front of her dress, and continued to grope her breast.
He finally broke the kiss, only to run his mouth along her cheek and down her neck.
Sophia sucked in her first full breath of air since his assault began. “Andrew, please stop,” she gasped. “You’re hurting me.”
“I know it’s what you want,” he panted against her ear. “Stop fighting and just enjoy it.”
“Andrew,” she pleaded again, panic rising in her voice. Her heart raced with renewed fear. This was anything but enjoyable.
Without warning, Andrew released her. Someone ripped him away from her. With his body gone for support, she sank to the ground, grasping at her open dress. She blinked away the tears that welled up in her eyes, and scrambled to her feet. A loud smacking sound followed by a thud reached her ears.
Sophia’s head shot up to see Andrew sprawled out in the grass. Looming over him was a man dressed in worn buckskin breeches and blue cotton shirt. Her heart skipped a beat. What was Joseph Walker doing here? Had he followed her?
Joseph bent forward, and grabbed Andrew by the shirt. With little effort, he hauled Andrew to his feet. A split second later, his fist connected with Andrew’s jaw, sending him to the ground again. Blood spewed from her fiancé’s nose, and he scrambled to back away from Joseph, who advanced on him again.
“Stop it!” Sophia called frantically. She rushed away from the side of the buggy. “You’re killing him.” There was so much blood!
Joseph’s head turned toward her, his long hair whipping around his neck. The fierce, murderous look on his face stopped her in her tracks. She clutched her opened bodice tighter to her chest.
Joseph’s attention returned to the man on the ground, and he hauled him to his feet again. Blood ran freely from Andrew’s nose and the split in his lip. Grabbing the front of his shirt in his fists, Joseph almost lifted him completely off the ground.
“Didn’t your pa ever teach you how to treat a lady properly?” he snarled, his face inches from Andrew’s. Then he pushed him away, and Andrew nearly lost his balance. “If you ever lay a hand on her again, I will kill you.”
Joseph advanced on him, and Andrew bolted for the buggy. He scrambled onto the seat and slapped the reins against the horse’s back. The rig lurched forward.
“Andrew, wait,” Sophia called, and tried to run after him. He didn’t even look her way, and snapped the buggy whip over the horse’s head. “Andrew!”
Sophia stopped running when she reached the gravel road. He wasn’t going to wait for her. He was fleeing for his life. That savage man would have killed him. Slowly, she turned. Her pulse quickened. She was all alone, miles from town. What would Joseph Walker do to her? She had to get away from him, but she knew she’d never outrun him.
He stood by his horse, watching her. Sophia’s lips trembled, and she held her clammy palms to her pounding chest. Her heart skipped a beat when he moved toward her. The urge to run overtook her mind, but she stood rooted to the spot. Her legs wouldn’t move.
“Are you all right?” he asked, stopping just in front of her. Wide-eyed, Sophia stared up at him. He no longer looked vicious. His utterly handsome features had softened considerably, and a concerned look passed over his eyes. His gaze rested on her face, his brows wrinkled slightly. “Sophie?” His hand reached out, his fingers grazing her arm.
Sophia sucked in a deep breath. He’d barely touched her, yet the j
olt in her arm, making her skin tingle, was immediate. She stepped back, out of his reach, and tore her eyes away from him.
“Don’t touch me,” she produced between trembling lips.
“Did he hurt you?” Joseph asked, his voice deeper than she remembered. Sophia’s head snapped up, and sudden anger welled up inside her.
“You nearly killed Andrew,” she screeched.
Joseph’s eyes narrowed. “I gave that bastard what he deserved.”
“He didn’t deserve to be beaten,” Sophia argued, her voice rising.
Joseph took a step toward her, and her eyes widened. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you enjoyed being manhandled like some common saloon whore? Do you have any idea what he would have done to you?”
Sophia gasped at his outrageous words. “How dare you,” she stammered. “Andrew is my fiancé. He would never—”
“Let me tell you something, Princess.” Joseph cut her off, and took another step closer. Sophia inhaled the scent of leather and horse, and her pulse quickened. “Where I come from, a decent man doesn’t do things to a woman if she objects to it. And from what I saw, you were objecting.”
Sophia’s mind raced for something to say. Andrew had gotten carried away, no doubt. But he wouldn’t have forced himself on her like Joseph was insinuating. Andrew had always been a gentleman. It only meant that he loved her, and couldn’t wait to be married. A fleeting thought nagged at her. She hadn’t enjoyed Andrew’s advances. She hadn’t enjoyed his kiss from the night before. Would she be able to endure what was expected of her in the marriage bed?
“How about I give you a ride back to town, since your man decided to leave you stranded out here on the road. But first I think you should button up your dress before someone else comes along and gets the wrong idea about us.”
Joseph’s lips twitched, and there was no mistaking the sparkle in his eyes. He was enjoying her predicament. Sophia whirled around, and fumbled with the buttons on her dress. The nerve of him! It was his fault that Andrew had fled.
“I have to apologize to him,” she mumbled.
“Pardon me?” Joseph stepped to her side, and angled his face, his eyebrows scrunched in disbelief. “Apologize for what?”
“For your behavior, Mr. Walker,” she replied heatedly, and turned toward the road. She had to salvage this somehow. Her day couldn’t possibly get any worse. Because of Joseph Walker, she had learned that she wasn’t truly Byron Yancey’s daughter, and now he had hurt her fiancé. Before she had a chance to move away, Joseph caught her arm.
Sophia spun around, yanking free of his grip. “Why are you following me? Why are you so intent on ruining my life?” Her face flushed in anger, and she drew in a deep breath. The muscles along his jaw tightened.
“I’m not here to ruin your life,” he said. “I made a promise to your grandfather. I had no idea you didn’t know about your real parents.”
“I have a father who raised me and who loves me. I don’t need to know anything about them. I have my life here. I’m getting married to a prominent man in New York Society. I won’t allow you to jeopardize my future.”
Joseph’s jaw muscles clenched and unclenched with each word she spoke. He released her arm. “Well, if that’s what’s important to you, Princess, then by all means. I’ll take you back to that important man of yours, and you can grovel at his feet. I just hope your high society life is worth the price you’re paying.”
He turned and headed for his horse. Good. Maybe she was rid of him now. Sophia picked up her skirts and followed the gravel road that led back to Boston. Moments later, Joseph appeared by her side, leading his horse. Sophia gritted her teeth.
“My offer still stands. You can’t walk all the way back to town,” he said, moving in front of her. His horse effectively blocked her way.
“I’m not dressed for riding,” she said, refusing to look at him.
“You are now.” Without warning, his hands reached for her waist, and he lifted her onto his horse’s back. He swung up behind her before she could even object. “Keep those skirts tucked under your legs so you don’t spook my horse.”
She scrambled to hook her knee over the cumbersome saddle horn to simulate a side-saddle, and grabbed hold of a fistful of mane for fear of losing her balance. The nerve of that man!
Shivers ran down Sophia’s spine at his deep voice and warm breath next to her ear. He reached around her and picked up the reins. Unless she wanted to fall from the animal’s back, she had no choice but to sit still. Heat seeped through her clothes from behind. Joseph’s solid chest pressed up against her back, and his arm brushed along her waist. The same jolt she’d felt earlier, and this morning when he touched her, raced through her now. She bit her lower lip, and tried to keep her breathing even.
“I’ll take you to the edge of town. You can walk from there. I know your precious reputation is at stake if anyone sees you with the likes of me.” He sounded angry. For fear of provoking him further, Sophia remained quiet, trying to keep her back straight so it wouldn’t constantly brush up against his chest. By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, she feared her spine might snap in two.
****
Joseph had kept his word and let her off his horse just before they reached town. He hadn’t followed her, at least not that she was aware. She’d hailed a cab, and gave the driver directions to the Preston residence. If she acted quickly, she could ask for Andrew’s forgiveness today. He was leaving tomorrow, and she didn’t want to part ways with him without knowing he was all right.
When the driver pulled the buggy to a stop in front of the Preston’s Boston residence, she asked him to wait for her. She quickly made her way around the side of the house to the stables in the back. He would have had to drop his horse and buggy off before entering the house, and she hoped she could talk to him outside, rather than face the rest of the household, which would no doubt be full of questions.
Loud male voices reached her from inside the barn when she approached. The buggy was parked in front of the stable, and the horse had been unhitched. Glancing around, no one else seemed to be around. Sophia followed the sound of the men, and stopped just before entering the barn.
“How the hell should I know who that was,” Andrew’s loud and angry voice drifted from inside one of the stalls. “You know how Yancey loves to talk about the west. He looked like some backwoodsman you’d find there.”
“Keep that cloth over your nose to stop the bleeding.” Sophia recognized Andrew’s father’s voice. He didn’t sound at all pleased, as well he shouldn’t.
Guilt at eavesdropping rushed through her, and she wanted to round the corner into the barn aisle and make her presence known, when Andrew’s next words stopped her in her tracks.
“I don’t know why I agreed to your scheme to marry Sophia in the first place. For all I care, that woodsman can have her for his squaw.”
Sophia’s hand shot to her mouth to cover up her gasp. Tears blurred her vision.
“You’re marrying her because of your obligation to this family. We’ve been over this already. As her husband, you’ll be heir to Yancey Enterprises. Just think of the wealth and power that will bring.”
“Maybe I’m not as ambitious as you, Father.”
Lloyd Preston laughed. “You can still carouse with your women, son. No one is expecting you to bed that half-breed.”
Sophia’s knees went weak. She leaned against the barn wall, and sucked in a deep breath. On shaky legs, she stumbled up the path toward the street. The world spun dizzily around her, and her pulse throbbed in her ears. Thankfully she had asked the cab driver to wait for her.
“Take me to the Yancey residence.” Her voice cracked. The driver assisted her into the buggy, then climbed into the driver’s seat. Seconds later, the coach lurched forward. The tears streamed freely down her cheeks, and Sophia closed her eyes. Her chest tightened almost painfully. In a matter of one day, the world she thought she knew had collapsed around her.
&nb
sp; Joseph Walker’s face flashed before her eyes. Aren’t you curious about your real parents? Your grandfather wants to meet you.
Sophia inhaled deeply. Perhaps Boston or New York wasn’t where she was meant to be. Hadn’t she always felt like an outsider? Always trying to prove to everyone that she was just as good as anyone else? Maybe it was time to step outside the comfortable realm of her father’s – her adoptive father’s – protective world and find out where she truly belonged.
Chapter Five
Joseph clenched his hand around a piece of burlap he picked up off the barn floor. With vigorous circular strokes, he ran the rough material over his horse’s back and withers. The soft rhythmic crunching sounds as his gelding munched on some grain in the feed trough did little to ease the turmoil raging within him. He leaned against his horse and filled his lungs with the aroma of straw, hay, and horse sweat; smells which had always been a source of comfort for him. Not this time. Nothing compared to the sweet flowery scent of Raven’s hair and skin.
A wave of heat seared through his body, and his forehead beaded with perspiration. He swiped his hand across his face as if it would erase the memory of her soft body pressed so close to him while he guided his horse back toward Boston. Joseph cursed silently. He couldn’t remember ever having such a response to Feather in the Wind, and she was his . . . He shook his head. That was a long time ago, and a memory he didn’t need to dwell on. She’d made her choice, just as Raven had made hers.
Raven . . . Damn. He needed to start thinking of her as Sophia Yancey, because that’s who she was. She’d made it clear enough that she wanted nothing to do with the life she was born to; the kind of life she would have had if her parents were alive.
Joseph flexed his hand. His knuckles still stung from when he’d hit that bastard, Preston. He’d gone out for a ride earlier to clear his head to try and figure out a way to convince Yancey and Sophie that she should meet her grandfather. He’d almost passed by the buggy parked off the road, but the scene of a man taking liberties with a woman against her will had spurred him into action. His blood had nearly boiled over with rage when he recognized Sophie.
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