by Em Taylor
“Benson,” Jason growled.
“What does he gain from telling people we are dead?” asked Sophia.
“Mayhap he thinks he killed you.”
“Surely he would wait to find out. A bullet would not necessarily kill us and they went by us so fast just shooting randomly.”
“I think they were reasonable shots, my love. They got me, Maggie and the horses.”
“But why would they think us dead?”
“They would assume those of us not killed by the bullets would perish in the snow. Come Sophia, you showed great character in marching through that snow, baby in your arms while I carried Maggie while injured. It was quite a distance. And you know Oscar was quite still by the time we go to the inn.”
“Yes. He was. I was terribly concerned about him. As I was about you and Maggie. But you and she were in the doctor’s care. Thankfully he did start to come around as he warmed up.”
“Well, I think Mr Benson has presumed neither you nor I have had as much courage as we do.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Well, I think we must head to London after all. I would have preferred not to in this weather, but it is for the best. Are you able to make the journey just now, my love?”
“Yes. I just would have preferred to stay here but I shall be fine. I shall have to start feeding Oscar again.”
“I shall go and speak to Linda Green. She has no family. She may be willing to come with us.”
“Fine. What if I have to run away again?”
“My love, you are under my protection. I shall be properly prepared this time. You shall be running nowhere.”
“Of course.” She bit her lip and Jason’s mother spoke up.
“Lady Rutherford… I mean, Sophia. I can tell my son loves you. He protects those he loves with a ferocity that knows no bounds. You are perfectly safe with him, especially against a man who does not even have the decency to slow his coach to check that you are properly dead before announcing your death to the ton. Mr Benson is obviously a coward of the worst order.”
“I agree,” Jason, said. “About me loving you and about Benson being a coward. I would send a letter to your brother to tell him you are safe, but I think it best that we surprise everyone, including Benson, when we arrive back in Town.”
“That sounds sensible, though it pains me to think of Gideon mourning me.”
“It shall not be for long and then we can tell the whole world that we are alive and everyone shall know that Mr Benson is a scoundrel and a cad.”
“Indeed.”
“We must prepare to leave at first light tomorrow. We shall take extra staff and some weapons, just in case.”
“Fine. I shall leave you to discuss your arrangement,” his mother said. “And please, both of you, take care.”
“We will travel with the utmost care, Mama. I promise.”
“That is all I can ask.”
∞ ∞ ∞
As the ladies sat drinking tea after dinner that night and Jason had gone up to see his father, decanter of port in hand, Sophia looked at the Countess and grimaced.
“I do apologise for the danger in which I have placed your son. I am not sure I would be overly pleased if someone had placed my son in danger, even if he were a grown man.”
The Countess sighed and placed her embroidery to the side. Sophia could not help but admire the needlework. It was a depiction of a biblical scene. A dove was sitting on a branch with Noah’s Ark in the background. The dove that did not come back after the floods had receded.
“Jason loves you. I can see that. He also loves your son. I went to the nursery yesterday while you were abed and Jason was there playing with him. The child seems to adore him. Since he became a youth and lost that desire to please people, he has lost that softness in his gaze. It has returned since he entered this house with you on his arm. He is no longer an indolent, spoiled aristocrat. He wishes to be a husband and father. He is ready to be a husband and father. I judged you harshly because you were no wide-eyed innocent, but that was unfair. You are a true lady.”
“I should never have spoken to you the way I did when you mentioned Jason’s door banging. I should have accepted the chastisement with grace.”
“You deserved no chastisement. And you are correct. I have no right to judge others. My husband is still alive and I seek solace in the arms of the estate steward.”
“Lord Ashgate is very sweet but he does not have the capacity to be a husband. I do not just mean in the bed chamber, Lady Ashgate. My late husband… he could not perform well in that area. Luckily for him, a baby happened one of the few times our coupling was successful, but I still had a nice marriage. Lord Rutherford was a good and interesting companion. I believe I shall be much happier with Jason because I love him and have chosen him, but Lord Ashgate cannot even give you the companionship that I had with Lord Rutherford. I know Jason does not judge you for your dalliance with the steward. Neither do I. I hope, if they know, your other children do not. It would be terribly unfair.”
“You are very kind considering I was quite unwelcoming.”
“I was responsible for your baby being shot. Even if he is in his late twenties. I believe Oscar will always be my baby.”
“He will, my dear, but one day a lovely young woman shall come along and you shall realise that she loves him just as much as you do and you shall have no qualms in watching him marry her. Please do one thing for me?”
“Anything, my lady.”
“Apart from calling me ‘mama,’ please bring him back occasionally. I do not think his father is long for this world and he will take over the estate when that happens. He should be prepared for it.”
“Why do you not allow him to help you now?”
“We do not have a Regency in this Earldom. I may be running things in my husband’s stead but only the stead, my children and the staff know this. Everyone else thinks he is just reclusive. While no one would question Jason’s right to succeed his father, I would prefer to keep my husband’s illness private. We would have to go through the court of Chancery to appoint Jason as the trustee. And that would then mean that everyone would know that John is incapacitated.”
“I understand. That said, could Jason not help you run the estate, but you still pretend that the Earl is running it? I believe he feels rather helpless and would like to be of more use.”
“What has he said?”
“Very little. But he looked quite sad when he spoke of not being able to help.”
“I really do not know what to do for the best.”
“You could talk to him.”
“I do wish you would stop talking sense, my girl. It is putting me to shame. I shall wait until you both return from Town. I would hate to distract him from protecting you and that baby.” She sighed. “I wish John were well. We could have kept the baby here and protected him, then you could have travelled to Town and confronted that ruffian.”
“I am not sure I could bear to be parted from him.”
Lady Ashgate laughed. “Just wait until his first term at Eton. You will be beside yourself. And Jason will spend his time telling you he shall be fine and it shall be the making of him. Of course he shall be fine. They all miss their mamas, but they bond in their attempt to prove to one another that they are not homesick.”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “I do hope to give Jason a son and then only girls. They are so much easier.”
“You say that, but they are easier until they start to want to be young ladies and want to attend balls and soirees and meet eligible gentlemen to sweep them off their feet.”
“I had no such silly notions. My father had already planned for me to marry Lord Rutherford the year of my come-out. I just did my duty.”
“Oh Sophia. That is unfortunate. And now you still do not get your pick of the gentlemen. You have already affianced yourself to Jason.”
“Jason is the pick of the gentlemen, my lady. I could not be happier. Or at least,
I shall be happy once we have dealt with Mr Benson.”
“I shall raise my cup and saucer to dealing with that scoundrel.”
Chapter 17
The roads had cleared somewhat since they had made their very slow and dangerous journey from the inn to Ashgate estate. With two carriages, a couple of outriders -which Sophia had initially protested-and some extra burly footmen atop the carriages, all armed and ready to shoot anyone who wished ill on the young Viscount Rutherford, they were making good progress towards London. On their fourth night travelling, the carriages pulled into a large inn. It was well known for being an inn with higher prices where the aristocracy would stay.
Jason handed Sophia down. In this inn, he would organise separate rooms for them. The chances of her being recognised were high and he would not have people gossiping about her, even if they were going to wed as soon as they got to London. Of course, he organised a room for himself but would not sleep in it. Instead he would stand guard in Sophia’s room, pistol in hand. He slept in the coach during the day as the footmen protected her.
Another large coach had just preceded them into the courtyard, coming from the opposite direction. The ostlers were busy.
“Jason, that coach.”
“What about it?”
“It’s Gideon’s coach. That’s the Beattie coat of arms.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes.”
She broke free of his arm and hitched up her skirts, running into the inn, grabbing the door just as it closed. Jason took a moment before he reacted and hurried after her. She could not run into an inn on her own even if she thought her brother was on the other side of the door.
“Jackson, watch Oscar.”
“Aye, milord.”
“Good God, Sophia,” he said, grabbing her around the waist as he barrelled into her just inside the door. “Have you learned nothing of caution these last days?”
“Gideon,” she gasped.
“Soph! You are supposed to be dead.”
“Well, I am not. Who told you I am dead?”
“Mr Benson.”
“And how exactly would he know or think that I am dead?”
“He said he was driving by your carriage in his own carriage and saw vagabonds take shots at you.”
“And he did not stop to check if we survived?”
“He said he did. He said you were dead.”
“He did not think to bring our bodies back for you to hold a funeral for us?”
“I did not ask.”
“Gideon, it happened less than ten miles from Lord Rose-Reid’s family seat. You do not think a gentleman would have the decency to take the son of a peer of the realm and his companion to his home, rather than leave him to rot on the side of the road? In fact, he should have brought Oscar at the very least, in order to prove he is now the successor of the title that he so covets.”
“Where is Oscar?”
Sophia turned to Jason. “Where…?”
“Jackson and Linda are bringing him in.”
She seemed to release the breath she was holding, then turned back to her brother.
“It looks as if your mourning and Mr Benson’s celebrations are a little premature, my lord.”
“Ah come, Sophia. Please do not be vexed at me. I…”
“Oh that is so much better.” Jason looked up to see a pretty woman with large eyes, dark hair and an impish smile. He knew her. Lady Emily as was. Now Lady Beattie. “Honestly, Gideon, I cannot wait until this is over and I can stop going to the necessary every five minutes.”
“My love, you are doing it again,” said Lord Beattie indulgently as he pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. Lady Beattie blushed.
“I am sorry I…. SOPHIA!” Lady Beattie threw herself into the arms of her friend and Sophia almost fell over. Jason managed to catch them both and steady them, Sophia’s pert backside rubbing against his loins. Damn it all to hell. “You are alive.”
“Yes I am. Be careful Emily. You shall hurt the baby.”
“Oh I hugged you this tight when you were expecting Oscar and he seems fine.” Sophia chuckled at Emily’s words. Emily looked up then and her eyes narrowed as she pulled out of her friend’s hug. “Rosie, I see you are still alive too.”
“Do not sound so upset, my lady.”
“Rosie?” Sophia looked from one to the other.
“He was so mean to me when we were younger. Calling him a girl’s name was the only way I could pay him back.”
Jason ran his hand through his hair and pursed his lips.
“Lady Beattie, I was a callow youth back then. I apologise for being a brute and a cad to you. But you kept following me and Whitsnow around and then you would get yourself into trouble and we would have to waste our time rescuing you. You were a bit of a pest. I never meant to hurt your feelings but Whitsnow tells me that your feelings have been very hurt over the years. For my part in that, I should like to apologise.”
“Oh.” Lady Beattie inched closer to her husband as if his nearness might help her know how to react to Jason’s apology. Jason decided it best to behave as if nothing had happened.
“Have you booked yourself in, Beattie?”
“Not yet.”
“Should we all have dinner together in a private parlour, then we can tell you all that has happened?”
“Given how close you are holding my sister, I think that wise.”
Jason considered releasing his grip on Sophia, but considering the effect she was having on the contents of his breeches, he decided it was wise that she continue to be his shield in this moment.
“I am to marry Jason when we arrive in London.”
“You have not asked my permission.”
“I do not need your permission. I am a widow and able to make my own decisions.”
“If it was Emily, I would hope a male relative would step in and make sure a man was worthy of you,” Beattie said belligerently.
“I would not have Robert choosing my husband. Do you recall he wanted to put a lead ball through your brains?”
“I am not sure it would have been my brains for which he would have aimed that night, my love,” Beattie chuckled. Emily’s eyes widened as she realised what Beattie meant.
“You are such a brute.”
“That is why you shall love me to your dying day.”
“Or yours.”
“You are such a cheerful wife.” Beattie said as Emily giggled. “Let us book rooms and beds. Two rooms for you, Rosie?”
“No. One will suffice. I shall not be sleeping.” Beattie turned, his face turning almost purple. “I shall be awake while Sophia and Oscar sleep. If Oscar wakes, I shall call the wet nurse. I shall have a pistol in my hand at all times to protect them. I have done this every night since we have been travelling. We cannot afford to let our guard down.”
“When do you sleep?”
“In the carriage.”
“With my sister?”
“She has enough loyal servants guarding her.”
“I am thinking more of the impropriety.”
“Gideon, I am a widow. I can do what I like. Stop being an old woman. If I wish to tumble Jason in the carriage, I shall.”
“Sophia, you sound just like me,” put in Emily.
“Ahem, may I help you, milord.”
Gideon glowered at his sister and turned to talk to the innkeeper. “Three rooms please. How many staff are you travelling with, Reid?”
“Two female, six male. And we need a cradle in one of the rooms.”
“Aye. So we need room for twelve staff.” Beattie pulled out his coin purse.
“I can pay for my own…” Jason started, but Beattie waved him away.
“You can pay tomorrow. It looks as if we are headed back to Town. We need to decide what to do about Mr Benson.” It was then Beattie appeared to notice his nephew in the arms of the wet nurse behind Sophia. His stony visage broke into a smile.
“Is that my favourite boy behind his mama? Can
Uncle Gideon hold him for a moment?”
“Of course.” Sophia plucked the baby out of the arms of Linda and placed him into his uncle’s arms. Gideon’s gaze raked up and down the infant, as if satisfying himself the child was unharmed then he scowled at his sister.
“You are a ninny for running off like that, Soph. Anything could have happened.” A hand on his arm stopped his brewing tirade.
“Gideon, my love, you shall upset Oscar. I am sure Sophia is well aware of the danger she put herself and Oscar in. Please do not make her feel worse. She does not need to be scolded like a child. You sound like Robert.”
Beattie looked at his wife and pursed his lips. “You are, of course, correct, my love. Damn it, Sophia, I thought I had lost you. It is so good to see you. And you Lord Rutherford, though you smell like you need to be changed. Good God, Sophia, he stinks.”
Sophia sighed. “You are a terrible uncle. You shall give him a complex. How will you cope when your own child comes along?”
“I shall give him to the wet nurse.”
“It is just as well for you then that you were born of noble birth. You would have been useless if you had been forced to look after your own child.”
“Milady, I can take Oscar upstairs and change him. Your room is ready.”
“Oh would you, Linda? Thank you.”
“Of course, milady.”
The wet nurse took the baby from her uncle and headed for the staircase.
“And how does Reid deal with a baby?”
Sophia arched an eyebrow and rubbed that delicious backside even closer to Jason’s growing hardness. She seemed to think she was protecting him. She was just making him more aroused.
“He can change Oscar’s clout… in a manner of speaking.”
“What is a clout?”
Sophia, who had turned her face towards Jason to give him a beatific grin of triumph, rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her brother.
“The covering on his bottom. You are aware he is incapable of knowing when he needs to go to the necessary. Are you not?”
“Of course.”