by Debra Glass
As awareness seeped back, he realized warm fingers were entwined with his. He shifted and noticed the dark head on the bed beside him. Sophia? He brushed his palm over her hair and immediately, she lifted her head.
Her eyes widened dramatically and a slow smile claimed her lips. “Jack,” she whispered, pressing her palm to his forehead. “Your fever has broken.”
Even in the dim light, he could see the awful bruise on her cheek. “What did he do to you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
She cast her gaze down. “It doesn’t matter. He’s dead now.”
Jack’s heart lurched. “I wasn’t there for you. I’m so, so sorry, Sophia.”
She shook her head. “What happened was my fault. If only you hadn’t left your pistol. If only I’d…If only I’d married him…”
“Don’t you ever say that again,” he warned. “Do you hear me, Sophia? Don’t you ever utter those words again.”
“But you nearly died…because…because of me.” A tear coursed down her face, eerily highlighting the purplish bruise. Jack resisted the compulsion to brush it away, fearing touching her would hurt her.
“I would die for you,” he said, feeling a surge of something unexplainable cresting inside him.
She moved over him and softly pressed her lips to his. When her hand cupped his jaw so she could deepen the kiss ever so slightly, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
Ignoring the dull aching in his chest, he held her as tightly as he could to kiss her thoroughly. Her tongue teased his lips tentatively and when he opened his mouth to her, she moaned and took her sweet fill of him. At that moment, he realized he could never marry Lady Hilda—not when he was hopelessly in love with Sophia.
His responsibility to his father’s wishes and title no longer mattered. If Lady Hilda brought a breach of promise suit against him, he would gladly hand over everything he owned.
But he would do anything, say anything—give up everything—to spend the rest of his life with Sophia by his side.
“Lord Stafford!”
Sophia quickly drew away at the sound of the physician’s voice. Her heart skittered with joy and love. Still dazed from his kiss, she stumbled when hands gripped her shoulders and swept her away so the physician could examine Jack.
“Someone awaken the countess,” another voice said.
And then Hobbes’ sleepy face loomed into Sophia’s view. “My Lady, you should step out.”
She stared, trying to tell herself it was all right, that Hobbes was correct. Obviously, Jack still intended to keep her as his mistress. He wouldn’t have kissed her so sweetly if he hadn’t. And yet…
The thought of having to leave his side because the woman who would be his wife had to be awakened and brought here broke Sophia’s heart. After all, she was the one for whom he had asked. She was the one who had kept vigil for a day and a night.
Hurt and dejected, she reluctantly allowed Hobbes to walk her back to her room.
“I’ll have some food brought up,” Hobbes said.
“No, thank you,” Sophia said, hugging her arms to herself. She couldn’t possibly eat now, not when her heart had been ripped out and dashed to the floor to be trampled.
Instead, she shucked her dressing gown and crawled into her cold bed, staring at the window as the light of dawn grew brighter and brighter. Knowing Jack had emerged from the claws of death filled her with tremendous joy but her happiness was bittersweet because right now, the woman who would bear his children—his legitimate children—a woman he didn’t even know, was by his side.
Long, torturous hours passed as Sophia lay, staring, refusing to think, refusing to feel. What on earth had she agreed to?
But inwardly, she knew the moment she got word that Jack wanted to see to her, she would fly to him with open arms. It wasn’t because she accepted second place in his life, she would go because she loved him that much.
The sounds of horses, carriage wheels and men barking orders drifted through the thick leaded glass window panes. Had someone arrived?
Sophia pushed back the covers and padded barefoot across the room. Drawing back the lace panel, she peered out the window, watching, stunned, as the countess stepped into her grand coach. As soon as she was inside, the coachman kissed to the horses and the royal procession of horses, carriages and footman were off.
“Why would she leave?” Sophia muttered out loud. And then realization struck. Her blood drained, pooling in her shaking legs. Her fingers flew involuntarily to her lips. Her breath froze.
Jack was dead.
There was no other explanation.
She whirled, searching frantically for her dressing gown. No. No! This couldn’t be. She hadn’t got the chance to tell him goodbye. She hadn’t got to tell him that she loved him.
Hands shaking violently, she shrugged on the thick garment. Just then, a tap came on her door and it opened. The servant girl who’d been with her when she’d awakened the previous day stood there. She bobbed a curtsy. “Come with me, please, My Lady. Your presence is needed in his lordship’s chamber.”
Immobilized, Sophia gaped. “Is he—” She stopped short, unable to utter the word that hung on her lips.
“I’m only told to bring you to his chamber, ma’am.”
Biting her bottom lip to keep from sobbing, Sophia followed the maid down the hallway. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest. Heavy. Hard. Jack was dead. She knew it. Why else would the countess and her entire entourage have gone away?
The servant stopped at the door. “You may go in.”
Sophia searched the girl’s eyes for some inkling of grief but there was none. She gulped as the girl opened the door to admit her. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she stepped inside fully expecting to find Jack lying in state.
Instead, he sat in the bed, resting against a thick bank of pillows. A wide smile claimed his lips when he saw her. Sophia squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again to be certain she wasn’t imagining it all. “Jack? I thought—”
“Darling,” he called, waving her to come to him.
Thankfully, no one else was in the room. “I thought you were—”
“Come here!” he called, laughing.
He was alive! And he was smiling and laughing. After the fact saturated her, she darted across the vast chamber and climbed onto the edge of the bed. “I thought you had died,” she said, tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks.
“Died? Heavens, no,” he said. “I’m much better. In fact, I’m very well now that you are here.”
He cupped her face and lightly brushed the pad of his thumb over the bruise.
“But I saw the countess leaving and—” she began.
“Ah,” he interjected. “Yes. She’s gone.”
“Gone?” Sophia asked. “I don’t understand. She left? Because of me?”
Jack nodded. “Yes.”
Sophia hung her head. “I’m sorry.”
He tilted her chin up so that she looked into his eyes. “Sorry? I thought you’d be happy.”
“I would never do anything to jeopardize your future,” she said.
He laughed heartily. “Sophia, you silly minx. I asked her to leave. I cried off.”
Sophia stared, disbelieving.
“I told her I couldn’t marry her,” he continued.
“But—”
“How could I have possibly married her…when I am so utterly in love with you?”
Sophia’s lips parted. She wanted to pinch herself to make certain she was not dreaming. He loved her?
“As it turns out, she is in love with some Russian nobleman. She was thrilled to break the engagement,” Jack explained.
Speechless, Sophia searched his eyes. She could hardly believe it. Too much had happened for her to absorb it all.
One side of Jack’s mouth twisted into a lopsided winsome smile. “Darling, will you marry me?”
Marry him? Marry Jack? Sophia smiled as she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she�
��d been holding.
Everything she had ever hoped for, everything she had ever wanted, hovered within her reach. Everything. But rather than answering him with words, she fell into his embrace and responded with a kiss that would leave Jack Badcock, Earl of Stafford, without a doubt that her answer was yes.
Epilogue
The cloud of scandal had completely dissipated by the time Sophia and Jack married. As it turned out, everyone in society had regarded Lord Wisbech as a brute and no one was surprised that he’d tried to murder Jack.
While Sophia’s parents, looking to avoid public scandal, came to the wedding, Sophia had relatively little to do with them beforehand. Her mother had tearfully begged her forgiveness and Sophia had happily given it to her.
But while Sophia’s parents and most of the haut ton had been in attendance to witness the marriage between the two lovebirds, one person had been conspicuously absent—Lady Huntingdon.
Sophia hadn’t been shocked to hear the gossip from her friends, Misses Pettigrew and Markham. Apparently Lord Huntingdon had discovered Lady Huntingdon engaged in a compromising position with the gardener and, weary of her exploits, had sent her to spend the rest of her days in a convent.
The two young women didn’t know enough to relate all the details, but Jack had learned through friends that the gardener had given Lady Huntingdon the dreaded pox. Sophia found it difficult to feel sorry for the woman, knowing the part she played in the horrible events that nearly cost Jack his life.
Their wedding had been the high society event last fall and even though she and Jack regularly enjoyed each other’s company, they had not returned to the hunting lodge together since the mishap.
Today, that would change. History would be laid to rest with only the good memories remaining.
Sophia smiled to herself as she sat atop the mare that had been sired by Armageddon before the horse’s tragic death. This horse, named Storm, was just as beautiful, if not a smarter horse, than Armageddon and Sophia had been thrilled when Jack had presented her with the stunning black mare.
Although Hobbes, some of the staff and the coachman knew, Jack had no idea what Sophia had in store for him.
Spring thunder rumbled in the distance and she glanced back at the darkening sky, hoping the carriage would come along soon. Finally, she heard the rumble of wheels accompanied by the pounding of hooves on the road. The Stafford coach rolled into view.
Grinning, Sophia checked to make sure her domino mask was in place before she adjusted her feathered cock hat and drew her pistol. Spurring Storm, she rode full out toward Jack’s coach, rearing to a dramatic halt just beside the passenger door as the carriage ground to a halt. “Stand and deliver!”
Jack’s hearty laugh pealed in her ears as he stepped out of the coach.
About the Author
Growing up in the south, where the air is thick with stories steeped in legend and truth, Debra came by her love of romance novels honestly. Well…sort of. At an early age, she pilfered from her grandmother’s extensive library and has been a fan of the genre since.
A full-time freelance writer, Debra especially enjoys combining history, mystery and a touch of taboo to weave stories with unforgettable, haunted heroes.
She lives in Alabama with her sexy real life hero, a couple of smart-aleck ghosts and a diabolical black cat.
Debra welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Debra Glass
Bad Kitty
Bought and Paid For
Death by Chocolate
Ellora’s Cavemen: Flavors of Ecstasy I anthology
Having Patience
Lucid
Phantom Lovers 1: Gatekeeper
Phantom Lovers 2: Shadowkeeper
Phantom Lovers 3: Watchkeeper
Restraint
Spirit Lifter
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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