Behind the Courtesan(41)

“You should get some rest,” Violet told her, her own eyelids drooping despite the effort to stay awake.

“You are the one who should rest. I should get back to town and let Matthew know he is the father of not one baby but two.”

“You can’t go back out into this storm. Even if you made the bridge, it would be treacherous.”

Sophie had forgotten about the bridge. Even if she wanted to get back, she couldn’t. There was only one other way back to Blakiston and she wouldn’t make it in the dark let alone the rain and flooding. “You’re right,” she sighed. “The bridge was washed away, so I guess it’s just the four of us tonight.”

“They know where you are anyway, so they won’t worry.”

“Uh, no they don’t.”

“What happened? Sophie, what were you doing on your way out here?”

She bit her lip. The woman had just given birth. How much could she burden her with? In the end, she decided everything. Violet had the right to know.

“Do you know much about Blake’s history?”

“I know a bit.”

“None of us really knew anything at all. His mother was married to the old duke.”

“So he is the rightful heir?”

Sophie nodded. “St. Ives came to make him a duke.”

“What did Blake say?”

“He refused. He is the most stubborn, fool-headed, idiot of a man. He could have made things so much better around here and instead he lied. Lied to everyone.”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“I don’t care what his reasons were. He made a decision to fool everyone so he didn’t have to take on the responsibility of the estate.”

“There had to be more to it than that. A man doesn’t do something for no reason, especially not a man like Blake.”

“Sometimes decisions made under duress have no reason, you choose the smoother of the paths at the fork in the road.”

“Is that what you did?” Violet asked in a small voice as she leaned back against the pillows once more.

Sophie sighed. It’s exactly what she did. At one turn there was her father and the duke and at the other, London. She’d had no idea what living in the city would entail. If she had, things might have been different. “I made the choice between the lesser of two evils. You all pity me my life, but between the hardest of hard lives or death at the hands of a vicious man, I would always take life.”

“But at the time, when you thought those were the only two choices, you neglected the third. I’m not sure if it was intentional or not, but why did you not ask Matthew or Blake for help?”

“It was too late. I never thought my father would actually go through with the deal.”

“What deal?”

She’d forgotten that Violet didn’t know as much as everyone else. For a second time, she poured her story out and hoped for empathy rather than disgust.

Violet gave her neither, in fact she radiated indignation. “And after? Could you not have gone to Matthew before you fled?”

“I didn’t want him to have to run with me. I was so ashamed and humiliated and terrified. I would have ruined everyone’s lives. He wouldn’t have been able to stop Blakiston from dragging me back.”

“How do you know that? Perhaps Blake would have embraced his birthright if it had meant saving you.”

“He wouldn’t have done that for me.” As soon as the words were out, Sophie knew them for the lies they were. Of course he would have saved her. Matthew and he would never have allowed anything to happen to her, but it had taken so many years to come to the realization and by then, too much time had passed. Too much had happened.

Her mind drifted back to the night she fled—the pain she was in, the humiliation that her innocence had been taken so violently. She hadn’t wanted to face anyone at all, let alone the man she would have married had he asked. And then what of revenge? What if Blake or Matthew got it in their heads to avenge her honor and wound up swinging from a rope? Yes, she’d taken the lighter fork in the road.

“He would have saved you then and he would do it now.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“Are you sure?”

Sophie looked away from the question in Violet’s eyes.

In the sense of immediate danger she did not need rescuing, but she had turned out to be her own worst enemy. Who would save her from herself? She enjoyed London. The bustling metropolis always delivered something different. No two days were ever the same and she had her life mapped out there. She had the clinic and the children they helped; she had her friends and her wealth. Everything was easy.

Except for the men.

Despite the fact her reputation was mostly gossip, she had slept with men for housing and gowns. It was a necessity she’d accepted very early on, but she was older now. She liked to think she was wiser. She hadn’t made a rash choice in years.

What do you call fleeing into the driving rain?

Blake had really hurt her. She’d never realized how much the man could hurt her. Why should she stay somewhere like that with a man like him?

The question of what she would do once she returned to London still lingered. Since there was no lower legal occupation than the one already pinned to her, she was at a loose end.

“Damn,” she muttered.

“He loves you,” Violet put forward gently.

“He certainly has a fine way of showing it.”

“It killed him when you left all those years ago. He was a wreck for months, picked fights with his uncle, Matthew, anyone who could give him a different type of pain than what you left him with. Even then, it was you he loved.”

“How do you know that? I can’t imagine Blake poured his heart out to you.”

Violet shook her head. “He didn’t tell me any of it but Matthew knew it all. What Blake told him and what he didn’t.”

“And he just told you?” Wasn’t there an unspoken bond between best friends? Between men? Would Blake be embarrassed to know that Matthew told his wife all of his dark secrets?

“A husband and wife have no secrets.” She smiled. “Matty tells me everything.”

Sophie rather doubted it. “Even if he does love me, we can’t talk for more than five minutes without nearly declaring war. If I were a man, we would have chosen our seconds and had it out at dawn already.”

“If you were a man, he wouldn’t argue with you so. If you were a man, your leaving would have only left him angry rather than devastated.”

Devastated. The word rattled around in her head. If he was so devastated, why had he never written to her? Matthew had her address in recent years. Why hadn’t he come to the city to declare his love and bring her home? It’s what she secretly waited for all those years of men and gambling and the never-ending night life. In the back of her mind she’d replayed the fairy tales endlessly and hated the princesses and damsels in distress for their knights. She especially hated the trusty steeds for not carrying a prince to her rescue to live happily ever after.

She’d almost given up on happily-ever-afters but sometimes, when she saw a couple like Matthew and Violet, her hope would be renewed. At least until the next blow came to knock her back to reality. Like losing the babies. For a few weeks, she had been in the happiest of places, had even begun to consider her return to Blakiston as the new start she’d needed for herself and her child. But that wasn’t meant to be either. Things did happen for a reason, but the reasons were usually irrational, unexplainable and devastating. There was that word again.

“Do you love him?” Violet asked.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He could never respect me, he could never forget the fourteen years in between and the things I’ve done.” She looked up into Violet’s eyes, her own misting with hot tears she’d held back for days. “I’ve done things, Violet, things I could never forget or forgive, so why would he?”

“You don’t have to forget. Those years made you who you are today. You will have to forgive yourself before you can expect his forgiveness, but I suspect you don’t need his. I think he’s already given it to you. The arguments are his way of telling you he’s still hurting but I’m sure if you could understand where the pain comes from, you can take care of it. You can take care of it, him and you.”

“What if I don’t have the strength?” It was the scariest question she’d ever asked out loud. What if she didn’t have the strength? Would it all fall apart? “What if I can’t be that strong?”

“Maybe it’s time you stopped being needed and started to need. Perhaps you should let a big capable man be strong enough for the both of you?”





Chapter Twenty



Blake woke early the next morning with barely any sleep and a permanent lump stuck inside his throat. The sun wasn’t yet up, but it wouldn’t be long and he needed to be on the road now. He dressed quickly, unaware and uncaring of what he donned. In the kitchen he made coffee. As he gulped and his stomach warmed, his gaze was drawn to the small changes Sophie had made in the short time she’d spent turning his kitchen into her domain. Everywhere he looked was neat and tidy. She’d even scrubbed the wall above the hearth, bringing it back to a warm brick color rather than the red and black grime color it had become. He ran a tight kitchen, but he didn’t get time to do some things.