Behind the Courtesan(42)

She had given him so much in the past week and not all because of the bargain he’d trapped her into. After their accident, she’d stepped up and done everything expected of a publican and more. But at the end of the day, she wasn’t made for this life. Running a tavern wasn’t going to keep her in Blakiston and he doubted he would be enticing enough on his own. No. He had to offer her something. Something more than a farmer’s wife and more than love.

In reality, with Sophie being so logical, love would not put a roof over her head. It didn’t matter how he offered it, she would need more.

Would she stay for a duke if not for a tavern keeper? If it came down to it, he would sell his soul for a roof over her beautiful head.

He walked back into the tap, and using the tip of his mud-crusted boot, he kicked Matthew awake and thrust a coffee into his hands, his energy more renewed now than when he’d first woken. “Drink up and make it quick,” he said. “I ride out in ten minutes with or without you.”

“Is it still raining?” Matthew asked as he rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“Rain stopped around three. It’ll be slippery but at least not so cold and miserable.”

“Speaking of miserable,” Matthew said with a small smile. “Where do you plan to start looking? It’s going to be treacherous going, even if the rain does keep off.”

He’d been thinking on that all night. The closest property over the bridge was Matthew’s. But why she would have gone there when her brother was at the inn, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, they had to start somewhere. “I’m going to backtrack to the bridge on the other side and you are going to go straight home. Check on your wife and then come and find me. The mud will be so deep on the other side that, with luck, I’ll see footprints. Hopefully the other two bridges are still standing.”

Neither man said it but the bridge to the south was sure to have taken the full weight of the fallen bridge and likely had been washed away as well. Hopefully, if luck did smile on them that day, the old and rotten timbers would have sunk, snagged or broken up in the three miles of bends and banks before the next bridge. His hopes were pinned on sunk or snagged.

“We’ll take Daemon’s horses.”

“Will you now?” a sleepy voice asked from the doorway.

Blake spun and faced his brother, already dressed in high boots, breeches and a sturdy shirt, waistcoat and coat, the very picture of a powerful duke. “You’re going to help?” he asked.

Daemon gave him a don’t-be-daft look before walking farther into the room. “The Duke’s horses will be faster. I had Dominic collect three of the best last night. They should be saddled and ready right about,” he pulled out his fob and examined the face, “now.”

“What are we waiting for, then?” Sophie could be out there, hurt, desperate or in danger. Fourteen years was more than enough time to forget how dangerous the wild countryside could be. The night they were stranded, she’d wanted to start walking back to the inn on her own. The woman had no idea.

Blake didn’t wait for an answer. He turned on his heel and marched through the muddy yard and into the stable. They’d wasted enough time.

Dominic handed him the reins to a towering chestnut and with barely a nod, he swung up into the saddle and took off north. The horse mustn’t have seen exercise for some time in Blakiston’s yard, and sensing his eagerness, took the lead and lengthened his stride, quickening his pace until the only sound was the thunder of his hooves. The wind whipped past, stinging his cheeks.

Blake leaned over his neck, only putting the slightest pressure on the reins to keep the beast to the solid parts of the road rather than the slick mud. One of them was going to wind up with a broken neck if even one hoof was misplaced.

When the northern bridge came into view, Blake looked heavenward and gave thanks, reining in hard.

“I thought you were never going to slow,” Daemon said as he brought a midnight horse to a stop next to his.

“I would rather find Sophie than die trying,” he said.

“You could have ridden past her and never noticed.”

Blake shook his head. “She won’t be on this side of the river and the current is going the opposite way.” He swallowed hard. “If she went in, she’ll be down Matthew’s end.” As soon as he said the words, he groaned. He should have taken the south.

“Don’t even think it,” Daemon ordered. “We will find her safe and sound. That woman has more lives than an alley cat.”

“I hope so,” Blake muttered before crossing the bridge with care. If the water had been strong enough to take the other, then this one could have sustained damage also.

By the time they got to where the footings from the old structure stood, naked and lonely, the sun shone bright on a day of torment. He saw small boot tracks sliding about before ceasing in the harder part of the roadway.

“Thank the Lord she made it over,” Daemon breathed, echoing Blake’s exact thoughts.

With more hope than he dared feel an hour before, they set off again, this time in the direction of Matthew’s house. There was nowhere else to go out here.

“Do you think she was wrong to react the way she did?” Blake asked as they rode. “After what I said?”

“I would have punched you, myself. Or called you out. She did what any woman would have done. But for God’s sake, she should only have fled to the kitchens or barn in this weather.”

“Why are you helping me now? You don’t think I deserve her any more than I do.”

“It’s not about who deserves whom or even how you treat each other. It’s a question of whether you can make her happy. I believe you can. If you can keep your mouth shut.”

But the problem wasn’t going to be his mouth. Even if they found her, how could he tell her everything in his heart before she ripped his head off?

Before he could think further about the angle of his approach, she appeared. Just like that. She walked with long strides over the crest of a hill in the middle of the road on the hard packed dirt and she was...smiling. Vibrantly. The sleeves of her ruined dress were pulled up to her arms and stains darkened the front, but she smiled as she walked.

Blake kicked his heels hard to the sides of the horse until the beast surged with power beneath him. When he was close enough, he reined in, but before the animal had stopped, he kicked free of the stirrups and leapt from his back.

Blake was so unashamedly glad to see her, he threw his arms around her and lifted her from the ground. She fit in his arms as if she was made to be held by him and only him. It was a few seconds before Blake realized how he held her and went to put her back on her feet. It was only a second more until he realized she held him just as hard.

“Thank God you’re all right. You could have died.”

“You’re here,” she whispered.

“Where else would I be?”

The thunder of hoof beats brought them back to the fact they stood in the middle of the road. Daemon averted his gaze, his horse shifting after sensing her rider’s discomfort.

Matthew pulled the reins hard and finally came to a stop, looked Sophie from head to toes and back again. “Where the hell have you been?”

“You were supposed to be downstream, Matthew,” Blake pointed out.

“I did go that way, but then I found the remains of the bridge and the tree branches are completely blocking the bend down by the Patrick place. I figured if she had been in the water, the tree would have stopped her swim.”

“How nice of you to put it that way,” Sophie commented with a shiver. “As you can see, I didn’t require a swim at all.”

“Is that blood on your dress?” he asked, ignoring her attempt at sarcasm.

“It’s not mine.”

Matthew stared at her for a moment, his gaze shifting from her face to the road she had walked down. “Violet?”

* * *

Sophie didn’t get the chance to answer before he’d kicked his heels to his horse’s sides and took off down the lane.

“Do I need to go after him?” Daemon asked.

“She is fine, as are the babies.”

“Babies?” both men echoed.

“A boy and a girl.”

Blake blew out a breath before speaking. “Are they all right? Jesus, Sophie, what happened last night?”

“After I left the inn, I headed to say my goodbyes to Violet and found her in labor.”

“Do I want to know the rest of this story?” Daemon groaned.

Sophie laughed. “Perhaps not.”

“Then I’ll go and make sure your brother doesn’t kill himself on his way home.”

“Blake, I—”

“Sophie—”

Sophie thought Blake would do the gentlemanly thing and let her speak first but when she opened her mouth, he clapped a hand over it and shushed her. He shushed her?