The old manharrumphedagain. “That goes without saying, but you understand my meaning.”
“I do indeed, sir.” Nash held out his hand. “I shall speak with Lady Nia this evening, and pay a call on Miss Hampshire and Burns tomorrow.”
Sir Malcolm clasped Nash’s hand with the powerful grip of a man half his age. “Once again, our battlefield brotherhood has saved me. You have my gratitude, colonel.”
“As ever, I am grateful for your friendship, sir.” Nash stood at attention and saluted his commander.
The general straightened in his chair, puffed out his chest, and returned the salute. “Keep me apprised of how it goes, colonel. I look forward to hearing of your success.”
“I shall indeed, sir.” After a polite bow, Nash dismissed himself, eager to set in motion the plan to help Miss Hampshire and to speak with Burns about any recommendations the man might have to assist him in his own cause. He would consult with the dowager countess tonight in private after discussing the change in plans with Merritt and the other men.
As he stepped up into the carriage and settled in the seat, he debated whether to tell Sophie. The general and his wife werequite ashamed of their daughter’s fall from grace and had no doubt experienced as much of theton’s scathing treatment as they could bear. Society had probably ostracized them to where only their closest friends would associate with them, and that would only be under cover of darkness and, more than likely, by using the servants’ entrance at the back of the house.
“Utterly ridiculous,” he muttered. Out of respect for them, he would not tell Sophie, nor would he elaborate on the details with Merritt or the others. The only person who needed to know the entirety of Miss Hampshire’s adventures was the dowager countess herself. Besides, a basic survival instinct warned him that his precious swan might not be especially pleased with his visiting Miss Hampshire to convince her to part ways with her current lifestyle. Hence, there was no need to upset Sophie by telling her.
As the carriage pulled up to Rydleshire House, he spotted her stepping out the door, alone and dressed for more than a simple breath of fresh air.
“Sophie!” he barked as he bounded out of the carriage.
She glared at him, clearly annoyed with the sharpness of his tone. At the moment, he didn’t care. Not when her safety depended on her doing as he had asked.
“I was merely crossing the way to Celia’s.” She fidgeted in place, passing her reticule back and forth between her gloved hands, clearly knowing she was guilty as sin.
He stepped up beside her and cradled an arm around her waist as he eyed their surroundings for anything amiss. “You agreed to have a guard accompany you any time you stepped out of the house. Remember?” He struggled to keep his voice even and calm when what he really wished to do was throw her over his shoulder, carry her back inside, and lock her in their bedroom until they captured the devil threatening her life. Hehugged her closer as they walked down the steps. “You promised me, Sophie.”
“I checked the street through the windows,” she weakly defended herself, then gave him a pained look. “Merritt and the others were deep in some sort of conversation. I didn’t wish to interrupt them to toddle me across the way like a group of overly attentive nannies.”
As they reached the bottom of the steps, he turned her to face him. “That is why I brought them here, and they fully understand that. Are you going to force me to have them guard you the way Merritt once stood guard outside your mother’s bedchamber?”
“No,” she said rather sheepishly while glancing aside to avoid looking him in the eyes.
“I love you, Sophie,” he said softly, gathering her closer.
“Nash!” She hissed like one of the kittens while pushing on his chest. “Out here on the street?”
“To the devil with the street and everyone on it.” He tilted her face up to his. “You are mine. I love you, and I intend to keep you safe. That is all that matters.” He kissed her hard, pouring his love and fear for her safety into the bond. She had made him love her, and to be robbed of her now was a cruelty he was unwilling to bear.
He lifted his head and stared down at her. “Is the duchess expecting you?”
The color rode high on her cheeks. She hitched in a shuddering breath and ran the tip of her tongue across her lips. “No. I merely thought to call upon her for a visit.”
“Might you visit her tomorrow?” he whispered, while nuzzling the silky softness just beneath her ear.
She pressed closer while turning her head so he might continue his tasting of the sweet skin along her throat. “And why would I wish to delay my visit with her?”
“Come out of the street with me, my love, and I will show you.” He tugged her back up the front steps and into the house.
Thornton appeared out of nowhere, his usual staid demeanor shifting to one of worry. “My lord, my lady, is something amiss?”
“Nothing at all, Thornton,” Nash said before Sophie answered. Sweeping her up the stairs to their private suite, he called back over his shoulder, “We are not to be disturbed. We shall come down when we are ready.”
“Yes, my lord.” The butler’s tone revealed no opinion whatsoever.
“Nash,” Sophie quietly scolded while ducking her head. “What will everyone think?”
“They can think whatever they wish.” He ushered her into their sitting room and bellowed, “Marie!”
“Marie is either downstairs or out. I am not sure which. I told her I would be out for a while and gave her the rest of the day to herself. I believe she is quite taken with Thomas.”
