“Very well, my lady. A parcel has arrived for you. I have put it on your bedside table.”
“Lovely, thank you, Jenny. Good night.”
Sophie sat on the side of her bed and picked up the parcel. Her fingers trembled as she undid the string. Inside was Timmy’s little shirt. She knew it was his because Sophie had made it for him. Exhaling slowly, she picked up the note and unfolded it.
I thought you might like this as a memento, Sophie Beams.
You’re strong, Sophie, remember that.Her mother had always said that to her.You will deal with this as you have everything else.
“I know it has to be you, Jack Spode,” Sophie whispered, touching the shirt. Why did he not ask for money? What was he waiting for?
They invented the wordevilfor Jack Spode, and she’d escaped from his control… but now he’d found her. Sophie knew he wanted to make her pay. He would make her suffer too. But when would he make his move?
CHAPTER 15
Patrick watched as grooms led the matching blacks out of their stall. To anyone looking, he was merely enjoying the horse sale and scent of excitement that was always on offer at Tattersalls. His eyes, however, were another story entirely—they were alive with the anticipation that always heated his blood before he purchased horses. After inspecting the pair upon his arrival, Patrick had known they would be an excellent investment. He wanted them, and he would have them.
What he also wanted was the Countess of Monmouth more every time he saw her. Clearly, he was losing his mind, because she’d warned him to stay away from her. No one warned him and got away with it, but she would.
Because when you are around her, she makes you lose reason.
Patrick was sure that should terrify him far more than it did, considering he’d vowed never to allow a woman any hold over him.
“Do you know what that bloody Tompkins just said?” growled Stephen as he joined Patrick.
“Any chance you can hold your tongue for five minutes?” he said as he felt his heartbeat increase when the first bid was called. The tougher the haggling, the more he liked it.
“He inferred she had thrown herself at his feet and that she was a harlot.”
Ignoring Stephen, Patrick nodded to indicate his interest. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see two other men bidding.
“A woman of loose morals, and he, the pious little bastard?—”
“Shut up,” Patrick said softly as he nodded to show another bid.
“Anyone can see she is hardly that.” Stephen ignored the warning and continued on with his story. “I know I wasn’t sure about her at the beginning, but I soon changed my mind when you pointed a few things out to me. ’Tis my belief she tweaked Tompkins’s pride or rebuffed him, but of course the others will believe his word, and the story will be bigger than Lady Toon’s knickers before sunset.”
Patrick always fixed a purchase price in his head and never advanced beyond that. That amount was approaching.
“The Countess of Monmouth is not now, nor ever will be, a harlot. I’ll add to that, I thought about breaking the man’s nose?—”
“What?” Patrick dragged his eyes from the bidding to look at his friend. “Did you just say Tompkins called the countess a harlot?”
“I say,” Stephen said, looking at the horses that were being led around the pen before him. “Aren’t those the ones you wanted?”
“Sold! Congratulations, Your Grace.”
Patrick ground his teeth as he watched the Duke of St. Bride wave at him with a huge smile on his face. Spitting out a chorus of oaths, he then pinned Stephen with a stare that would have felled a lesser man. “What about the countess?” he gritted out.
“Tompkins was surrounded by his usual pack of mealymouthed cronies,” Stephen said, looking serious, which instantly put Patrick on alert. Stephen never looked serious about anything.
“He said that your countess had made several very suggestive remarks to him about entertaining him in her rooms. However, a reliable source told me it was he who approached her and that she turned him down, so that is why he is blackening her name with this foul story. It honestly is sickening that with a few words, a man can ruin a woman’s reputation and others will believe him and turn on her.”
“Is he still here?” Patrick asked, looking over the heads of men standing about to wait for the next auction.
“Ah—”
“Stephen. You interrupted me to tell me. Don’t back down now. Is he still here?”
