Before he could stop her, she’d run for the door, scooping up her bonnet on the way.
“Stop!”
She opened it and fled. Cursing, Patrick rebuttoned his breeches, and it was then he saw the blood. Proof that he’d just taken her virginity. Shoving his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, he followed, slamming the door behind him.
“Sophie!” he bellowed. Following at a run, he caught sight of her skirts as she hurried through the gate.
“Stop!” She didn’t.
Delivering several curses into the dark air, Patrick followed but knew he wouldn’t catch her, as there were too many places to hide.
“What have you done, Coulter?” He berated himself as he tidied his appearance and walked back to the garden party, hoping to find her there. What the hell must she be feeling? Scared, angry—no doubt both emotions.
After checking everywhere for her, he had to accept that Sophie had gone.
Finding Stephen, he told him he was leaving the garden party. His friend seemed happy to join him on the carriage ride home but didn’t seem to want to talk, which Patrick was happy with.
If Timothy was not Sophie and the late Earl of Monmouth’s son, then whose son was he? Further to that was why was she living a lie?
One realization Patrick came to as the carriage halted outside his town house was that everything had now changed between him and the Countess of Monmouth, and their futures were now determined.
CHAPTER 19
Sophie had hidden in the bushes, waiting for him to leave the gardens before she returned to Letty. Heart in her throat, she had watched Lord Coulter run past where she hid, but he had not seen her.
He’d just taken her virginity, and she’d let him because she’d wanted to be with him. In that moment, she’d thought of nothing but that. Yes, there had been pain, and it was the shock of that which had cleared the sensual fog. But in that small gazebo, she had experienced passion. Something she’d never believed possible… or, for that matter, had known could be between a man and a woman. Not that she’d ever experience it with another man again.
Pressing the backs of her hands to her hot, damp cheeks, she was glad no one could see her, because surely she looked like a woman who had been ravished. Her skirts were creased, she’d lost her gloves, and although she had tried to stuff the hair that had come loose into her bonnet, it was a fruitless task without pins. How did people carry on liaisons undetected?
Peeking out from her hiding place, Sophie could see no other guests, so she stepped onto the path. Locating Letty whileavoiding the earl was her only objective. She would plead a headache and return to the town house at once.
What must he be thinking? Of course, he’d known she was a virgin after what they’d shared. He now also knew that Timmy was not her child, so what was he to her.
She’d told Letty this charade would never work, Sophie thought as she hurried through the gardens, eyes shooting first left and then right to ensure Lord Coulter was not lying in wait for her.
“Countess, how delightful to see you. I said to my daughters just the other day that we must have you over for tea one morning,” Lady Sumner said, appearing before her.
Damn.Forcing a smile onto her face, she dropped into a curtsy and attempted to act like nothing was wrong. She could only hope she no longer looked like she’d been ravished.
“Lady Sumner, how wonderful to meet you again,” Sophie said.
“You also, my dear. Now, take my arm, Countess, and we shall walk together.”
She did because she was out of options. Had Lady Sumner seen her enter the gardens and possibly Lord Coulter?
“I love pansies. They have small happy faces and come in outrageous colors, and if there is one thing I adore, it is to be outrageous,” Lady Sumner stated as they passed a bed of the blooms.
“They are lovely,” Sophie got out woodenly.
“Now here’s what we shall do, dear. I will take you through the gardens and around the house, and then I will settle you in my carriage. I shall then tell Letty that you have taken ill from the sun, but that she is not to worry, as you are safely on your way home.”
“Oh, I?—”
“Sophie—I hope you don’t mind me calling you that, but I feel the occasion calls for informality.”
“I would be happy for you to call me Sophie,” she said stiffly, wondering what was coming next.
“I can see by your face something has upset you, and while I may hazard a guess, that is for another time. But am I right in thinking you simply wish to leave this garden party undetected?”
