“I was putting on my sling,” Sophie hissed as she stepped down. “I have a hole in my arm from the last time you shot me.”
She could not see half of their faces, as they wore scarves, but noted one dropped his eyes.
“Come here, Sophie,” Amelia said.
She didn’t move, instead looking at the men. “Let Miss Logan go, as it is me you want,” Sophie said, taking a step away from her friend and closer to them.
“No!” Amelia cried, coming to stand beside her and gripping her hand. “You are injured and weak; I need to look after you.”
“I will never be weak,” Sophie said, eyeing the men. “Let me go, Amelia.”
“Absolutely not,” her friend said, slipping an arm around Sophie’s waist. “We stay together.”
“We have no time to argue,” one man said. “Get them on the horses. He’s waiting.”
Sophie knew who “he” was. Jack Spode would be waiting for her somewhere, and she would be ready. That man hadtormented her long enough. It stopped now no matter the outcome. She just had to keep Amelia safe.
Hands gripped her waist, and then she was lifted in front of one of the men. The same happened to Amelia, and they were soon galloping away from everyone she loved. Patrick would come for her. Sophie didn’t doubt that; she just had to stay alive until he arrived.
“Is Jack Spode behind this? Whatever he is paying you, I can give you a lot more. My husband is the Earl of Coulter, and?—”
“Shut up, Countess. You will have your answers soon enough.”
“Do not tell me a big, strong man like you is frightened of Jack Spode?” Sophie mocked, but he just clenched his jaw and remained silent.
They rode for hours,or at least it felt that way to Sophie. Her arm ached, and her thighs felt raw, but she never moaned or spoke. She would not show weakness to these men. Amelia, too, stayed silent behind her.
Sophie nearly wept with relief when they slowed to a walk and turned into a driveway. She saw an old sign but could not make out the words. They rode under a canopy of trees that opened to a courtyard and a large moss-covered stone house.
She was lowered to the floor, and her knees threatened to buckle, but she locked them to hold her upright. Looking up the stone walls, Sophie shivered. He was there, behind those walls, waiting for her. She knew it.
“If you let us go now, you may be spared!” Sophie said, trying to sound strong.
“Now why would we do that, my lady?” the man she’d ridden with said.
“Because the Earl of Coulter and Viscount Sumner are powerful men with many resources. Do you really want to make an enemy of them?” Amelia added.
“Get them inside,” one man said.
This house wasn’t lived-in, Sophie thought as they entered. It smelled musty and unkempt. Windowpanes were cracked, and floor tiles missing. A hand nudged her toward an open door, and she entered. The room was cold, dirty, and damp, with only a narrow bed and chamber pot.
“Water and food at once!” Amelia bellowed as she looked around her. “And blankets,” she added. “This room is a disgrace.”
“You are bloody prisoners, not guests,” one man said from his position by the door. He then slammed it after he’d left, and they heard the lock slide home.
Amelia turned to face Sophie, who had sunk onto the bed.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. You are here because of me.”
“I understand that, just not why,” her friend said, joining her.
She told Amelia everything then, from her birth to her eventual escape by marrying Lord Monmouth, and then she told her about Jack Spode.
“Timmy is your brother?”
“Yes,” Sophie whispered, waiting for the look of horror to settle on her friend’s face.
“Fine. Now we must plan how we are going to escape from here.”
