“It’s not morning yet,” Sophie said, standing. She held out her hand, and Amelia took it. The man then waved them out the door.
“It’s so cold in here,” Amelia whispered.
“Freezing,” Sophie agreed. “We need to work out how to get out of here,” she whispered. “So start thinking.”
“Don’t try anything,” the man behind them said.
They walked along the hall in silence and then took the stairs at the end up to another hall.
“Go in through that door on the right.”
“Please,” Amelia added.
Sophie felt him as she entered the room. The air was colder in here. Jack Spode sat behind a desk, which was the only furniture in the room. Evil, she thought. It came off him in waves.
“My love, we are reunited at last.”
This man had always terrified her. But she’d fought hard not to show him that fear. Sophie believed this was the reason he’d never tired of her. Jack Spode wanted to break her.
“Love implies a certain depth of character, Mr. Spode, and you most definitely do not have that,” Sophie said.
“Aren’t men meant to stand when a lady walks in the room?” Amelia asked from beside Sophie. She would show no fear either.
“He’s no gentleman,” Sophie added.
Jack Spode hated anyone disrespecting him.
With dark features and eyes that were too close together, he wasn’t a big man but gained power through manipulation and greed. Sophie loathed him.
“Mr. Spode? So formal, Sophie Beams,” Jack said. “I spent a lot of time working out how to get revenge on you, and then one day someone delivered you to my door.”
“I think you have stretched the truth, Mr. Spode, because no one delivered me to your door—they brought me at gunpoint.”
Sophie watched as he got out of the chair and came around the desk to stand before her.
“A countess. You have done well for yourself, Sophie Beams. Although…” he said, running his eyes over her body. “Once a guttersnipe, always a guttersnipe.”
“Guttersnipe?” Sophie said quietly. “I think you have us mixed up, Mr. Spode. Surely it is only you who has existed insuch a place, not I. You are the sniveling rodent who lives off the pain of others.”
“Bitch!” he snarled. His temper was never far from the surface, and Sophie had just tweaked it. “I will teach you manners!”
“But I already have them,” Sophie said, clutching Amelia’s fingers, “so it is you who should live in a sewer.”
Show no fear.
“I said I would teach you a lesson for what you did to me?—”
“I did to you?” Sophie snapped back at him. “You tried to force yourself on me! I fought you off to save my life. I hit you with that rock and ran. It is no less than you deserved.”
“This man tried to force himself on you?” Amelia demanded.
“Shut up.” Jack jabbed a finger at Amelia. “This is between her and me.”
“Then let her go,” Sophie yelled back.
“She will suffer alongside you, and you’ll know her pain is because of your actions,” Jack spat out.
“You’re a weak-kneed weasel, Jack Spode,” Sophie hissed, her temper rising.
