CHAPTER 1
“Mother?” Sophia pressed her palm against the bedchamber door, her heart hammering beneath her nightgown.
The floorboards had creaked moments ago.
A voice, low and male, had rumbled through the walls. At half past two in the morning, no voice should be sounding in this household.
“It is all right, darling.” Her mother’s reply came muffled through the wood. “Go back to bed.”
The tremor in those words said everything her mother’s assurances did not.
Sophia turned the handle and pushed inside.
The scene before her turned her blood to ice. Her mother stood backed against the window, her wrapper clutched at her throat, her honey-blonde hair tumbling loose around shoulders that shook with each breath.
And there, blocking the path to the door, stood Lord Drakeston.
He turned at Sophia’s entrance, irritation flashing across features that the ton considered distinguished. At sixty, the Marquess of Drakeston maintained the polished appearance of a gentleman. His silver hair swept back from a high forehead. He wore a tailored coat even at this ungodly hour, gloves still on his hands. But his eyes betrayed him. They glittered with something that made Sophia’s stomach clench.
She crossed the room in three strides and positioned herself between her mother and the marquess.
Her pulse roared in her ears, but she kept her voice level. “What are you doing here, my lord?”
“Sophia.” Her mother’s hand found her shoulder, fingers digging in. “Please, go back to your room.”
“I will not.” Sophia held Drakeston’s gaze. “Answer me.”
The marquess’s jaw tightened. For a moment, fury blazed across his face, raw and unguarded. Then he smoothed his expression into something resembling civility, though the effort cost him.
“I came to collect an installment on your family’s debt. Your mother was explaining the household’s financial situation.”
“At half past two in the morning?” Sophia felt her hands curl into fists at her sides. She forced them to relax. “You receive payments at your residence, my lord. That has been the arrangement. You aren’t permitted to come to our home at this hour.”
Drakeston stepped closer. Sophia held her ground, though every instinct screamed at her to retreat.
“Permitted?” His lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. “Your father owes me four thousand pounds, Lady Sophia. Four thousand. At this point, I own this house, these furnishings, the clothes on your backs.” His gaze traveled down her nightgown and wrapper, deliberate, violating. “I may come and go as I please. Particularly when it concerns your mother’s bedchamber.”
Behind her, her mother made a small, wounded sound.
Sophia’s vision blurred red at the edges. She wanted to strike him. Wanted to claw that satisfied expression off his face. Her nails bit into her palms as she fought to maintain control.
“Wait here.” The words emerged calm, measured, and betrayed nothing of the fury churning inside her. “I will return in a moment.”
She didn’t wait for his response. She swept past him, down the corridor to her own chamber, her bare feet silent on the cold floorboards. Inside, she went straight to her writing desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and retrieved the leather pouch hidden beneath a stack of correspondence.
Her fingers trembled as she counted the notes. This was supposed to last another fortnight. This was meant to buy them breathing room, time to find another client, another match, another lifeline.
But some things mattered more than money.
She returned to her mother’s room and thrust the pile of banknotes toward Drakeston. He raised an eyebrow, took them, then counted them with infuriating precision.
“Where did you come by this sum?” His eyes narrowed as he tucked the notes into his coat. “A young lady of your circumstances shouldn’t have access to such funds.”
“My aunt has been generous.” Sophia met his gaze without flinching. “She sends what she can from her travels with my sister.”
Drakeston eyed her for a long moment. Sophia kept her expression blank, her breathing even, even though her heart threatened to crack through her ribs.
“Very well.” He adjusted his gloves. “You have bought yourself another month, Lady Sophia. I suggest you use it wisely.”
