Sophia looked down at her skirts. “Blast it,” she muttered, herface flushing.
Lady Clifford’s soft laugh drifted across the bedchamber, and then she was gone, closing the door with a quiet click behind her.
Tristan’s gaze met Sophia’s. “Sophia. Come here, pixie.”
Sophia gave him an uncharacteristically shy look, but she crossed the room and stopped by the side of his bed. He reached and took her hand in a weak grip. “You look fatigued, sweetheart.”
“You developed an infection a few days ago, and I thought…I was worried.” Her lower lip began to tremble, and she sank her teeth into it to still it. “You’re much better now. Giles Wakeford took good care of you.”
Giles Wakeford. The man with the dark hair and brown eyes. Tristan would thank him later. Much later.
For now, all he wanted, all he could see, was Sophia.
“Come closer, sweetheart.” After an exhaustive effort and more than one curse and hiss of pain, Tristan managed to shift a little to his left. “Liedown with me.”
“No.” Sophia hung back. “I don’t wantto jostle you.”
“You won’t. There’s plenty of room.”
Sophia glanced at the door. “Lady Clifford will scold dreadfully if she finds out.” But when she turned to Tristan again, her face was filled with longing.
“Lady Clifford is gone. Please, Sophia. I need to hold you and reassure myself you’re here, andin one piece.”
Sophia’s resolve disintegrated in the face of that soft plea. “Oh, well, perhaps for just a moment.” She rested a knee on the bed and climbed up beside him, taking care not to hurt him. Once she was settled, she lay her hand gently against his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder.
More than anything Tristan wanted to wrap his arm around her and ease her head down to his chest, but that would have to wait until he’d healed, so he settled for turning his head and burying his face in her hair. “There’s something I need to know, Sophia. You overheard me talking to Sampson Willis, didn’t you?”
Sophia stiffened. “It doesn’t matter now—”
“Yes, it does. Itmatters to me.”
She let out a long, deep sigh, her warm breath ghosting over his neck. “Yes. I…he said you were investigating me.”
Tristan heard the tremor in her voice, and pressed a kiss into her dark hair. “I won’t lie to you, or pretend it isn’t true. Willis did ask me to investigate you, but I agreed to do it the morning after our first meeting at St. Clement Dane’s Church, the night I followed you there. I didn’t know youthen, Sophia.”
She sighed. “No, you didn’t. I don’t blame you for agreeing to investigate me, Tristan. Henry Gerrard was your friend, and anyone would have been suspicious of me, but once you did know me, you should have toldme the truth.”
“I made a mistake, and I’m sorry for it. You were so skittish at first, I thought you’d never trust me again if I told you, and then later, I…this won’t make much sense to you, but I became so preoccupied with you, I didn’t think about the investigation at all.”
She raised her head to stare at him. “How could youforgetyou were investigating me? You’re a Bow Street Runner, Tristan.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t forget, precisely. It was more that the investigation ceased to matter to me. The mistake I made was in thinking it wouldn’tmatter toyou.”
She lay her head back on his shoulder. “It doesn’t now.”
Tristan waited, knowing there was more. Sophia didn’t speak for a long time, but then she sniffled, and he felt the trickle of tears against his shoulder. “Are you betrothed, Tristan?”
He pressed his cheek into her hair, regret sweeping over him. “No. I’mnot betrothed.”
“I heard Sampson Willis say—”
“Shhh.” Tristan pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know what he said, but it isn’t true. I won’t deny there’s a lady in Oxfordshire my mother wishes to see become the Countess of Gray, but I’m not betrothed to her. I haven’t seen the lady in years. I can’t even remember her face.” More often than not he couldn’t even remember her name, but it didn’t seem gentlemanly to say so.
“You don’t…you don’t love her, then?” Sophia asked with another sniffle.
Tristan’s injuries prevented him from taking her into his arms, but he nestled her as close against him as he could, and then the words began to spill from his lips in an awkward rush. “No. I’ve only ever loved one lady. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you, Sophia. Well, perhaps not thefirsttime, because I thought you were a boy, but—”
“Yes, I’ve been meaning to mention that. It’s not very flattering, Lord Gray.”
