three goes, but he went. It is lucky that I know how to play cricket and how to hit the ball hard.’
He laughed out loud.
Sophie smiled back at him. Relief flooded through her. Somehow it made it easier to talk about it. Henri and Robert had never wanted to discuss that night. After they left the inn, Henri told her it was unnecessary as nothing had happened. But it had and Sophie couldn’t forget it. Sometimes she woke up with a pounding heart, reaching for the frying pan, trying to get it from her bag and finding her bag empty. ‘Three times, but I succeeded in the end.’
He instantly sobered and the fury returned to his face. ‘It should have taken him one, but it should never have to come to that. He should have accepted your no. You did say no, Sophie, before you started swinging your frying pan?’
‘I screamed it!’
‘Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.’ He patted her shoulder. The tiny gesture of approval sent a pulse of warmth throbbing through her. Richard agreed with her actions. ‘But why did you have a frying pan? It is not the usual sort of equipment one carries on an elopement. Are you a keen cook?’
‘When we first met, Henri had warned me that her cousin might have difficulties in understanding no. She thought a hatpin wouldn’t do, but he might need a frying pan applied to his head. I think she was joking when she said it, but I couldn’t be sure. When Sebastian insisted on eloping, I took the frying pan as precaution. I might have been a naïve débutante and inclined to believe flattery, Richard, but I am far from stupid.’
‘And what happened afterwards? Once you were rescued? Did no one tell you that it was Cawburn to blame, not you? Did your friends explain that you were young and unused to the ways of rogues and cads?’
Sophie looked at her hands. All sorts of things had been said, but she knew they were easy words. The shame at what she’d done and how she’d behaved rose in her throat. ‘Henri told me that I was to forget that it had ever happened. My life was supposed to go on as before. No one would ever know, but I knew. And I have made sure that I am never in situations like that again … until the other night. I thought I was safe. All I was doing was delivering a note from Cynthia. It was the work of a moment. I had no interest in Sir Vincent as a man. Sir Vincent seemed so … so …’
‘Infused with gentlemanly virtue?’ Richard supplied with a bitter twist to his mouth.
‘Exactly, but he wasn’t. He … he called me the same sorts of names and threaten—’
A shudder went through her. Her throat worked up and down, but she knew if she continued, she’d break down in tears. She refused to cry, particularly not in front of Richard.
Without a word, he gathered her into his arms and rested his head on top of hers. Unlike the other times he had held her, this time had a quality of caring and comfort to it. The gentleness of his touch made her feel secure. Safe in a way that she had not felt for years, not since the inn. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart.
‘What did he say to you?’ he asked, gently stroking her back. ‘Cawburn, I mean. I can guess, but I need to know, Sophie. Can you tell me, please?’
‘He turned very nasty and called me all sorts of names. A hell-cat, a she-devil. He said that I had led him on. It was all my fault and that he’d never behave like that around a true lady. I had shown my true breeding—a common whore.’
A single tear trickled down her cheek. She sat up and wiped it away with furious fingers. He silently passed her a handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes and regained control.
‘I have made a mess of your shirt front. You must realise that—’
‘Hush. They were all lies.’ He tilted her face so he looked her directly in the eyes. ‘All wicked lies, Sophie, from a cowardly scoundrel. You are the epitome of a lady. You were young. He took advantage of you. Cawburn bears all the blame. You were and remain the innocent victim who used all the means at your disposal and some brilliant ingenuity. Did he say anything else? Threaten you?’
She gave a brief nod. He might believe that, but she had to wonder, particularly given how much she’d enjoyed Richard’s kisses yesterday—was she truly a bad woman who simply played at being good? ‘Finally he said that we would have to marry and he’d spend all my money. He’d enjoy seeing me reduced to poverty and dressed in the meanest rags.’
‘You can see what a liar he was.’ He ticked off the points on his fingers. ‘You didn’t have to marry. And he most definitely has not spent all your money. You have a sterling reputation and are admired by many people, while he was forced to flee to France to escape his creditors … and I know of at least one incident where he cheated at cards. He was caught red handed and denied it with very great bleats, accusing everyone else, until I drew the card from his boot.’
‘You did?’
‘A man who will cheat at cards will cheat and lie at anything, and most particularly in love. Think of that the next time you are tempted to believe anything else he said. The reason you enjoy such a good reputation is because you are a good person, Sophie. Everyone is allowed one mistake.’
‘It was because of Henri … It was all her doing.’
He shook his head. ‘I have never met this Henri, but I know you. No one wields that much power. She might have kept it quiet for a little while, but your subsequent actions ensured silence. You haven’t hidden or stopped doing what you pleased. You simply stopped some of the lies he told you. It is time you stopped believing the rest of the filth.’
‘I still have nightmares,’ Sophie confessed.
‘Always with him. Never with me starring in his role.’ He pinned her with his gaze. ‘You are not frightened of me, are you, Sophie?’
Sophie bit her lip. She could hardly confess to the sort of dreams she was having about him! And how for the past two nights, she had woken with his name on her lips and a deep longing to have his lips against hers. It was trying to make those sorts of dreams real which led to her utter destruction.
‘Only with him,’ she managed. ‘I haven’t known you very long.’
‘I will never give you a reason to have a nightmare.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Is there any dream you have given up because of him and his lies?’ he asked into the silence which had filled the carriage. ‘Something you could do to prove to yourself that he no longer has power over you?’
‘I used to enjoy drawing. I was going to be a great painter. He had promised to take me to the Alps so I could paint.’ Sophie tried to swallow the hard lump which had formed in her throat. ‘I … I had always dreamt of going there on my honeymoon. I wanted to paint the mountains. I read somewhere that the light was good. People used to say that I was quite accomplished. Afterwards, I found it difficult to hold my brush or pen without the feelings of shame and remorse washing over me. Drawing became torture, something I did before. It was like my life was divided into two parts.’
Her limbs started to shake as she struggled to keep control and not allow those feelings to swamp her.
He pulled her back into his arms. ‘Hush, now. Your friend didn’t put a frying pan to Cawburn’s head. You did. And you are safe now. You can go to the Alps and paint if you
