Sophie worked hard, refusing to allow her mind to start wandering. The fact that Lord Harrington was so close made things more difficult than usual, given what they’d shared last evening, but she was determined not to show him how much it had affected her. She would give him no cause to think she was slacking.

Yet, she could not stop herself from glancing over at him on occasion. Each time she did so, he was looking straight back at her, a strange smile on his lips. It was as if he could not quite work her out, as though she were a puzzle he could not solve.

Sophie too felt in something of a muddle. She had returned to her room last evening filled with a strong desire for … something. She could not explain the deep-seated need beginning to surge within her, aware that her body was crying out yet unsure of what that particular urge was. She had longed for more of Lord Harrington’s kisses, and, despite her own misgivings, had allowed herself to explore his body further even when she knew she should be doing precisely the opposite.

She had been almost breathless as she’d touched him, fully aware that this was the first time she had done anything of the sort. Her mind had been trying to force her to be rational but all coherent thought had left her as she’d traced her fingers over his bare skin. If he had not stopped her, she was not sure what would have happened. At the very least, she was aware of what went on between man and woman thanks to the crude words that had come from her cousin’s mouth on more than one occasion, but she had never expected to feel such a strong desire for more of a man.

She realized how good it was of him to put a stop to things when he had the chance.

He had preserved her reputation and considered their future together -- though what he thought that would look like, heaven only knew. It would all come crashing down anyway when he realized she had been lying to him. Of course, she could have taken the opportunity to explain to him the truth of who she was last night, but she had been so happy in his arms, so relaxed and at ease, that to ruin such a thing had seemed impossible.

The problem was that now, in the cold light of day, she was finding it more difficult than ever to even have a normal conversation with him. When he had come over to look at her work, her cheeks had warmed and her skin had rippled with an awareness of him. When he had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, she had been forced to catch her breath. Trying and failing to talk normally, she had looked up at him and seen him smile, his gaze growing in intensity.

Had it not been for the scratch of the butler at the door, then Sophie was quite sure he would have kissed her again.

At least the butler’s presence had given her pause, reminding her that she was going to have to stay out of sight for the next few days if she did not want her cousin to discover her. She glanced up at Lord Harrington, seeing him frown at something on his desk. Should she now, perhaps, take the opportunity to share with him what it was she felt? Could she tell him about her cousin and beg him to forgive her for her deception? Surely he would understand when she told him everything that had happened.

“My lord?”

He looked up at her at once. “Yes, Sarah?”

“Might I speak to you for a moment?” she asked, quietly, her heart beating faster as she rose to her feet.

He nodded and grinned at her. “It is probably best that you stand on the opposite side of the desk from me, Sarah.” His eyes glittered and Sophie felt herself blush. She took her seat in one of the wingback chairs in front of him, her nerves causing anxiety to ripple through her frame. She knew what she had to do in telling him everything, but the truth was, she simply did not want to. It would take a great deal of courage and she had no idea what he might say once he discovered the truth.

“My lord,” she began, “I – ”

The door suddenly flew open and a familiar voice caught her ears.

“Ah, Harrington! The butler said I might find you here!”

Sophie scrambled from her seat, her heart thundering in her chest. She kept her back to her cousin, practically racing back to her desk, grateful she faced the wall. She felt sick, as though she might make a state of herself right there in his study.

“Dunstable!” Harrington boomed, getting up from his chair. “I had thought to expect you tomorrow!”

“Well, I found myself in the vicinity and thought why not just come here anyway? I have sent my servants back for my things. Is Haversham here yet?”

Lord Harrington chuckled. “He will be here this evening. Goodness, what a merry party we shall make!”

Seeing that they were both quite caught up in their reacquaintance, Sophie did the only thing she could think of and hurried from the room. She left the door ajar, hoping desperately that Lord Harrington would not call her back. Once free from the study, she ran the length of the hallway, her entire body shaking with fear. Her cousin was here, and she had not had the time to tell Lord Harrington the truth.

* * *

“Oh, my dear!”

Mrs. Martins hurried towards her as Sophie made her way down the stairs, catching her hands and leading her into the kitchen. Mrs. Potts already had a hot toddy waiting for her, which Mrs. Martins pressed into her hands.

“He arrived unexpectedly,” Mrs. Martins explained, quietly. “We did not know until he knocked on the door. I would have come to find you but he insisted on making his own way up to the study. He knows this house well, you see. He has visited here before when the family has been in residence.”

Sophie lifted the hot toddy to her lips with trembling hands, the warm liquid burning down her throat as she sipped. Slowly, she felt a small amount of energy come back into her limbs, and she let out a long, shaky breath.

“I was about to tell Lord Harrington the truth of it all,” Sophie mumbled, trying to calm her frantic mind. “But then my cousin walked in.”

“Did he see you?” the cook asked, already back at the stove stirring something in preparation for the evening meal. “Did he know who you were?”

Sophie shook her head. “No, I am sure he did not. I kept my back to him and left immediately.” She looked from one kind face to the next, her heart still pounding wildly. “What am I to do if Lord Harrington sends for me?”

Mrs. Martins paused for a moment, thinking carefully. “I doubt he will have his friends visit him in the study, for that is not often his practice. What he will do is entertain them in the drawing room or dining room, even the library I suppose, but certainly not his study. You will be quite safe there, I should think.”

Sophie swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “Perhaps you are right, but I still shall feel as though I am sitting on the edge of a precipice every time the door opens!”

The cook expression grew sympathetic. “Could you perhaps move your desk?”

She shook her head. “Not unless the master permitted it.”

“You could ask him,” Mrs Martins suggested, tilting her head just a fraction. “I know you have been getting along rather well. He is not as offhand with you as he is with the rest of us, for whatever reason.”

A river of heat climbed up Sophie’s spine as she recalled how only just last evening she had been curled up in his arms.

“That’s right!” Mrs. Potts exclaimed, her eyes brightening. “Make up some excuse and have him hide you in the corner of the room.”

It was an idea at least. “It is already fairly alone in the corner of the room,” Sophie murmured, her heart beginning to slow its painfully quick pace. “Do you know how long my cousin intends to stay?” She looked up at Mrs. Martins, who shook her head.

“These gentlemen do not seem to have a great deal of pressing matters to attend to,” came the reply. “I do not know how long they will be with us. Usually, it is until they get somewhat bored or are required by their family to return home.”

That did not bring much hope to Sophie’s heart. “Then I shall have to endure in whatever way I can,” she murmured, sinking into despair. “For I currently have nowhere else to go.”

Mrs. Martins cleared her throat and put one hand on Sophie’s arm. “Or you could continue with what you had always intended and tell him the truth,” she reminded her, gently. “Take your rightful place as a lady of noble birth, and ask him to protect you. He will not refuse you, I am quite sure.”

“But my cousin is his friend!” Sophie exclaimed, feeling more desperate than ever. “He might listen to me but then discuss it with Malcolm. My cousin is more than able to convince him of his innocence and declare me quite mad which, given that I am dressed and working as a servant, might not seem such a far-flung idea. Malcolm is quite good at keeping up appearances. Even I did not see his true character for some time.” She put her head in her hands, pressing the tears back from her eyes. “I do not know what to do,” she finished, her voice by this time a breathy whisper.

There was a short silence, broken only by the sound of Mrs. Potts clattering about at the stove.

“Perhaps you need a little more faith in the master,” Mrs. Martins said, eventually. “I have seen more of his good character these last few days than ever before. It may be something of a risk to speak to him so plainly, but he may come through for you. Think about it, Sophie.”

Sophie sighed, not feeling even the slightest flicker of hope. “I will consider it,” she promised, her angst not lessening in the least. “Thank you, Mrs. Martins.”