When Sophie woke, the first thing she felt was panic. She had overslept! There were duties to perform and….

Pulling back the linen bedsheets, Sophie swung her legs around, only to discover that she was not in the room she had thought. It was not her servant’s room, nor her small, uncomfortable bed, but rather the large, beautifully decorated bedroom that Mrs. Martins had led her to last evening. Floral patterns adorned the wallpaper and carpet, the draperies of the bed a dusky pink.

She also realized that her ankle was still aching.

Relief coursed through her veins as she pulled herself back into bed, drawing the covers up to her chin and settling her head back on the pillow. Warmth began to seep back into her limbs as she lay there, the niggling of fear still creeping at the edges of her mind, but she told herself to crush it. For the first time in years, she should have faith that she was truly safe.

She had nothing to fear any longer. There was no one coming to try and take something from her she did not want to give. There was no threat of violence. She was no longer alone.

She thought of Lord Harrington’s words the night before. If she so chose, she could be his wife. He had offered his hand to her freely. She frowned, however, as she thought of the reasons he had provided to her. He would marry her to protect her reputation as well as her body from Dunstable.

It was for better reasons than many married, but is this what she truly wanted? Now that she had come to know him, the man he truly was, she wanted more than that from him. She wanted him to marry her because he cared for her, and wanted more than her body. She wanted his love, she realized with a start, as she became aware of the depth of her own feeling toward him. She loved him.

When he had rushed into the study last night, she had felt a crushing relief. She trusted in him, knew he would protect her. Despite what he said of himself, she saw the man he was, the man he was growing to be. He was a man who saw the good in a person, who had simply needed a purpose to keep himself from throwing his life away.

He was all she could have asked for. If she chose, he could be her family, her protector, and her lover. That brought a rush of heat to her core, and Sophie did not deny that the thought of being in his arms again was a wonderful one. Was it to be, however? Should she hold him to his promise of marriage, or let him go?

She knew she wasn’t worthy of him. He was the son of a duke, and she the daughter of a mere viscount, who had acted as his maid, for goodness sake. He was marrying her out of a sense of duty, to prove to himself and his father he was not the man he once was. That was not the basis of the marriage she now wanted with him. She may have depths of emotion for him, but enough that she did not want to tie him to her if he did not feel the same. But if she were not to stay with him … where else was she to go?

She would have to make her way to London, perhaps, and find a position as a governess, or perhaps a bookkeeper. She had a few funds which would allow her to find her way there but she would have to quickly locate a place of work. For all that she could plan though, in her heart she did not want to leave the man she realized she had grown to love.

Sophie sighed and determined she would think on this more in a few hours. For now, she would appreciate the safety she felt in this bed, in this home. Snuggling into her covers a little more, Sophie allowed herself to drift back into sleep.

* * *

Some hours later, Sophie rose and dressed, choosing to breakfast in her room. The maid who attended stared wide-eyed at her for a moment, embarrassing Sophie. Of course, she had worked alongside these girls for a some time, only now to reveal that she was, in fact, a lady.

“I do apologize for my deception,” she murmured, as the maid set down the breakfast tray. “I hid my true self only because it was necessary, I assure you.”

“Oh, we bear you no ill will, Sarah – I mean, Miss Carmichael,” the maid said, blushing furiously at her mistake. “The master spoke to Mrs. Martins and then Mrs. Martins told us everything. We understand why you had to do what you did.”

Sophie managed a smile. “I am relieved to hear it, I must say. And it is Sophie.”

The maid smiled back at her. “Everyone knows you’re a good-hearted soul and, from what Mrs. Martins says, you’ve been through some trying times. We’re all so glad for you, Miss Sophie, truly.” She bobbed a quick curtsy before leaving the room as Sophie smiled after her. The staff had forgiven her already, it seemed. Mrs. Martins would have been careful in what she said, Sophie was quite sure.

Finishing her warm chocolate, Sophie got to her feet and brushed down her skirts, feeling more than ready for the day.

The fact that Malcolm was gone from the house was an overwhelming feeling, as was the fact that the staff seemed to have forgiven her and she no longer had to pretend to be someone she was not. All that was left was to determine what to do about Lord Harrington’s proposition.

Opening the door to her bedroom, Sophie paused to straighten the embroidered white shawl around her shoulders before making her way to the study. Her leg did not hurt half as much as before and, so long as she took care, her wrapped ankle did not protest too much when she put weight on it.

Sophie was determined to put herself to some useful endeavor, if nothing else, to show her gratefulness. She did not want to neglect the accounts, not when she knew Benjamin found them somewhat difficult, and she was so close to finishing her review. Besides which, she had not spoken to him of the mistakes she had found, although she was now quite certain that they were not simply accidental.

On finding no one within the study, Sophie carefully made her way to her desk in the corner of the room, sat down, and began to continue with her work.

“Sophie!”

Glancing up, her quill pausing in its work, Sophie could not help but laugh at the astonished expression on Benjamin’s face.

“Whatever is the matter?” she asked, as he came over and took the quill from her hand before pulling her up to stand next to him.

He shook his head, his gaze unreadable. “You do not need to do the accounts any longer,” he said quietly, his hands going around her waist to help her away from the desk. “You do not work for me anymore. You never should have been working for me.”

“I really do not mind,” she said, “it’s the least I can do…”

“Sophie,” he stopped her. “We must speak of your -- our -- future.”

She nodded and stood, finding herself quite close to him, feeling the heat through his linen shirt. She looked up, and her face came just inches away from his. She licked her lips as her pulse began racing.

“You don’t shrink from me today,” he commented.

“No,” she responded, bowing her head. “My apologies. Last night I was … I couldn’t help but …”

“I understand,” he said. “A man such as me is not so different than Lord Dunstable. I should have realized how you would feel.”

“That is not it at all!” she exclaimed. “You would not press unwanted attentions on me --”

“But I did. I went so far I caused you to slap me.”

“And you stopped,” she said. “That would have only redoubled the efforts of my cousin.”

He looked down at her, at the trust in her eyes, and he reached down to cup her cheek. “I am so very sorry for what you have been through.”

He began to speak, but Sophie tilted her head to him and pressed her mouth against his gently. When he groaned, she could not help but melt against him, her arms going around his neck almost of their own accord. She lost herself when she was with him. She forgot to worry about the future, where she would go, what she would do, and that she would be alone once more.

The heat from his body burned her, setting her alight as he angled his head. His hand reached between them, cupping her breast, stroking her through the thin fabric of her dress. She gave a soft moan, and his hands slid behind her, cupping her backside as he lifted her up on the desk against his stirring manhood, that longed too --

He pushed away from her, breathing heavily.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed as Sophie tried to slow her pulse.

“Whatever is the matter?” she asked breathily, her fingers still twined around his lapels. He looked at her, her eyes glazed, her lips reddened by his attentions and her dress askew.

“After everything you’ve been through, I cannot keep my hands off you for one day,” he muttered in disgust. “I suppose it proves I am the man everyone believes me to be.”

“Was I not the one to press my attentions on you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He shook his head. “Well, at the very least, I suppose I cannot ruin you, as we are now betrothed.”

She angled her head as she looked up at him. “And that is why you feel you should marry me, to save me from ruination?”

“Did we not already discuss this last night?” he said in frustration. “Of course! I told my father I would show him I am not the man he thought. It seems he was correct in his assumptions but the least I can do is prove to him that now I will take responsibility for my actions.”

Her eyes fell to the floor before they snapped up to meet his.

“I shall be no one’s responsibility, my lord,” she said, anger in her voice.

“What do you mean?” he asked, surprised at the bite in her tone.

“I mean that I do not wish to be a burden, or to owe anyone anything. I apologize for using your home as a safe haven. You did not ask for my deception, but I did not ask for marriage. I will not have you take me as a bride out of misplaced guilt over kisses in the study. My reputation does not matter to me, but rather that I am free from my cousin. You have allowed that to be so, and I thank you for that. But please, do not worry yourself about me any longer.”

She moved to walk past him, and he reached out to grab her arm.

“Sophie --”

“Don’t touch me!” she said, jumping away from him, reacting without thinking before seeing the shock and dismay on his face. “I am sorry, I didn’t mean --”

“No need to explain. I understand,” he said, turning his face away from her. “Go if that’s what you want. I’ll contact my father and have him arrange a place for you in the city, where you will be safe. Go to the parlor if you’d be more comfortable there.”

Tears sprang into her eyes and she watched him as he took his seat in the chair behind his desk. He looked confused, and it tugged at her heart, but she refused to allow herself to give into her emotions. He felt a responsibility toward her and obviously desire, but not love or even affection anymore, which is what she needed. She turned and left the room, her skirts but a whisper as she walked out the door.