Sophie held her breath as she stepped out of her bedchamber, clinging to the shadows. Mrs. Andrews had taken her bag down the stairs already, knowing that the master would not even glance at her, given that he was still determined to get at Sophie. That had been a few hours ago and, since then, Sophie had grown more and more nervous.

It was not as if she did not want to escape, but her worry was about simply leaving the house. If Malcolm caught her, dressed in her warmest clothes with her cloak and bonnet, then he’d know at once what she was doing. On top of that, heading out to an unknown estate, following the directions Mrs. Andrews had given her, was quite intimidating. She had no choice, however. It was either stay here and be forced against her will or leave and start an entirely new life.

It was a life she had no experience of, however, although Sophie knew she would give everything she had to it. As the daughter of a viscount, she wasn’t particularly well-to-do, but cleaning, scrubbing and cooking were not things that she ever had to do before. Sophie, however, was more than willing to learn. Besides which, the cook, maids, housekeeper, and other staff of this estate were the kindest people she had ever had the chance to come across. They had been her only friends in what had been very lonely months.

Softly padding down the staircase, moving as slowly as possible, Sophie paused as a sound caught her ears. She didn’t know where it had come from. Everything in her wanted to run, headlong, down the stairs and then down the servant's staircase, but to do so would be utter foolishness. Panic swirled in her heart as she continued to wait, her fingers tightening on the bannister.

The sound came again – and this time, Sophie recognized it for what it was. A snore. Malcolm was snoring but, to her surprise, the sound was coming from down the stairs and not from his bedchamber.

The house was eerily dark, with only the moonlight streaming through the windows as Sophie’s guide. Continuing down the staircase, she heard the snore again and realized, to her horror, that he was lying across the bottom step.

His head lolled, ungainly against the step, one arm draped across it, while the rest of him lay on the floor. His mouth was wide open, with the snores and occasional grunts emanating from it, his eyes completely closed. That did not mean, however, that Sophie was relieved at the sight of him. Instead, terror hit her hard, making her breath catch. She was going to have to step very close to him, if not over him, if she was to get past.

What if he was just pretending to be asleep? What if this was his way of trying to capture her? Her mind worked furiously as her body refused to move, simply staring down at Malcolm’s prone form.

Come on, Sophie, she told herself firmly, trying to bolster her courage. Just a few more steps and you can be free.

Forcing herself to move forward, she carefully moved closer to him, wincing as the stairs creaked beneath her feet. He didn’t even stir, the sound of his snores filling the hallway.

“Come now, miss!”

Startled, Sophie looked up, only to see one of the maids standing in her night things, holding out her hand towards Sophie. In the other hand, she held a single candle. The flickering light brought a reassurance to Sophie’s quailing heart, her flagging spirit slowly heartening.

“He’s been asleep for hours -- you won’t wake him,” the maid promised, her whispers carrying across the room to Sophie. “Now hurry!”

With a deep breath, Sophie carefully placed her feet down beside her cousin, feeling his breath catch her ankles. With a shudder, she moved down the last two stairs and away from him, lifting her skirts high. She kept waiting for his ungodly roar to reach her ears, for his strong hands to grasp at her shoulder, but nothing happened. The room was just as still as before, his snores still regular and uninterrupted. Without a backwards glance, Sophie hurried forward and clasped the maid’s hand. The girl led her down the back staircase towards the servants’ entrance. Mrs. Andrews was waiting for her, as was the housekeeper, Mrs. Smith.

“I don’t want any of you to be in danger from him,” Sophie whispered, as Mrs. Andrews enveloped her in a warm hug. “What if he blames you?”

“He won’t,” Mrs. Smith replied, calmly. “He’s a proud and arrogant man, who thinks he knows better than anyone else. I promise that he won’t consider for a moment that we’ve worked together to help you. We’ll all vouch for one another and say we’ve been sound asleep and that you must have done it yourself.”

Sophie tried to smile, but could only nod. “I can’t thank you all enough.”

“We’d never have left you here with him,” the cook replied, firmly. “He’s a menace and the way he’s been treating you is sickening. The sooner we can all find better positions, the happier I’ll be!”

Stepping outside into the cold night air, Sophie wondered if that would ever really be the case. Servants could very rarely find a new position without a reference which meant that, most likely, Malcolm’s staff were stuck here. She was more grateful to them than she could say, and felt guilty she would be taking a position herself, due to the kindness of women here and at the new estate.

“I’ll do what I can to help you leave here,” she promised, as the groomsman helped her up onto her horse – one of the only things Malcolm had allowed her to take from home. “I won’t ever forget you.”

The assembled servants didn’t say another word, too afraid that their voices might carry. Instead, they waved and Sophie, pressing her hand to her heart, drank in the sight of those who had helped her. Squeezing the horse’s sides, she made her way out of the gate.

* * *

The journey was miserable. It was cold and damp, and Sophie felt as though her very bones were beginning to freeze. She made every attempt to follow the directions Mrs. Andrews had given her, having only the light of the moon to show her the path. With every minute that passed, Sophie was quite sure that Malcolm would be following her, riding up behind her and grabbing the horse’s bridle. Then he would demand to know where she had been intending to go and would punish her for leaving. Such was the fear clutching at her heart that Sophie grew quite exhausted.

“He will no longer touch me,” she whispered, as the cold wind wrapped itself around her, finding the chinks in her coat and pushing itself inside. Sophie shivered violently, her eyes squinting into the darkness, seeing a single glowing light in the distance.

Was this the inn the cook had told her about? She had to hope it was. Patting her pocket, she felt the coins hidden inside, praying they would be enough to for a room as well as, hopefully, some food. The groom had instructed her to sell her horse so that it could not be found by Malcolm, and, although her heart squeezed at the thought of selling her beloved mare, Sophie knew she had no choice. She had thrown a shoe not far back and Sophie would be unable to pay a groom for the repair.

“Come on, old girl,” she murmured, patting the horse’s flanks. “Just a little bit longer and then we shall be quite safe.”

She was nearing the entrance when she saw a carriage pull up to the front of the inn. It was a fine carriage, one that spoke of wealth and nobility. Sophie hung back in the shadows as she saw a man step forward out of the carriage. He was tall, and the light of the wall sconce caught the fine features of his face, his dark hair flowing away from his forehead. Sophie took in the breadth of his shoulders and the muscle under his tight-fitting pantaloons, before scolding herself for her voyeuristic ways from the shadows.

What was such a man doing at an inn in the middle of the country? Did he know her cousin? She was certain she had never seen him before, but then, she had only been with Malcolm six months and had remained in the country all that time.

She went round the back to the stables, giving the reins of her mare to the groom who greeted her.

“Hello, Miss,” he said. “Is this the only horse?”

He looked around as if expecting her to have a companion with her.

“Yes,” she replied, not providing additional information.

“Very good then,” he said, a wide smile on his lips. “My apologies if no one was available to help you. The owner was not expecting the additional company this evening and is all in a flutter. A son of the Duke of Ware arrived unexpectedly.”

“I see,” she said, the name ringing round her head. He must be the son of the owner of the estate she was off to. She had not believed any of the family to be in residence, which was part of the draw of the posting. She did not want to have left Malcolm only to find herself fending off the attentions of another just like him. Perhaps, however, she was mistaken and he would be kind.

At any rate, she knew right now more than anything she needed sleep. She entered the inn, relieved to find the main entryway empty but for the wife of the innkeeper. She led Sophie to a room without event, where Sophie fell into a deep sleep for the first time in many nights.