Chapter 7
It had been a week since Jason’s nocturnal visit to her bedchamber. He had arranged for a maid to look after Oscar at night so that Sophia could get some proper rest and sleep. At first she had baulked at the notion. But her milk was still flowing and though she woke in the morning with aching breasts, after the first feed of the day, all was well. He was apparently sleeping through the night.
Jason was polite and courteous but made no further attempts to kiss her or more. Sophia reluctantly admitted to herself that she was a little disappointed in this, especially since there was little else to do, since the weather had not improved. There had been a few more snowfalls and absolutely no sign of a thaw.
She sighed wearily as she laid Oscar down for a nap, then stiffened at the sound of men’s voices and horses’ hooves outside. Her bedchamber window overlooked the stables, so she walked over slowly, making sure she would not be seen. She peeked around the heavy red velvet curtains and gasped when she saw Mr Benson and his man of business dismounting and handing the reins of their horses to the stable lad. The boy was pointing to the other side of the house, then he bowed and led the horses inside the stable.
It was midmorning. The men must have set off early to arrive here from Rutherford estate at such an hour. She hurried out of her room and stood on the balcony, out of sight of the front door and listened as the butler opened it.
“Mr Nigel Benson to see Lord Whitsnow. We went to the main house and a servant told us he was residing here for the time being.”
“Yes. I shall see if he is at home,” said Lang.
“Oh, righty-oh!” Octavius’s nephew seemed a little taken aback that he had not been invited straight in.
“No need, Lang, I am here. Mr Benson, you say? Do I know you?”
“Perhaps not. I am the nephew of the late Lord Rutherford.”
“So, the cousin of Lord Rutherford, I would presume.”
“Uh, yes, I suppose so.”
“Well I did hear that Lady Rutherford had a boy. My sister is friends with her and writes to me frequently. Far too frequently. She is never done boring me to death with gossip from town.”
“I see. Yes, well, the thing is, Lady Rutherford and her son are missing. With you being near neighbours, I hoped you had heard from them or seen them. I am terribly worried about them.”
There was a pause and Sophia stepped towards the stairs. If Lord Whitsnow was going to tell them she was here, then she would not hide away like a coward. But a hand over her mouth smothering her protest and one around her waist stopping her forward momentum, meant that she was plastered against a strong, hard male body.
“Do not do anything idiotic, Sophia. Whitsnow has it in hand.”
“Tell me, what does she look like? I do not recall even having met the chit.”
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, normal height and weight.”
“Sort of snubby little nose? Not a real beauty.”
“Not my sort,” Benson said. “But Uncle Octavius was desperate for an heir I suppose.”
“Hmm, I may have seen her in town a few times. Mayhap on his arm,” said Whitsnow. “I suppose she is adequate in the looks department if she is the one I am thinking about. No, I have not seen her. But then, I have been holed up here for weeks.”
“Just you?”
“No, my friend Lord Rose-Reid is here. I fear he is out just now. The chap gets restless being in the house all the time.”
Sophia pulled against Jason but he held firm.
“I see. Perhaps he has seen her.”
“I doubt it. He has a penchant for blondes. I suspect he would have mentioned her had he seen her. Come, have a drink before you go on your way.” And then Jason was dragging her into his room.
Once inside, he let her go and she stomped away from him.
“Well, of all the… how very rude.”
“Whitsnow has a reputation for being an ass and quite unpleasant. As you know, he is not particularly unpleasant. He was playing his part beautifully. Had you gone downstairs huffing and puffing, exclaiming that you are indeed the most beautiful creature on God’s green earth and that you give his friend a cockstand every time he looks at you, then you would have given away his ruse. He wants Benson to think he barely remembers you and was less than impressed when he did meet you. Now Benson will think he has an ally. Whitsnow is a devious blaggard and shall get much information out of the poor hapless sod.”
She blinked at him.
“He did not mean it?”
“No, he did not.”
“My nose…”
“Is beautiful. Just like the rest of you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I am hardly beautiful, my lord.”
“I think you are.”
“I must get back to Oscar. What if he cries?”
“Maggie is with him. She was coming up the servant’s stairs when Benson arrived. I sent her into your room to look after him in case I had to hide you. I can get you to be silent and I can always pass Oscar off as my bastard to some hapless maid.”
Her eyes popped open at this.
“He would know.”
“No, he would not. I do hate to break the news to you but to most men, one baby looks very much like another.”
“He looks like me.”
“Only to the trained observer. But to Benson he shall be a squalling little person with very little hair, who I claim as my own.” He shrugged.
“Are you certain?”
“Very.”
“Hmm.” She considered all that he had said. She moved over to the dressing table and picked up his shaving mirror and looked at her nose. He was behind her—his front pressed to her back.
“I told you. Beautiful.” And then his lips were on her neck.
“Jason?”
“Mmm?”
“What is a cockstand?”
He pulled her bottom back so she was pressing hard against his growing length. “That is turning into one.”
“Jason,” Her voice was half-moan, half protest.
“What.”
“I…” She pulled away and scowled at him. She walked over to the bed to create as much distance as possible from him. “You confuse me. After what happened in the stables I… well I enjoyed it and then a week passes and you treat me as if I am your sister.”
He adjusted himself in his breeches and gave a wry smile.
“My thoughts are anything but fraternal, Sophia.”
“Why have you been so distant?”
“I thought you wanted distance. I thought that is what ladies needed. Time to accept what was happening. Time to adjust.”
“All I want is to be held, Jason. I… I know it sounds silly, but I liked waking up to find you in my bed. Even though we did not do anything inappropriate.”
His smile was rueful. “I suppose you miss being married.”
She frowned.
“I never woke up to Octavius. We had separate bedchambers.”
“Oh, I see.”
She sighed and sat down on the bed, inspecting her hands. “You were the first man to make me feel wanted as anything other than a brood mare. I had assumed you desired me. But it seems I was wrong. Forgive me.”
She climbed onto the bed and began to scurry over it, preferring the indignity of this escape route from his bedchamber than having to walk past him. But he was round it and blocking her exit, moving onto the bed on his knees and forcing her to pull herself up and face him.
She laid her hands on his shoulders and then his lips descended on hers. Jason collapsed them down onto mattress and pillows and Sophia went willingly. Their legs tangled as much as her skirts would allow and he half covered her with his large frame.
“Jason!”
“I am shielding you in case those blaggards search the house.”
“Do you think your body will cover all my skirts and my entire body?”
“No, but I shall tell them you are my mistress.” He started to remove the pins from her hair. “They shall not recognise you with your hair down and your lips swollen from my kisses.”
“You are a terrible man, my lord. Such a bad influence on me.”
“Is it not wonderful?” He said before pulling the final pin from her hair and lifting her slightly to run his hands through it as he kissed her again. When he laid her back on the bed, he continued to kiss her, but the intensity had gone. He seemed content just to lie atop her, their mouths parrying, their hands exploring gently. It was as if he was trying to calm her and distract her from what was happening downstairs. He made no moves to undress her, and apart from lifting her skirts enough to run his hand up and down her thigh, he did not push any further.
The snick of the door sounded like a pistol shot. Sophia curled into Jason’s chest and he wrapped his arms around her.
“Good god, am I running a brothel now?” It was Lord Whitsnow.
“Go to the Devil, Whitsnow. It is none of your business.”
“It is if it is happening under my roof. You said you had a tendre for the lady. You did not say you were tumbling her.”
Jason adjusted Sophia’s skirts and Sophia glowered as Jason climbed off her. She was all too aware of the large bulge at the front of the man’s buckskin breeches. But at least they were fully clothed.
“I was not tumbling her. And if I were, it would be none of your damned business. She is not an innocent. I am not bedding a virgin under your roof. You have had your fair share of widows and don’t deny it.”
“I do not, but I do not tumble them under my friends’ roofs when my friends are protecting them.”
“So, when you were tumbling Lady Applegate at the House party two years ago in Cheshire, that was not at your friend’s house?”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“Gentlemen!” She had managed to put her hair back into a slightly respectable knot. They looked at her as if they had forgotten she was there. “I do not wish to know about your collective nocturnal… or not so nocturnal activities, if you do not mind. Lord Whitsnow, I do apologise for my behaviour. It was quite unbecoming of a recent widow though I am out of mourning. I shall refrain from any more such behaviour since it offends you so. Jason, I mean, Lord Rose-Reid, thank you for caring. I needed to be held and cared for and you did. Thank you. Can you tell me what happened with Mr Benson before I go back to my son?”
“They appear to be staying at the Rutherford estate. Obviously they claimed to be worried for the health and wellbeing of you and Oscar. He states he is worried that Beattie cannot be there for you because he resides between London and Herefordshire.” He stopped for a moment as Sophia made a very unladylike snort. “He says he wishes to help you run the estate until the boy is old enough.”
“And you believe him?”
Her ire was rising.
Whitsnow took a defensive step back and raised his hands is a gesture of surrender. “I did not say that I believed him, my lady. I simply stated what he told me.” But Sophia was now in high dudgeon. How dare he take Benson’s side?
“Do you think I would flee in the snow, with just a horse, a bag and my son if I was not desperate, my lord? Do you have any idea what could have happened to me? I could have been set upon by thieves and vagabonds. I could have been ravished or murdered. I did not even have a maid for respectability.”
The corner of Whitsnow’s mouth quirked and he coughed to cover his laugh. “I am aware of the dangers of travelling alone for a lady in this day and age, ma’am.”
“Yet you are struggling not to laugh at my situation. Men! You are all the same. You think because we are weak in body we are also weak in the mind. I know what Benson wants. And it is not to help run the Rutherford estate, my lord.”
“I am well aware of that, my lady. I am also aware that the law does not permit him to be Lord Rutherford’s guardian as the heir presumptive. That is why Beattie is his guardian. He does wish you harm. He was delighted that I told him I would let him know if his runaway step-aunt turned up, so he could bring her to heel. He thinks I am his ally now. That is what you want.”
“What do I do now?”
“You either hope that he does not come back to continue our new friendship, which I hope he does not and stay here, or you do what Reid here suggested and go with him to Yorkshire—assuming you trust yourselves with each other.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” said Jason, speaking for the first time in a while.
“Are you sure you shall not ravish her in the carriage?”
“If I do, it shall be with her consent, Whitsnow.”
Whitsnow raised an eyebrow and shrugged before turning. As he left, he spoke softly but Sophia was sure she heard him say “Good God, I am sure I hear the jangle of a leg-shackle.”