A sudden shriek rent the air, and Benjamin reined his horse in, making it rear up. Managing to keep his seat, he held on tightly, forcing his stallion to remain still. He could hear shouts, mingled with cries of fright which tore at his heart. It had to be Sophie.

Dismounting, he quickly tied his horse to a nearby tree and, making his way slowly forward, saw the carriage up ahead, just around the corner. The canopy of trees made it a gloomy patch of earth, adding to his anxiety. He could hear the sounds of a flowing river coming from somewhere close by, though he could not quite make out where it was coming from. Pressing himself against a large tree trunk, he carefully looked around it to get a closer look at the carriage.

Sophie was standing in the door of the carriage, one hand pressed to her neck. Blood seeped out between her fingers and Benjamin felt himself go cold with fear.

“Drop it,” he heard Dunstable snarl, seeing the man standing outside the carriage. “You don’t have the strength, Sophie.”

Benjamin moved closer, his feet barely making a sound of the soft grass. His stomach tightened in worry as he saw Sophie holding a long, silver knife in her other hand. It was shaking so badly that he wondered if she would be able to hold onto it for much longer, although it was the only thing between her and Lord Dunstable. She looked to be weakening by the second, clearly in a lot of pain from the knife wound to her neck.

Without thinking, he strode forward, his eyes focused on Lord Dunstable.

“Ho!” he roared, seeing Dunstable jump in surprise. “Get away from her, Dunstable!”

“Harrington,” Dunstable sneered, not moving an inch. “How unsurprising. Of course, you’re aware that I expected you to follow us.”

“But you did not expect Sophie to manage to display such strength as this and hold you back from your destination,” Benjamin replied, hurrying forward as fast as he could manage. “Although I will tear you limb from limb if you have hurt her.” His jaw clenched as he drew closer, seeing the redness of the blood in stark contrast to her pale skin.

Without warning, Dunstable lunged forward and hit Sophie’s arm, hard. She cried out and dropped the knife, stumbling back so that she fell into the carriage. Dunstable made to pick up the weapon but, without even thinking, Benjamin rushed forward and slammed himself into Dunstable. The man stumbled forward, while Benjamin struggled to regain his balance. The knife lay, glinting on the earth just behind him and Benjamin lunged for it, only for a fist to come flying into his face. Stunned, he stumbled back before falling over completely. His heart thundered in his chest as he tried to right himself, horrified that Dunstable might have retrieved his knife.

“Stop!”

Sophie’s shout echoed through the trees, sending crows flying from the branches in fright. Still a little dazed, Benjamin shook his head to clear his vision before getting to his feet, seeing Sophie standing, knife in hand, directly in front of Dunstable.

“I will never, never, go with you,” she said to at him, her voice loud and firm. “I am tired of being treated as though I am your plaything.”

Dunstable made to say something but Sophie took a step forward, her hand steady now as she held the knife out towards him. “Enough, cousin. I am finished with this.” She glanced down at the knife, before returning her gaze to Dunstable. Benjamin finally made it to her side, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“I am finished with all of this,” she said, a little more quietly. “You will never have me, Dunstable. This is over.”

And, so saying, she flung the knife as far away as she could. It was not a perfect throw by any means, but it was far enough that it disappeared over the edge of the path, down to where the river flowed. At the same time, Dunstable let out a scream of rage and looked, for one moment, as if he might launch himself at Sophie. Benjamin stepped in front of her, his free hand finding her own cold one and holding onto it as though it were his only lifeline.

“Go, Dunstable,” he growled, his brows furrowing. “Sophie is not to be yours. You have lost. Go, or it will be all the worse for you.”

Slowly, he began to back away, taking Sophie with him. Dunstable’s face was, by this time, a deep red, and Benjamin could not be sure what it was he intended to do. He could take no risks, could not attempt to turn his back on him.

“Go to my horse,” he muttered to Sophie. “Go now. Quickly. It is just around the corner.”

She left him, hurrying away, and Benjamin saw Dunstable’s eyes follow her along the path. The evil gleam within them frightened Benjamin more than he would ever admit. It was as though the man was possessed, gone mad over what he could not have.

The moment Dunstable ran for him, Benjamin was ready. He ran forward to meet his charge, ducked under Dunstable’s right arm as it came out to greet him and pummeled the man full in the ribs. Dunstable cried out and staggered back, but Benjamin did not wait for him to get his bearings. With two hard blows, he had Dunstable lying on the ground, completely unconscious. The man had been too desperate in his attack, too hasty and careless.

Benjamin put his hands on his knees and drew in three long breaths, calming himself as well as ensuring that Dunstable was, truly, unconscious. There was no movement other than the slow rise and fall of the man’s chest and so, no longer afraid that he might rise to attack him again, Benjamin turned to look for Sophie, finding her not at his horse but rather with her own mare a short ways away, watching him.

She looked so weary his heart ached for her. Her eyes were tired, her neck stained with blood. She was resting against her horse who, to her credit, was standing tall and strong, as if realizing her lady needed her.

“Sophie,” he called, running towards her. “Oh, my dear Sophie.”

The moment he reached her, she clung to him as though they had been parted for a great many days. Her hands wound around his neck, her face pressed into his shoulder and Benjamin could do nothing but hold her tightly. Sobs racked her body, the shock of what had occurred taking over. Wanting to ease her suffering, Benjamin whispered comforting words into her hair, rubbing her back gently.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, stepping back and looking down at the cut to her neck. It was not a particularly deep cut but it had bled badly. The sight of it sparked fury in his veins, making him wish that he had thrown the man, face down, into the river. “He did cut you, the braggart! I should – ”

“Take me home, Benjamin.”

Sophie’s beseeching cry had his heart rend into pieces. His anger died away like a doused candle flame and, in a moment, he had her up on his stallion.

Lord Haversham, accompanied by his groomsmen, rounded the corner in that moment, and he gratefully welcomed the man, who looked quite shocked as he took in the scene. Haversham promised to see to Dunstable and one of his groomsmen would bring Sophie’s mare home.

“Your cousin will not return to hurt you,” Benjamin promised Sophie, before pulling himself up behind her and leaving his friend to deal with the mess. He wanted only to concern himself with Sophie, who sat proud on his horse, despite all that she had gone through.

He said nothing else, but pulled her head back against his chest. He knew she didn’t want him, didn’t love him, but he vowed to do all he could to protect her in the future. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He cared for her. He had never experienced such feelings before, but as they blossomed in his chest and he held her tight against him, he realized with a shock what he felt for her. He loved her. He loved her gentle spirit, her compassion, her willingness to overlook all of his flaws and find the good in him.

He didn’t want to scare her by pouring out the words to her now, overwhelming her after all she had been through. He settled for wrapping an arm tightly around her, as he set the horse to return home.

“Oh, Benjamin,” she whispered, finally sagging back against him as weakness took over her body. She did not say another word and Benjamin held her tightly as they rode back, the love he had for her washing all through him until he could think of nothing else.

* * *

Sophie clung to Benjamin as he led her inside, her body still slightly shaking. Benjamin shouted orders left and right, scooping her up to carry her upstairs to her room, despite her protests, with apparently great ease.

She was tired. So tired. Weak, from all that had happened and in pain from the bruises and cuts Dunstable had inflicted on her. But yet, despite all of this, Sophie knew she was safe. She was back home. There was nothing to worry her, nothing to make her afraid for her life. She was with Benjamin and that meant safety.

The staff who had eyed her warily on her first day now did everything possible to help her, as they had come to accept her. Sophie saw Mrs. Martins directing maids here and there in her room, giving her fresh sheets on the bed, soft towels warming by the fire and the promise that a bath was being drawn for her. Sophie made to protest but, as Benjamin set her down carefully in a chair by the fire, he shook his head, and pressed her hand gently.

“Trust me, love,” he whispered, gently. “You need this. Mrs. Martins will see to the wound on your neck and will decide if you need a doctor.”

“You are not leaving me?” Sophie said at once, clasping his fingers tightly. “Don’t leave me, Benjamin.”

She knew it was not her place to ask, after all that she had put him through, all he had done for her already. But she could not think about him leaving her alone. She wanted nothing more than for him to take her in his arms and show her that everything would be all right.

Something flashed in his eyes, although his gaze softened. “As much as I would like to stay, I cannot,” he said, softly, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I do not think Mrs. Martins would think it at all proper during your bath.”

Sophie flushed, loosening her grip on Benjamin’s hand. “No, I suppose you cannot. But, Benjamin, please …. please, don’t go far.”

“I will be back the moment you are ready to receive me,” he promised, leaning forward to brush his lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes, realizing she had no desire to pull back from his kiss. “I have some correspondence to see to, but it will not take me long. You will be quite safe here, with Mrs. Martins.”

“I know,” Sophie whispered, hating that he had to leave her side, even for a short time. “Thank you, Benjamin.”

He smiled into her eyes, his gaze drifting to her neck and back up to her eyes. “You have shown more strength than I would have ever expected,” he said, softly. “I am terribly proud of you.”

Sophie closed her eyes to stop tears from slipping down her cheeks. She wanted him more than she could ever dream. When she had seen him come round the corner, her heart had felt full to bursting at the relief that coursed through her and the love she felt for him. She felt him squeeze her hand gently once more, before his footsteps made their way past her chair and towards the door. She heard him say something to Mrs. Martins before the door closed tightly.

“There, now,” Mrs. Martins murmured, coming over towards Sophie. “You have been through a great ordeal, have you not? How glad I am that you are all right!” She gently tipped Sophie’s head to one side, hissing through her teeth at the sight of the mark on Sophie’s neck. “Goodness, but he cut you badly. It stretches almost from your collarbone to your jaw!”

“It is not too painful now,” Sophie replied, wondering if the shock of it all had, somehow, lessened the discomfort. “He was going to take me to the deepest part of the woodland, so I knew I had to act.” Talking through what had happened did not bring her any additional pain, recounting it as though she were merely an outsider who had watched the entire thing unfold.

“He clenched the knife tightly and, as I tried to grasp it, he sliced his arm upwards. I tried to dodge out of the way but the carriage was small and so it caught my skin.” Sophie closed her eyes, not quite sure what had happened next. “I think I must have knocked him from the carriage as I fell, trying to avoid the knife, for the next thing I knew he was on the ground outside and the knife was on the floor of the carriage.”

Mrs. Martins put one gentle hand on Sophie’s shoulder, her face lined with both anxiety and sympathy. “You are incredibly brave, my dear.”

“Not really,” Sophie replied, her voice growing hoarse. “I had no other choice. I could not allow him just to use me as he pleased. I had to try to defend myself.”

“And the master came just as you were doing so?”

Sophie nodded, relief covering her like a warm blanket. “I’m very grateful. If he had not come when he did... “

Mrs Martins smiled, even though her eyes were sparkling with tears. “Do not think of it, dear. You will be a wonderful mistress in this house, I am quite sure.” She sniffed once, wiped at her eyes, and smiled.

“Oh no,” said Sophie, her eyes wide. “I must still speak to Lord Harrington, but I do not think --”

“None of that now,” Mrs. Martins cut her off, in a much brisker tone. “You should have seen the man, first when he found you had left and then when he determined you may still be in danger from Lord Dunstable. I’ve never seen him in such a state. Now, If you’ll just come this way, dear. The bath should be prepared for you now.”

Sophie managed a wobbly smile in return and rose to her feet, following Mrs Martins from her bedchamber into a smaller room where there was a steaming bathtub waiting for her. Scents of lavender and rose filled her nostrils, helping her to slowly relax. There was a warm fire in the grate and a screen in the corner.

“I have a maid here to help you undress and wash your hair,” Mrs. Martins continued, as she shut the door behind them both. “I’ll take your things straight away to be washed.”

Sophie smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs. Martins.”

The housekeeper returned her smile, her expression gentle. “You are most welcome, Miss Sophie. Welcome home.”