Page 93

He leaned forward and extended a hand, grabbing her by her bonds and pulling her closer to him and out of her underground prison.

He hugged her as if it had been years since they last saw each other, and she clung to him as if she had been lost in the wilderness and had finally found her way back to his safe embrace.

They were both soaked to the bone and splattered with mud, but it was the warmest she had ever felt, knowing he had come to rescue her. It didn’t feel like weakness at all, now.

“Sophia… your hair…” he said, stroking his fingertips over her sodden locks.

“A canvas sack will do that to you,” she said with a soft giggle as she hid her face in his chest. “You aren’t that well put together yourself.”

He hugged her even tighter, pressing a kiss to those dirty locks of hers.

“I apologize for my appearance,” he managed to utter, a hint of humor in his voice.

Sophia pulled back slightly to look at him. “Don’t. I actually prefer you like this.” She raised her hand and played with his messy wet hair.

“Sounds like we could have avoided a lot of trouble if I had looked bedraggled from the start.”

“Not bedraggled, butrugged.Honestly, I could see it.” She laughed, but she ended up coughing.

Thomas quickly released her and undid his coat buttons, a look of fervent worry on his face. Sophia tried to protest, but something caught her attention, and she quickly realized what she was looking at.

“Thomas! Your shoulder!”

The usually pristine white shirt he wore was marred by splotches of deep crimson, and there was a hole in his waistcoat from which more blood was seeping. Sophia wanted to believe he had spilled claret on himself, but she knew better.

“It’s nothing.” He swung his coat around and draped it over her shoulders, covering her. “You are in a more dire situation right now.”

“You are bleeding!” she cried. “Don’t be so foolish!”

“I found the keys! I found—” James interrupted their conversation as he stomped down the steps and saw the two of them. “Oh… you found her? How did you open the cellar door?”

Thomas gestured towards all the wood splinters around him. “I asked it very nicely.”

“I’m sure it deserved it.” James flashed a smile at Sophia. “I’m glad you’re in one piece, dear sister.”

She smiled back. “As am I, though I wish the same could be said for my husband.”

“Ah, about that.” James pointed up the stairs. “I didn’t find bandages, so we should probably hurry you both to a physician.”

Thomas tried to move her towards the steps, but she dug in her heels. “What about Frederick? Is he still up there?”

“He’s unconscious, but he’s all right. I don’t think he’ll be getting up anytime soon,” James replied.

Thomas felt a burden he hadn’t known he was carrying being lifted off his shoulders. No matter what, he didn’t want to have murder on his conscience, even a justified one.

He started undoing Sophia’s bonds as James watched, presumably not to crowd the already cramped subterranean space. The rope left clear marks on her skin, and Thomas cursed her brother’s presence, for if James hadn’t been there, he would have kissed each one better.

“What happened?” Sophia asked quietly.

“He shot me, I knocked him down,” Thomas replied, though it was far more complicated than that.

In his head, visions of two shadows—his and Frederick’s—clashing in the darkness swirled. The lantern had shattered on impact with the roof, spilling hot oil on Sophia’s wicked uncle, giving Thomas the distraction he needed to gain the upper hand.

Despite the pain in his shoulder and the weakness it had created in his dominant hand, he somehow managed to grab Frederick and land three solid punches, knocking the bastard out. The upstairs room had filled with the scent of rusting iron and whale oil—a vile perfume that Thomas wouldn’t soon forget. Nor would he forget the image of Frederick lying there on the slick floor, coughing and groaning in agony, writhing feebly as his skin blistered from the burning oil.

And all I thought while staring at him was… how utterly pointless.

He shook the memory away; it could plague him later.