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Still stunned by the sudden change of atmosphere, and with reflexes most likely dulled by alcohol, the man holding the girl did nothing.
“I don’t want to fight you,” Benedict said, crossing his arms, “but I will. And I can assure you that the three-to-one odds don’t frighten me.”
“Now, see here,” Cavender said angrily. “You can’t come here and order me about on my own property.”
“It’s your parents’ property,” Benedict pointed out, reminding them all that Cavender was still rather wet behind the ears.
“It’s my home,” Cavender shot back, “and she’s my maid. And she’ll do what I want.”
“I wasn’t aware that slavery was legal in this country,” Benedict murmured.
“She has to do what I say!”
“Does she?”
“I’ll fire her if she doesn’t.”
“Very well,” Benedict said with a tiny quirk of a smile. “Ask her then. Ask the girl if she wants to tup with all three of you. Because that is what you had in mind, isn’t it?”
Cavender sputtered as he fought for words.
“Ask her,” Benedict said again, grinning now, mostly because he knew his smile would infuriate the younger man.  “And if she says no, you can fire her right here on the spot.”
“I’m not going to ask her,” Cavender whined.
“Well, then, you can’t really expect her to do it, can you?” Benedict looked at the girl. She was a fetching thing, with a short bob of light brown curls and eyes that loomed almost too large in her face. “Fine,” he said, sparing a brief glance back at Cavender. “I’ll ask her.”
The girl’s lips parted slightly, and Benedict had the oddest sensation that they had met before. But that was impossible, unless she’d worked for some other aristocratic family. And even then, he would have only seen her in passing. His taste in women had never run to housemaids, and in all truth, he tended not to notice them.
“Miss ...” He frowned. “I say, what’s your name?”
“Sophie Beckett,” she gasped, sounding as if there were a very large frog caught in her throat.
“Miss Beckett,” he continued, “would you be so kind as to answer the following question?”
“No!” she burst out.
“You’re not going to answer?” he asked, his eyes amused.
“No, I do not want to tup with these three men!” The words practically exploded from her mouth.
“Well, that seems to settle that,” Benedict said. He glanced up at the man still holding her. “I suggest you release her so that Cavender here may relieve her of employment.”
“And where will she go?” Cavender sneered. “I can assure you she won’t work in this district again.”
Sophie turned to Benedict, wondering much the same thing.
Benedict gave a careless shrug. “I’ll find her a position in my mother’s household.” He looked over at her and raised a brow.  “I assume that’s acceptable?”
Sophie’s mouth dropped open in horrified surprise. He wanted to take her to his home!
“That’s not quite the reaction I expected,” Benedict said dryly. “It will certainly be more pleasant than your employment here.  At the very least, I can assure you you won’t be raped. What do you say?”
Sophie glanced frantically at the three men who had intended to rape her. She really didn’t have a choice. Benedict Bridgerton was her only means off the Cavender property. She knew she couldn’t possibly work for his mother; to be in such close proximity to Benedict and still have to be a servant would be more than she could bear. But she could find a way to avoid  that later. For now she just needed to get away from Phillip.
She turned to Benedict and nodded, still afraid to use her voice. She felt as if she were choking inside, although she wasn’t certain whether that was from fear or relief. “Good,” he said. “Shall we be off?” She gave a rather pointed look at the arm that was still holding her hostage.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Benedict snarled. “Will you let go of her or will I have to shoot your damned hand off?”
Benedict wasn’t even holding a gun, but the tone of his voice was such that the man let go instantly.
“Good,” Benedict said, holding his arm out toward the maid. She stepped forward, and with trembling fingers placed her  hand on his elbow.
“You can’t just take her!” Phillip yelled.
Benedict gave him a supercilious look. “I just did.”
“You’ll be sorry you did this,” Phillip said.
“I doubt it. Now get out of my sight.”
Phillip made a huffy sound, then turned his friends and said, “Let’s get out of here.” Then he turned to Benedict and added, “Don’t think you shall ever receive another invitation to one of my parties.”
“My heart is breaking,” Benedict drawled.
Phillip let out one more outraged snort, and then he and his two friends stalked back to the house.
Sophie watched them walk away, then slowly dragged her gaze back to Benedict. When she’d been trapped by Phillip and his leering friends, she’d known what they wanted to do to her, and she’d almost wanted to die. And then, all of a sudden, there was Benedict Bridgerton, standing before her like a hero from her dreams, and she’d thought maybe she had died, because why else would he be here with her unless she was in heaven?