Page 24 of The Duke’s Cursed Virgin (Cursed Brides #3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

S ophia thought that Theo would no longer contact her. There were times when she thought that he would let her suffer some more. She should not want him to send her more messages and the black carriage, but she did.

“Enjoy your little game, sweetheart. But next time, it’ll be my turn to punish you, and you’ll love every second of it.”

Would he really punish her? She was both thrilled and afraid of the possibilities. She would not have thought she would accept another invitation if not for Lady Holton’s revelation about his mother.

So, was she only visiting him because of pity?

No. Of course not.

And here she was, a week after her encounter with Anthony, about to step out of the Holtons’ home at midnight.

Like before, the black carriage was ready. The same coachman sat waiting for her. He wore black, and she matched the whole affair by donning a black coat over her black dress. She didn’t even bother wearing anything fancy. It was simply an old plain dress with no frills, the type she wore in Scotland when walking around in the yard.

Theo would tear it off her, anyway.

Despite everything, she still felt anticipation. Heart racing. Fingers trembling. It had been a long time, and she wondered how she would react to his presence once more. The last time they met, they weren’t exactly friendly.

But this tryst wasn’t just about meeting Theo and her need to kiss him again. It was also a way to escape troubling thoughts of her uncle.

Inside the carriage, she settled into the cushioned seat, trying to relax. There was always something surreal about traveling through the quiet London streets. She had never thought she’d be the sort to be out after midnight.

Sophia exhaled sharply. She reminded herself that tonight was about forgetting. She wouldn’t bother to fight with Theo. She would not force anything that wasn’t there between them.

Difficult promises. But she was willing to follow through on them.

She just did not know that the night had a different plan for her. She had fallen into a lull of false security as the carriage traveled the same familiar road. Looking outside, she could already see the outline of Theo’s large estate and the faint signs of candlelight that awaited her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, and all she could see was Theo.

“Where is this going, Theo?” she whispered to herself, wondering if she was readily submitting herself to heartbreak.

Suddenly, the carriage lurched, throwing her forward. She threw out her arms, barely stopping herself from colliding with the wall. The carriage tilted to the side, and the horses neighed loudly in panic.

She felt a sting in her shoulder. Everything felt like a nightmare coming alive, but she still could hear the coachman trying to calm the horses.

Then, the carriage stopped tumbling.

Was she dead?

There was an eerie quiet beyond the snorting horses. She lay there, stunned and hurt. She winced as she attempted to push herself up.

Sophia tried to cry out for help, but no sound came out. She whimpered as she dragged herself up to the door, which was now above her head. She eased her body out, trying to ignore the pain. The cool air felt like fire on her skin.

“My Lady! Are you hurt?” the coachman called out.

She looked up to find him pale and frantic. He offered her his hand, and she took it so that he could haul her out of the fallen carriage.

“I-I am, but I don’t think it’s serious,” she said, though she was terrified of the blooming pain in her shoulder.

There was something damp under her black dress—perhaps blood—but it was barely visible through the dark fabric.

“My Lady, I believe the wheels were tampered with. I inspected the carriage. The bolts are loose.”

That caught her attention and fueled her fear. The carriage was tampered with.

No…

She felt a chill run down her spine, and goosebumps rose all over her arms and the nape of her neck.

It wasn’t just an accident. Somebody tried to kill her. The accident that took her father’s life happened six years ago.

There was only one explanation. One week ago, her uncle caught her talking to Mr. Barlow. What did it mean? Did he really have something to hide?

The fear was slowly dissipating and was quickly being replaced by anger. Her fingers curled into tight fists, her fingernails digging deep into her palms.

He suspected her.

Whatever happened tonight was either a warning or an attempt on her life.

Theo paced the dining room. Sophia was taking longer than usual. It was possible that she had decided not to come. His frustration grew.

What kind of man was he, simply waiting for destiny to come to him? Why was he letting her make the decisions?

The words he uttered to her came back to haunt him. He was cruel. It had never been a problem for him. The women who had warmed his bed before Sophia were painfully aware of what he was like, and they had welcomed that side of him. Theo didn’t think Sophia should suffer the same.

He walked out of the back door and sprinted to the front. Anxiety filled him. Perhaps he had lost her. Perhaps it was for the best. It would be more practical to choose another widow to warm his bed, but that was not what he wanted.

Then came the sound of hooves pounding the earth, merging with the thunderous rumble of carriage wheels.

Was she in that carriage?

It sounded like usual, at first. His ears caught something different, though.

What? An anomaly?

The crack of wood. The carriage could be loud near his estate during quiet hours like this, but it had never been this loud—ear-splitting, even.

He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut on impulse. He could see how the coachman struggled to regain control. The carriage lurched to the side and toppled, its front wheels spinning in the air. When Theo saw one of the wheels roll away and the horses neighing in sheer terror, he bolted forward.

He ran .

There was no more time to think. The awful sounds were still reverberating in front of his gate when he took off at full speed, going against the cold wind and the hammering in his chest.

“Sophia!” he bellowed, no longer able to hide his raw fear.

The coachman emerged from the rubble. Theo recognized the man as one of his own. His eyes were wide, and his skin was pale and bruised.

“Your Grace, I don’t know what happened. The wheels gave way!”

Theo rushed past him, reaching the broken carriage. He saw Sophia sitting on the side, her eyes still wide with shock. Her hand was pressed to her other arm.

She was in pain. Still, he was relieved to see her alive. The realization shook his whole being, weakening his knees. They buckled underneath him, and he found himself kneeling in front of her.

“Are you hurt?’ he demanded, cupping her face in his hands. His eyes scanned her whole body for injuries.

“I-I think I’m all right except for some bruising, and my arm hurts. It’s just the tumble,” she stammered, shaking her head. Her eyes remained wide.

Theo rose and lifted her with him, holding her close to his body. It was not how he imagined he’d hold her, but he had missed her. It had been a long time.

Now, he was struck with the fear that she’d disappear. That she’d be gone.

He looked at the carriage. His carriages were well-maintained, and his men were trained and loyal. Could it have been sabotage? Who could have done this? Why would they hurt Sophia?

A carriage accident.

He suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. Sophia was ostracized as one of the Cursed because of the carriage accident that took her father’s life almost seven years ago. Could this event be connected to the first one?

“Did anyone come near the carriage?” Theo asked the coachman.

“I didn’t see anybody suspicious near the carriage, Your Grace,” the coachman said, his voice trembling. He looked like he would burst into tears at any moment.

Fury burned inside Theo. Somebody had tried to hurt Sophia—or worse.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, turning his attention back to Sophia.

He no longer asked for permission. He lifted her into his arms. She didn’t complain. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Once inside, Theo placed Sophia on the couch near the hearth. It was the first time they headed to the drawing room first. He let her rest while he found some supplies to clean her bruises and any possible wounds.

He stripped her of her clothes. Tonight, he did it tenderly, afraid to hurt her any further. He noticed the dampness on her left arm. He took a pair of scissors to cut the fabric and see what was under it.

“It’s a good thing that I chose an old dress for tonight,” she jested, even as she winced.

“You find humor in this?” Theo asked, his voice sharp with anger.

He was not angry with her. He was angry with whoever had tried to hurt her.

His nostrils flared when he saw the cuts on her arm. It was not serious, but it looked worse than it was. He wiped the blood and cleaned the area with some brandy.

She was brave. She did not flinch.

After the wound had been bandaged and the two had calmed down a bit, he asked her the question that had been burning in his mind.

“Are you going to tell me what all that was about?”

“Your coachman said that the carriage wheels were tampered with. I believe it was my uncle—the Marquess of Foxmere,” she admitted.

“Foxmere?” he echoed.

Sophia nodded. “Yes, I am referring to that uncle. A week ago, I was walking around London with Aunt Mary. We were shopping. Well, she was, but I suspect she simply wanted me out of the house. Then, I saw the name of my father’s former accountant across the road. So, I thought I’d better see if I can find out more about how my uncle handles his affairs. I didn’t know that he had an appointment on the same day. We saw each other by the door, and while he pretended to be friendly with me, I knew that he suspected something.”

“Then, days later, your carriage is sabotaged,” Theo growled.

His jaw was clenched hard. He could not believe what he was hearing. He had always thought that the Marquess of Foxmere was a pompous ass, but not a murderer.

“I didn’t think that he would do anything about it, at least not so soon,” Sophia sighed heavily.

“He did something, and you know that he won’t stop until something happens to you,” Theo said. His hand slid down her uninjured arm, squeezing gently. “There’s something that can be said about a man who was willing to hurt his own niece that way. He’s the sort who would be willing to go further.”

“I know,” Sophia said softly. “We still do not have proof that it’s him. Just hunches and instinct. Maybe even mere coincidences.”

“It’s enough for us to suspect him. It’s enough for me to know that you are in danger,” Theo insisted.

“What if there are other explanations for the carriage falling apart? It did take me right to your gate.”

“Sophia,” he growled, “someone tried to hurt you.”

Theo had never felt anything as primal before—the possessive way he reacted to Sophia. He never thought it possible, given the fact that he lived his life making sure that people did not get too close. But here he was, wanting to protect someone who might be involved in something dangerous.

He could just walk away from her and go back to the comfort of his previous existence.

“You need protection,” he said.

“No, I don’t,” she insisted.

Stubborn woman.

He cursed inwardly.

“I really don’t. I’ve reached this age mostly alone. I can’t even spread stories about the incident without anyone knowing why I was out after midnight. Even if that is nothing to be ashamed of, someone would still wonder if the curse was finally working on me!”

“You can’t live like this, Sophia.”

“I’ve lived exactly like this. In fear of what would happen next. I won’t cower and hide just because my uncle might want me dead. I would live the rest of my life?—”

“Not like this,” Theo interrupted. “We have to find a way for you to stop living in the shadows, because that is not a way to live. I can’t have you out after midnight when someone is trying to kill you.”

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say.

Sophia tilted her head and looked at him, the cogs in her head turning.

“Then I should not be slipping out of the Holtons’ residence at midnight. I can walk to town, instead of using a carriage, and have each carriage inspected carefully before traveling.”

“And check your food for poison?” Theo asked, exasperated.

At the same time, the fear that had begun slithering into his mind had grown into something bigger.

“I have nobody, Theo.”

Her words were strong enough to feel like a blow to his chest. He released her arm and straightened up on the couch. They were quiet for a moment.

“Marry me,” he said suddenly, startling her and himself.

“What?” Sophia sputtered.

Another woman would have looked delighted if the Duke of Wolvesley proposed to her, but Sophia was not like any other woman. She was there as an equal who wanted as much pleasure without anything in return, just like any of his widows. However, she was more than that. She had given up on the world just like he had.

“It is the only way to keep you safe. For you to have my protection,” he added.

He knew that it wasn’t the only reason he was asking. The idea of Sophia no longer riding in the carriages he sent her had thrown him into a blind panic.

“That idea is preposterous, and you know it, Theo. If someone’s trying to kill me, he won’t stop just because…” She faltered.

“Do you truly believe your uncle won’t try again? If you become my wife, you’ll be legally under my protection. That way, he won’t attempt anything against you, unless he wants to declare himself my enemy. He wouldn’t dare.”

Theo’s words were brimming with confidence, but doubt took root within him. Could he really protect her?

He hadn’t been able to protect himself from his parents.

He hadn’t been able to snatch that pistol from his mother’s hands.

“I’m not certain I can marry without love involved,” Sophia said.

That struck a chord. Theo had not expected that, and he was probably only angry at being refused. Nobody refused the Duke of Wolvesley.

“There was never love in the brew, Sophia,” he said sullenly. “What I’m giving you is a practical offer.”

“You may want to play the hero tonight, but once all the excitement is gone, you will resent me. You will realize that you have made a mistake.”

“Listen to me, Sophia. You almost died tonight. You want to shut yourself in the Holtons’ residence?—”

“No. I won’t be here forever, Theo. I am returning to Scotland. Everything here is temporary.”

Theo did not like the resignation in her voice. She was telling him the truth. She really believed that everything here was temporary.

“You think you can escape him when you leave for Scotland? Don’t you think that would be an easier way for him to dispose of you?” he asked, feeling frenzied and frustrated.

“This isn’t helping.”

“Sophia, when I waited for you tonight, I realized one thing—I don’t think I’m ready for a life without you.”

“Without me? Or without our trysts? You can find someone else to fill the space. There are many women vying for your attention, and you know that. I will be safer with Aunt Mary at Rossburn Hall, where my uncle will realize that I’m not a danger to his position.”

“No. Let me protect you, Sophia, and we will solve this together. Isn’t that what it is? You think he has something to do with your father’s death.”

Sophia exhaled loudly as she further shrank back from him. Silence stretched between them. Theo felt like the longer she thought, the better his chances of making her resolve waver. And having her say yes.

“It’s not how I imagined a proposal,” she whispered.

Theo did not like that she sounded dejected.

“It’s not how I imagined anyone would receive a proposal from me,” he admitted.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Sophia added with a sigh.

“You’re not a beggar, Sophia. Never. Though, admittedly, I do enjoy seeing you beg.”

She half-scoffed, half-laughed and looked at him. His gaze on her remained steady.

“Oh, you’re serious,” she said.

“I am. I’ve never been this serious, Sophia,” Theo admitted.

There was a long pause and a sigh. Then, she finally nodded.“All right. I’ll take your protection.”

For some reason, her words made something settle deep inside him. They began with no promises and ties. This time, they were about to form the tightest of bonds.

Sophia was his. Nobody could try to harm her and not be punished severely.

When he took her hands in his, he swore a silent oath—no one would ever harm her again.