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“ S he is an accomplished pianist also,” Mr. Tilton said.

“Well then, I hope one day I will get to hear Miss Ashworth play,” Sophie said, swallowing her smile.

Mr. Tilton was clearly in love with Miss Ashworth, who he’d asked if she knew. When she’d said they’d met briefly, he’d then launched into a detailed description of all the ways the woman far outshone any other ladies this season.

“You’ll forgive me for saying that Miss Ashworth was the diamond of this year’s debutantes, my lady.” He shot her a look. “I did not mean?—”

“Do not give it another thought,” Sophie said. “I happen to think you are right. Miss Ashworth is lovely.”

It was dark in the theatre, but not so dark that she didn’t see the blush on his cheeks.

“Just so,” he whispered as the curtains drew slowly back on the stage.

“Oh my,” Sophie said as a stunning lady dressed in red appeared. From the first note, Sophie was captivated. She laughed and clapped enthusiastically throughout the performance.

“Oh, that was wonderful,” she said as the first act finished.

“Would you like some refreshments, my lady?” Mr. Tilton asked.

“Is Miss Ashworth here?” Sophie whispered. He nodded eagerly. “Then of course we need refreshments.”

“We will return soon,” he said to Letty and Beatrice, holding out his arm to her.

With a regal nod, just like Letty had taught her, Sophie placed her fingers on his, and soon they were mingling with other theatergoers.

“Tilton!”

Viscount Sumner approached with his blue eyes twinkling, and Sophie couldn’t help but return the smile. He had come to her aid when Myles had cornered her one evening, and for that she’d always be grateful.

“I wonder if I may take your companion for a few minutes, Countess. I fear I have a weighty horse issue that Lord Hanley and I must have clarified immediately.”

Mr. Tilton looked stunned that he was to be called upon to discuss a horse matter.

“I—well… of course I will try,” he said, shooting a panicked look at Sophie.

“I will return to the box. You go on and give your expert opinion, Mr. Tilton.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “Miss Ashworth is to your right. Speak with her on your return.”

He nodded and then left with Lord Sumner. Looking around, she wondered where the lemonade was. A glass would be nice, and then she would return to Letty.

“Countess, allow me to take you to the refreshment table.”

Sophie had no time to pull free when Lord Coulter took her arm as he moved past. His grip, though not painful, was unrelenting when she tried to tug free. Almost running to keep pace with him, she forced herself to smile at the guests who caught her eye.

“My lord, release me at once.”

“Be still. I just want to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she whispered back. “I need to get back to Lady Carstairs.”

He ignored her and kept walking until they had moved away from the other patrons. Before she could stop him, he’d opened a door and tugged her inside. It snapped closed behind them, and they were plunged into darkness.

“What is the meaning of this, Lord Coulter? If anyone saw us enter this room, I would be?—”

“I want to talk to you,” he said, moving closer. Sophie backed away. “I need to apologize for the way I spoke to you the other night.”

“You don’t sound like you want to apologize.” Sophie found refuge in anger.

“It’s not something I enjoy, as it suggests I did something wrong.” The words came out a growl.

“Do you realize how arrogant that statement is?” she hissed.

“You are becoming a problem for me, Countess,” he said, ignoring her words. “A problem that I seem unable to solve, and that is not good because I am distracted.”

“I have no wish to be your problem.” In fact, she wished he would leave her alone entirely, because when he was near, she also could think of nothing else.

“Is Timothy your child?”

“What? Why would you ask me that?” Shock had her voice rising.

“It’s one of the many questions about you I have no answers to,” he said.

“Yes, he is mine,” The words came out harsh, but Sophie didn’t care. Timmy was hers. Perhaps not in the way people believed, but she would protect him with her life.

“I think you’re lying. What I don’t know is why.”

“Why do you care?” Frustration had her yelling. “What I am and do is nothing to you.” She had to stay strong, even though her carefully crafted world was tumbling down around her one brick at a time.

“I shouldn’t care,” he said, running a finger down her cheek. “But I do.”

She fought the heat that washed through her at his touch.

“What secrets lie beneath that beautiful exterior, Countess? I will unearth every one.”

She tried to scoff, tried to act as if his words had not had her veins turning to ice. Secrets? Yes, she had plenty of those.

“I don’t know why you are interested in me, but if, as I suspect, it is because you want me to do that with you, then let me tell you, I won’t. I will not be coerced.”

“That?” The word came out coated in ice. “Coerced?”

“Why do you want to know my secrets if not to use them against me? What other reason can there be?” Sophie said.

“I don’t like what you are suggesting, Countess,” he rasped.

“And I don’t like what you have alluded to,” she said, forcing herself to be brave. She had to stop this, him, whatever this was, and now. There was already so much that could go wrong in her life, so she must focus on that alone, and to do that, she could not worry about him.

“You believe me a fraud and yet still kissed me and offered me… that.” She waved a hand about. “So let me make this easy for you, my lord. Stay away from me?—”

He kissed her, pulling her hard into his body. Sophie could not allow herself to weaken. Stepping back, she slapped him hard enough to make his ears ring and then fled before he could stop her.

She sat through the rest of the performance chatting with Mr. Tilton as if nothing had happened. Sophie did not once look to where Lord Coulter sat.

Relieved when it was finally time to leave, she was happy to usher Letty to their carriage and head home.

“I will undress. Find your bed, Jenny,” she said to her maid when she entered her room forty minutes later. Sophie needed solitude.

“Very well, my lady. A parcel has arrived for you. I have put it on your bedside table.”

“Lovely, thank you, Jenny. Good night.”

Sophie sat on the side of her bed and picked up the parcel. Her fingers trembled as she undid the string. Inside was Timmy’s little shirt. She knew it was his because Sophie had made it for him. Exhaling slowly, she picked up the note and unfolded it.

I thought you might like this as a memento, Sophie Beams.

You’re strong, Sophie, remember that. Her mother had always said that to her. You will deal with this as you have everything else.

“I know it has to be you, Jack Spode,” Sophie whispered, touching the shirt. Why did he not ask for money? What was he waiting for?

They invented the word evil for Jack Spode, and she’d escaped from his control… but now he’d found her. Sophie knew he wanted to make her pay. He would make her suffer too. But when would he make his move?