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“ S ophie?” Patrick shook his sleep-fogged head as she and Doddy reached the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?”

“Help me,” she whispered.

“What has happened?” He took her hands when he noted the tears streaking her pale cheeks.

“My lord, she pushed me aside to enter. I tried to stop?—”

“Make tea and stoke the fire in my study, Fletcher,” Patrick said, cutting his butler off.

“You must help me.” The desperation in her words made his chest hurt.

“Of course I will.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her shivering body close. “I have you, Sophie,” he said to the top of her head as she continued to sob into his chest.

Patrick knew two things in that moment: First, whatever had her here at this hour had to be bad, because she’d never willingly seek him out and especially not in the early hours of the morning.

Second, he knew he’d been fooling himself by thinking she didn’t mean a great deal to him.

By thinking that the stories he’d been trying to tell himself since he’d taken her innocence were true, and he didn’t need this woman… because he did.

“What the hell is all the bloody noise? Can a man not expect a peaceful sleep?” Stephen groused from behind Patrick.

“Stephen—”

“Christ, is that Sophie?” His friend moved to stand beside him. Bidders, too, appeared and started barking when he saw Doddy.

“Yes, she just arrived in this state with Doddy, and I do not know yet why. Get dressed and meet me downstairs, because I have a feeling that whatever the reason is, it’s something that will need both of us to fix. Take Doddy with you and give him water and food. He looks like he needs it.”

“Of course,” Stephen said, all business now. “Be quiet, Bidders!” Stephen snapped. “Doddy could eat you if he chose. However, he is clearly better behaved.”

Patrick led Sophie to his rooms and then lowered her to his bed. He then lit his lamp. Pulling the blanket off the end, he wrapped it around her. She didn’t protest, just watched him as he moved. He then pulled a chair close and sat facing her.

He’d not seen Sophie since Lord and Lady Shubert’s garden party. Her aunt had told him she was ill, but Patrick knew better. She was avoiding him and the questions he would have after what they’d shared. If she hadn’t returned to society tomorrow night, he was going to call on her.

“Talk to me, Sophie.” He took her hands, noting she was gloveless and they were frozen. Her hair was loose and a tangled mass of curls. If he didn’t know better, Patrick would have said she’d run from her house to his.

“Please, Sophie,” he urged, gently stroking one cold cheek. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what has happened.”

“Timmy is gone, my lord.”

“Gone where?”

Her eyes had been on their hands but now went to his, and he saw the terror.

“Someone has taken him, and it is my fault,” she whispered. “I should have known, anticipated—I have put him in danger. I knew it was wrong.”

“Tell me,” he demanded when she fell silent.

“I have lied to you, Lord Coulter. I have lied to everyone.”

“Patrick,” he said. “Because this is not the time for Lord Coulter.” She nodded—one jerky tilt of her head. “Tell me everything now from the beginning, Sophie.”

“Timmy is my brother. A noise woke me, and I went to his room to find him gone. Whoever has taken him knows about my past,” Sophie said.

He stayed silent, watching her while his hands held hers as she told her story.

“My father was a man who got money by whatever means he could, legal or illegal.”

Disheveled, pale-faced, with her hair falling all over the place, she was still the most beautiful woman he knew, Patrick thought. Everything about Sophie had touched him from their first encounter, and now he’d finally have answers to his questions. He’d know the truth about her.

“I was a maid for the Earl of Monmouth and Letty. I could read because my mother did the cleaning and sewing for a lady who had retired from society. It was she who taught me to read and write as payment. My mother had hopes that this would elevate my station in life, you see,” Sophie said with a small sigh.

“She was a wonderful woman. Honest, loyal, and nothing like my father.”

He squeezed her hands gently to say he understood.

“The late Earl of Monmouth was bedridden toward the end of his life, and I often read the newspaper for him when his manservant was busy. We used to talk about a great many things, and I knew him for the kind, generous person he was,” she said, and Patrick could tell she genuinely meant that.

“He would confide in me about his concerns for Letty after his death and his doubts in Lord Dutton’s ability to fulfill his duties as the Earl of Monmouth.

I never ventured an opinion,” Sophie rushed to add, shooting him a look.

“Go on,” he said.

“I found Letty crying one day. We often talked, and sometimes I was her maid when hers was sick or away. She, too, was worried about her future but didn’t want to upset her brother.”

“All of it, Sophie,” Patrick said when she fell quiet.

“Two days after that conversation with Letty, my father and mother took ill with fever. Mother urged me to get Timmy out of the house. They hadn’t expected to have another child, but Father was pleased when his son was born,” she whispered.

Patrick watched the memories come and go across Sophie’s face.

“I was desperate, you see, so I asked Letty if I could bring him to Monmouth, as I had no one else to turn to, and she said yes.”

“She is a kind woman,” Patrick said.

Sophie nodded.

“The following days saw the Earl of Monmouth’s health declining rapidly. We were told he would not last the week, and it was then that he and Letty put their heads together, and when they told me what they had decided, I said no.”

“About you marrying the earl?” Patrick asked.

“Yes, I said no because I didn’t think I could be a countess. I knew I couldn’t,” she whispered.

“But clearly you did,” he said gently.

“Letty convinced me. She said I needed to do it for my family’s sake, if not for mine and hers. That they would have a future if I did,” Sophie said.

She was talking faster now, rushing through the last part of her story.

“So, we were married five hours before he died.”

Even though he’d known something wasn’t right, he would never have come up with that scenario.

“I know it shocks you, and I understand you feel you must?—”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Sophie. Continue with your story,” Patrick said.

She studied him with solemn eyes briefly before speaking again.

“My parents both died of the fever, and Timmy and I moved in with Letty, and she taught me to be a lady. She was adamant we needed to come to London for a season to stop any gossip and to ensure people met me. We created an entire past for my life and the reasons as to why I never had a season. Coming to London was to reinforce that and stop Lord Dutton claiming I had stolen his inheritance.”

They were both silent then. He was grappling with everything she’d told him. It had taken courage to rise above her birth and step into the life of a countess. She’d fooled all of them, and had he not visited Lord Monmouth before his death, Patrick would not have questioned her right to the title.

“And now tell me about Timmy,” he said.

“I received the first note and my old apron over a month ago, and then Timmy’s shirt next.

But there were still no demands, and then tonight Doddy woke me whimpering, and I went to my brother’s room and found him gone.

The note in his bed said they’d taken him and his n-nanny.

” She stopped to take a deep breath. “I saw a carriage out the window and thought I heard Timmy crying. I ran outside with Doddy, but it left as I reached it.”

Patrick closed his eyes briefly. Even now, she could have been taken from him.

“So you came to me?”

“Yes. I didn’t know who else to turn to,” she said.

He was pleased she’d thought of him first, even as his body chilled over what could have happened to her.

“Do you know who took him, Sophie? Someone who would want to cause you this much pain?”

“I-I can think of only one man,” she whispered. “I thought about it as I ran here.”

“You ran here in your nightclothes?” Visions of her being abducted and dragged into some seedy alley filled his head. He might never have seen her again, and that thought alone scared the breath from his body. “You will never take such a risk again. Do you understand?”

“I will to protect someone I love,” she vowed, showing him a glimpse of the woman he’d come to know.

“Anything could have happened to you, and I would never have known,” he added, although this time his voice was calmer.

“I had no choice.”

“You could have called a hackney, Sophie.”

“I didn’t see one,” she said. “So Doddy and I ran as fast as I could, keeping to the shadows.”

“And now I need to ask if you are all right after what happened between us?”

Her eyes lowered, but he raised her chin with a finger until their eyes met. “Sophie?”

“I am well,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He kissed her softly.

“’Tis not your fault, as you did not know I was innocent,” she whispered.

“And there is no time to discuss this further now, but we will talk about what happened the other night soon, Sophie.”

She nodded.

“I need to know who you believe has your brother.”

“I can think of only one man ruthless enough to do this. His name is Jack Spode. A man from my past.”

He would commit that name to memory. “I will dress now, and then we will go downstairs, as I want Stephen to hear your story.”

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “He is a good man, and you can trust him, I promise.”

“Very well.”

“One more thing, Sophie, and I will have your word on this.”

“What?”

“No more lies. You will tell me only the truth now.”

Their eyes clashed for long seconds before she nodded again.

“Good girl. Now wait there while I dress, and then we’ll go and work out how to get your brother back.”

As he moved to the next room, he heard her bite back a sob and thought that whoever was responsible was going to pay for the pain they’d inflicted on her tonight… pay dearly.