Page 31

“ L etty, I am a countess, so surely it is my right to refuse to go driving with Lord Coulter if I do not feel up to it,” Sophie said, looking to the window. “It’s cold today. Who would go driving in this weather?”

“The man who risked his life to save Timmy and Mary, that’s who,” Letty said in an uncharacteristically firm voice. “My guess is he has news on Jack Spode and would like to discuss that with you.”

She hadn’t told Letty what she’d overheard about Patrick, which Sophie thought now was possibly gossip that had been spoken loud enough for her to overhear.

“So put on your jacket and bonnet and perhaps a scarf and get downstairs, because I’m sure I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to go driving with that handsome man who clearly cares for you.”

“You don’t know that, Letty.”

She was subjected to a hard look. “Yes, I do.”

Her sister-in-law then left the room, and Jenny entered.

“Right, then, let’s get you all sorted to go out with the handsome gentleman.”

It was inevitable, it seemed, that she was to go driving with Patrick. The apology she likely owed him would have to be delivered sooner rather than later. If I’m wrong.

What did she say to him if she was right? But then why would he take a woman who was not to be his future wife driving?

“Society is extremely confusing, Jenny,” Sophie muttered.

“It certainly makes a woman glad she’s not part of it sometimes,” Jenny added.

Dressed in the coat Letty had insisted she needed and a matching bonnet, Sophie was soon ready. Nerves fluttered in her belly as she pulled on gloves.

“Off you go, then,” Jenny said, making a shooing motion with her hands.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“It’s a phaeton with a lad on the back, so there is no room for me.”

Did that mean she’d be sitting close to Patrick? Sophie guessed she’d soon find out.

When she reached the stairs that led down to the entranceway, she saw Letty there with Patrick. As if sensing her, his eyes shot up and locked on Sophie.

Raising the hem of her skirts so she didn’t trip and land at his feet, she went down to join him.

“My lady.” He bowed. “If you are ready, we will leave.” His expression was polite. None of the anger he’d shown when she’d accused him of a future with another woman was visible now.

Nodding, Sophie gave Letty a kiss on one cheek and then walked out the front door to the waiting phaeton. Before she could climb up, hands lifted her onto the seat.

“Thank you.”

He walked around the horses and joined her, his thigh brushing hers as he sat.

So much lay between them now. He knew of her past and also knew her intimately, as she did him, and yet, in that moment, she felt like there was an ocean between them.

She could see the tan leather of his driving gloves and the sleeve of his dark gray overcoat out the corner of her eye as the horses started moving. Sophie had never been in a carriage like this, and she soon thought it was a great deal better than being inside one because you saw so much more.

“Stephen would love that,” Patrick said, pointing to a sweet shop. The window had jars of brightly colored treats. “He loves sugar in any form.”

“You and he are close,” Sophie said, happy to discuss anything but what they should talk about for now.

“Very. I have known him for many years.”

“Lady Sumner told me about her first meeting with you as a child. You told her that her son had no manners.”

Patrick snorted. “Actually, I remember that. Going to Stephen’s estate had been a revelation to me after my own family life,” he said slowly. “I had not believed a family could actually love one another as the Sumner family did.”

“Was your life so horrid, then?” She wasn’t sure he’d answer her because he fell silent.

“Not horrid,” he said finally. “I had my sisters, but other than them, there was not a lot of love and laughter. I was the heir, you see, and all that mattered to my father was that I learned to be like him.”

She touched his hand. “Thank you for speaking openly with me, and I’m sorry you suffered.” He shrugged, and Sophie thought that was the end of the subject. “I was lucky. My mother loved me as best she could,” she added.

“I’m glad you had one parent to love you,” he said.

“Was your mother not kind either?” Sophie asked.

Patrick’s snort of laughter held no humor. “My mother’s method of child-rearing included lecturing me on how to become an earl from sunrise to sunset alongside my father.”

“I am not offering an excuse for her behavior. However, I’m sure she raised you exactly as she was raised and therefore knew no better.”

“With the benefit of age comes wisdom, so I have also come to that conclusion,” he added.

“Still, that does not excuse her entirely. She was your mother and as such should have offered you more than just a roof over your head. How did they die?”

“They were driving home from a neighbor’s party, and their horses took fright and bolted. The carriage collided with a tree, and they were both killed instantly.”

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen. My sisters were seventeen and nineteen.”

They drove in silence for a short time while Sophie thought through how to say what she must.

“Forgive me for believing you were promised to another. Clearly, I was meant to overhear that gossip, and I am ashamed to say I believed it.”

His eyes shot to her briefly. “You don’t believe it now?”

Sophie looked at him and sighed. “Is it true?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry. Society is not something I’m comfortable being part of, even as I have now walked in it for a while. The gossiping and?—”

“Bitchiness?” he asked.

Sophie laughed. “Yes.”

“And after what we have shared and lies between us, you were hurt to think I would be committed to someone else.”

“No! I have no claim on you, but?—”

“Sophie,” he said in a hard voice. “No other woman has a claim on me.”

Other woman?

“Have you had any contact from Jack Spode?” he asked her after a few minutes of silence.

“Not as yet.” Sophie hoped it would stay that way yet doubted it would.

“You will tell me instantly if he contacts you in any form. I will have your word on this,” Patrick said in a hard voice.

“I promise.”

“I have men working on finding Spode, but so far he is not easy to locate.”

“He has a sister,” Sophie said suddenly. “She left our village years ago. Her name is Sarah. I have not seen her or heard a word about her in many years.”

“Sarah Spode,” Patrick said slowly. “It could help.”

“She may be married or even passed now.”

“Possibly, but it is another place to start.”

Looking around her, she saw they were leaving the less built-up areas of London.

“Where are we going, my lord?”

“You’ll see, Sophie,” he said. “Relax, we will be there soon.”

When they stopped, it was outside a row of four shops. Patrick jumped down and handed the reins to his man. He then helped her down.

“Why are we here?” Sophie asked

“We are going into that shop.” He pointed to the third one along.

“Why?”

They were still close to each other, neither having taken a step back. He had a gentle look in his eyes she’d rarely seen.

“I doubted your claim to being a countess?—”

“With good reason,” Sophie cut in.

He placed his hand over her mouth.

“I doubted your claim, asked you personal questions, and was rude to you, and you took everything as a countess would… because while you were not born with a title, it’s my belief you are better fitted to have one than many.”

She pulled his hand away. “What are you saying?”

“That I’m sorry. That I let my need to know everything cloud the fact that you’re a good person and what you and Lady Carstairs did was to save you both.”

“It was wrong,” Sophie whispered.

“Possibly. But had you not done it, we would never have met, and that would have been a shame.” He kissed her softly right there in the street. “So this is my apology.”

“You shouldn’t do that where people can see,” Sophie said, looking around them, her lips tingling from his kiss.

“I don’t care if people see. Now come.” He took her hand.

The words in the window said Lundell’s Emporium in gold writing. Patrick opened the door and ushered her inside.

“I don’t understand why we are here,” she said, looking at him.

“Look around you. Do you see anything you might like? Because someone told me you collected figurines.”

“Amelia?”

“She was the original source,” he said, smiling.

“Do you like figurines?” she asked Lord Coulter.

“No. I loathe them because they collect dust and have no practical use. However, one of my sisters loves them. I have broken and replaced a few over the years.”

He would have been a good brother, Sophie thought, for all his time was spent learning to become the earl who stood before her today. Why did just looking at him make her feel on shaky ground?

“Have a look around.” He nudged her.

“I have only one small figurine that can in no way be classed as a collection like Amelia’s.”

“No doubt because she has a head start on you. Go,” he said, placing a hand on her back and urging her away from him.

Sophie went to the first tall cabinet and was examining the contents in seconds.

By the fourth, she knew Patrick’s patience was wearing thin because he was tapping his fingers on the bench beside him.

“Well, have you selected something to purchase?” he asked with a strained smile.

“May I remind you this was not my idea. You brought me here.”

He dogged her footsteps as she walked through the shop. In no way could she say his presence was a comfortable one, but he had been kind to bring her here, even if it was his idea of hell.

“I know.” He sighed. “Come, make your selections, and then we will drive through the park.”

Sophie took a dog out of the first cabinet and a tiny ballerina out of the second.

“I will purchase them.” A large hand reached out before her.

“Absolutely not,” she said, walking around him to the counter. “I can pay for my own purchases.”

After placing them on the counter, Sophie went to open her reticule. One of Patrick’s hands held it closed as he placed several notes onto the counter.

“Stop,” she hissed, tugging but getting nowhere.

“If you could wrap those, thank you,” he said calmly from beside her.

Sophie seethed but also had no wish to make a scene, because you never knew who was around. Only when they were once again outside did she turn to him.

“I do not like to be manipulated, my lord.”

“It’s not manipulation; it’s a gift,” he said, picking her up and placing her on the seat.

“I think you are far too used to having your own way,” Sophie said when he’d joined her.

“Something tells me that could be changing in the future,” he said, giving her a smile before picking up the reins.

What did that mean?