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S ophie woke thirsty. Her arm felt heavy, and fire traveled through it as she moved. Her right side was pressed up against something warm. Turning her head, she tried to see what it was.

“Sophie?”

“What are you doing in my bed?” she croaked.

“It’s my bed, and I wasn’t leaving you in case you needed me,” Patrick said, rolling onto his side. “What do you need?” He pushed back her hair. “How does your arm feel?”

“It hurts,” she whispered, sounding like Timmy when he was upset or in pain.

“I know.” He stroked her cheek. “What can I do?”

“I’m thirsty, Patrick.”

He got out of bed, and then there was a flare of light. Sophie watched him move to the bedside table in his black robe.

Had anyone seen him carry her inside his town house? What about earlier, when Patrick had picked her up when she was shot? Who was in the park?

She and Letty had worked hard to build the life they had. Was that about to come tumbling down?

He laid one hand on her forehead. “There is no temperature.”

“I don’t feel feverish,” Sophie said. “I need to leave here, Patrick. What if someone had seen me?—”

“You’re not leaving. Now, I will lift you, Sophie,” he added, easing an arm beneath her. “Don’t strain. Let me do all the work.”

She hissed out a breath as he put a hand under her shoulders and eased her upright. He then handed her a glass, and she drank deeply.

“Patrick, I will be all right now, so you can leave,” Sophie said as he lowered her to the bed.

“This is my bed. I’m staying in it,” he said after blowing out the candle. She watched him climb back in.

“I’ve broken so many society rules, I’m not sure which one will be my downfall,” she whispered. “I don’t want to fail Letty.”

“You’re not failing anyone. Now rest and sleep. Tomorrow we will address what needs to be done.”

Sophie felt her eyes close, which told her there had been something in whatever he gave her.

“What needs to be done?” she whispered.

“We will marry.”

That had her eyes opening. “I beg your pardon?”

She felt him move, and then he was above her. Even in the dark, she could read his expression—determined.

“I took your innocence, Sophie. My honor would have it no other way.”

“B-but we don’t want to marry each other.”

He shrugged. “I need to marry, and I like you, plus I am a gentleman. What did you think would happen when I realized you were a virgin?”

“I’m not of noble birth.”

“No one knows that, and if you are married to me, Timmy will always be under my protection. He will of course live with us.”

“No, Patrick?—”

“Yes.” He kissed her. “This is best for all concerned.”

She fought the sleep that dragged her under. “You can’t mean that?”

“I can and do. It will happen,” he said, lowering his head. His lips brushed hers briefly. “We also have this,” he whispered.

“This?”

“Passion, my sweet countess.”

Sophie let her eyes close and sleep pull her under then, but she knew that in the morning, she would be having words with him. Strong ones that would make him see reason.

She woke to daylight and no sign of Patrick. Sophie moved and then winced as her arm gave a vicious tug of pain. Then everything flooded back. The shooting, Patrick asking her to marry him. Telling , she revised.

“That is not going to happen.” No one knew what took place between them.

Plus, she was a widow and could withstand the shame if anyone had seen her entering this town house, just as she could stand the shame of what people saw yesterday.

Sophie and Timmy would simply retire to Monmouth.

Jack Spode slid into her head. If he doesn’t kill me first.

She knew that there would come a day when they would confront each other, and if he won, Sophie also knew that Letty would always keep Timmy safe and ensure his future was secure.

Patrick had only asked Sophie to wed him because he was a man of honor and had taken her innocence. She, however, did not need him to do that.

Easing herself upright, which was not easy in a sling, she sat on the edge of the bed. Looking around the room, she could see it was a masculine domain. There was a single hunting scene on the wall, a large chair beside the fireplace, and a small table beside that.

Pushing onto her feet, she stood, gripping one of the bedposts. Whereas yesterday Sophie had been strong, today she was weak as a newborn.

Moving slowly around the room, she reached the small table beside the chair. Lifting the first book, she read the title.

“ The Adventures of Reverend Potter , book ten.”

Letty liked these books, but Sophie had not thought the fictional adventures of a man of the cloth would be Patrick’s reading tastes.

Moving to the window, she looked out and saw the gardens and park beyond.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

She turned, winced but bit back the moan of pain, and saw Patrick standing in the doorway.

“I can’t stay in your bed. I need to get back to the Monmouth town house and Letty and Timmy.” Be strong, Sophie, or he will try and control you.

“No. You are not leaving.”

“I am and will. It is a bullet wound to my arm, so I am perfectly capable of leaving.” He glared at her. “Where are my clothes?”

“You don’t have any.” He stood there, legs braced, arms folded, looking as moveable as an oak tree.

“Of course I have some. I arrived in them yesterday.”

“Are we going to ignore the discussion we had last night, Sophie?” Lowering his arms, he moved closer.

She braced herself for his nearness. The man was overpowering when she was healthy, but today he seemed to take up all the space in the room.

“We are not marrying.”

“We are marrying. In fact, I have already applied for a special license to do so.”

The steady look he gave her had Sophie’s good hand clenching into a fist.

“I don’t need you to do this for honor. I don’t need you to throw your life away when no one else knows what happened between us. You believed I was a widow?—”

“We will marry. The decision is made.”

“This is not your choice alone to make,” she hissed.

“Do you want Timmy to walk in society one day?”

She blinked at the question. “I, ah, hadn’t thought about it.”

“He can under my protection. I can teach him what he needs to succeed in society or whatever he chooses to do.”

She shook her head, but that was really to clear it.

“What plans did you have for him, Sophie?”

“We will retire to Monmouth, where I will teach him… things,” Sophie finished lamely.

“And what? He is to live there tied to you forever? He could go away to school?—”

“And be bullied,” Sophie interrupted him.

“He will not be bullied if we teach him to be strong, and I can do that. He can rise above his birth if he wishes to, like you have.”

“You may find someone else you wish to marry,” Sophie said, looking for anything to stop this.

“I won’t. Do I frighten you, Sophie?”

He hadn’t touched her, but he was close now, and she felt the tips of his boots brushing her toes.

“Of course not.”

“Do you dislike me?”

She wanted to say yes but couldn’t. She shook her head.

“Then say yes.” His eyes looked down at her, and she had no idea what he was thinking. “I will never let Jack Spode near you or the people you love again.”

You, she thought. I love you. And that terrified her. She said yes.