Page 11 of The Runaway Heiress (The Gilded West)

Chapter Ten

S ophie closed her eyes and held her face up to the cool wind that blew in from across the valley, doing her best to settle her nerves for the drop that was ahead of her.

She perched on her knees by the open window of her bedroom and slowly opened her eyes to look down.

Her bedroom faced the back of the house and the roof of the sunroom was just below.

It was only a short drop down and then another to the ground.

The tricky part would come when she attempted to purchase a ticket for the stagecoach.

She’d already determined the schedule from an ad in the newspaper.

It was leaving in the morning at six o’clock—too early for her absence to be noted and Jean wasn’t due back home until the next day.

Her anxious gaze looked out in the distance, knowing that the train tracks were somewhere out there.

Taking the train would be infinitely faster if only she had the funds.

There were only a few days until the wedding, and this very well might be her last chance of escape. Jean didn’t have any plans to travel after this trip, because his friends would be coming into town to stay with them for the wedding.

She picked up her wool valise, which contained her extra clothes and the few pieces of silver she had pilfered from the dining room, and held her breath as she dropped it out the window.

It landed softly on the roof below and no one came running.

Good. If all went to plan, she would be on the coach in a few hours with no one being the wiser.

Her only regret was that it would mean leaving Gray behind.

She had not cried for him after the first day, not that those tears had served her any purpose, anyway.

The ache that had lodged itself firmly in her chest was still present and she feared it wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. She was doomed to lose him.

She wanted to hate him, and there were times she almost succeeded.

He had taken her virtue—well, had it foisted upon him—and coldly brushed her aside in no uncertain terms. Only he hadn’t done it coldly.

She could still remember the pain in his voice when he had touched her, pleaded with her, just before she had stormed from his room.

He hadn’t wanted to part with her. She was sure of it.

He did feel something for her. But he had never promised her anything more.

He’d never lied to her about that, she would give him that.

It was her own foolishness that had dreamed something more could come from their one night together.

Was it his fault that he was at Jean’s mercy just like everyone else? No, her reason screamed at her, but her heart felt betrayed. Why couldn’t they leave together? Why couldn’t he offer to go with her?

Stupid questions, those. She could not expect him to give up his entire life for her.

Still, every time she saw Gray, she forgave him a little more.

And she did see him. Almost daily, but never alone.

Never so she could ask him those questions.

She would catch him watching her with that solemn gaze, usually giving nothing away, but occasionally touching on the forlorn.

She tried not to return his looks but it had become increasingly difficult since the initial heat of her anger had died out, and besides, looking at him soothed the pain left behind.

A couple of times she had tried to approach him, but Monsieur Sinclair had come from nowhere and headed her off with a summons from Jean.

It had often enough that it occurred to her then that Monsieur Sinclair might suspect that something had happened between them.

Then she realized it didn’t matter as long as Jean didn’t know.

She had even gone by Jean’s study a few times, in the hopes that Gray would be posted there, but it was always one of the others.

So she had concluded he was avoiding her and stopped trying.

Pushing thoughts of him aside, she hoisted herself through the open window, one leg at a time, until she dangled from the windowsill on her forearms. Her feet were still too far away to reach the roof below so she’d have to drop.

Which would be fine, except she couldn’t figure out how to close the window behind her.

The fingers of one hand wrapped around the sash from the bottom but it refused to budge as she’d suspected it would.

It had been difficult enough to open with both hands from inside.

Finally, she gave up. Besides, it was well after midnight, no one would see it anyway.

She held tight to the sill and dropped until her arms were fully extended, then let go.

She would have landed just fine, she was certain of it, but an arm caught her around the waist and a hand covered her mouth.

That frightened her worse than the fall ever could have.

But almost immediately, she recognized the breadth of the chest against her back and the scent that enveloped her.

“It’s me.” His breath whispered past her ear, making her skin come alive in awareness.

Her body sagged against him in relief as she tried to overcome the rush of adrenaline that pounded through her. “What are you doing on the roof?” The question came out of her in a breathless rush once he dropped the hand covering her mouth.

Gray didn’t answer, though, he just held her against him until her heart stopped threatening to pound out of her chest. Finally, he moved away from her and explained.

“I watch your window every night. I knew it was only a matter of time before you made a run for it.” And then he picked up her valise and took her hand, leading her along the wall to the inverted corner where the sunroom met the rest of the house.

Once there, he tossed the valise down and leaped nimbly down to the ground behind it.

Sophie followed but much more hesitantly, getting down to her belly first and following that way.

He caught her hips from behind and helped her reach the ground.

But when he grabbed her hand again to pull her away, she revolted.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you back upstairs before somebody sees you.” He explained.

She pitched her voice low, and stated very firmly, “But I’m escaping. I’m not going back in. How can you want me to go back in there?”

He sighed but she couldn’t see his face in the dark to see what that meant. “How far do you think you’d get?”

She honestly didn’t know but it would be better than not trying. “How can you want me to go back in there knowing it means marriage to Anton? Is that what you want for me?”

As soon as the question left her lips, she was in his arms with his face buried in her hair. “No, the thought of you with him eats me up inside.” His voice was harsh against her ear.

Sophie savored the feel of his body against her, warm and comforting and so incredibly right it shouldn’t be forbidden.

“Then let me go,” she whispered. “I could…I could wait for you or…or you could come with me.” Before she’d even finished she could feel him shaking his head exactly as she had known he would.

“I can’t come with you. It has to be this way. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” It was an alarming concept.

Jean had made it so she wasn’t sure she could ever trust anyone.

Yet, there was something in his words. Something more that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say.

Sophie pulled back just far enough to look up at him but it was too dark to see much except the shadowed outline of his features.

“Are you saying I won’t have to marry Anton? ”

He stared down at her and his thumb brushed her cheekbone, making the flesh there prickle with pleasure. “I’m saying you have to trust me.” His voice was warm and intimate. It reminded her of how he had talked to her that night in his bed.

“What is going to happen? What’s going on?”

“I can’t say. I’ve already said too much.”

The statement made her stomach flip-flop with anxiety. Could she trust him? He hadn’t told Jean the truth about that night but that could be because it saved him as much as it did her. How could she trust him when she didn’t even know what that meant? “Kiss me.”

There was no hesitation from him and in seconds his lips were on hers.

The kiss was soft and tender, everything she imagined a goodbye kiss should be, but then he pressed inside and it became a kiss of hunger and promise that left her knees weak and made her lean heavily against him for support.

When he released her, his hands held her face and his nose brushed hers. “Just trust me, Sophie. Please.”

And God help her, she did.