Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (24 page)

The relief that filled Jack was compounded when she offered him a cheerful greeting.
The last of his panic allayed, he dismissed the landlord.

“So this is how you repay me for abducting you,” he said accusingly to Sophie when
they were alone.

“It is.” Her gaze narrowed. “You are fortunate I didn’t do worse. The thought definitely
crossed my mind.”

He had to admire Sophie’s boldness. She could give as good as she got. But so could
he. Draping the sheet lower around his waist and tucking in the ends, Jack sat himself
down at the table bare-chested.

His plan to discompose her worked to some extent, for her cheeks flushed slightly.

“How brazen can you be?” Sophie remarked. “You are sitting at the breakfast table
nearly naked.”

“What would you have me do?” he asked with a trace of amusement. “You stole my clothes.”

“You must admit, it has put me in a better bargaining position.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Your scheme is worthy of my family, sweetheart. You could
be an honorary Wilde.”

She made a face. “I am not certain that is a compliment.”

“I am trying to show you that I can be a good sport.”

“And so you have. But if you want your clothing back, I expect a full apology for
abducting me. In fact, a little groveling might be in order.”

“Groveling? You won’t make this easy for me, will you?”

“Certainly not. You don’t deserve to be let off lightly. You could have ruined me,
Jack.”

There was a martial light in her eyes that warned him she was serious, but it was
the hurt in her voice that twisted his heart.

His tone sobered instantly. “Sophie … I abjectly apologize. You are right. I should
not have forced you here against your will.” Jack hesitated, for even though his contrition
was genuine, he knew he had to prove it to her. “I will return you to your aunt this
morning if that is what you truly want.”

Sophie picked up a crusty roll and began to butter it. “I didn’t say I want to return
to my aunt.”

Jack felt a hitch in his breathing. “Does that mean you will come with me to Navartania?”

“I am considering it. But I have conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“First you have to swear you will never again do anything so disgraceful to me. If
you dare try, I will … I don’t know what I will do, but it will not be pleasant for
you.”

“Very well, I swear.”

“And no more deceptions. No more lies between us.”

“Agreed.”

She didn’t seem entirely mollified, judging by the piercing look she sent him. “You
behaved like a total heathen, flouting every rule of civilized behavior. You’re enough
to drive a saint mad.”

A slow grin breaking over his mouth, he reached for the bread and jam. “Fortunately
you’re no saint. You might have been a fortnight ago, but I am finally influencing
you to relax your inhibitions.”

Sophie gave a ladylike snort. “Just so you know, I don’t believe we have any chance
for a romantic alliance. But I won’t be the one to keep you from facing your father.
You need to try to put the past behind you.”

Jack frowned, realizing she was challenging him to confront his darkest issues.

“You cannot make this choice about me,” she added earnestly. “You have to decide about
accepting your inheritance and becoming a prince on its own merits.”

Jack sidestepped her argument. “Then you will come?”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, I will.”

Elation made Jack abruptly stand and lean across the table. Catching her off guard,
he kissed Sophie fully on the mouth.

As his kiss softened and lingered, she responded with a faint moan and raised her
hands to his face, then pulled back after a long moment.

“It isn’t fair, what you do to me,” she muttered. “And that is another condition,
by the way. There can be no more carnal play between us, and certainly no carnal relations.”

“As you wish, love.”

The suspicious look she gave him suggested she didn’t trust him at all.

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” Jack insisted.

Her second snort was a bit lighter. “I don’t expect any great reformation. Once a
black sheep, always a black sheep. I suppose you can’t help yourself.”

“No, it’s in my blood.”

“Regardless, I intend to keep your knife for the time being,” Sophie announced.

“The blade is quite sharp. Don’t cut yourself with it,” he teased.

When she flashed a wry smile at him, the warmth reached down deep inside him. He was
willing to give Sophie a hundred knives to use on him, Jack decided, if it meant she
would offer him one of those radiant smiles.

They departed the
inn directly after breakfast, and in a short while, Jack fished under the carriage
seat for the small leatherbound volume he’d brought for Sophie.

“Shakespeare’s Sonnets?”
she asked, perusing the title and first few pages.

“You said you enjoyed poetry,” Jack explained. “I thought reading might help you to
pass the time and make your abduction more appealing.”

He saw Sophie quell a spurt of laughter. “I am touched by your thoughtfulness,” she
returned dryly.

“I also wanted to show you I can be as romantic as Dunmore in my wooing of you.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “I don’t want sonnets from you, Jack. I would much rather
you tell me about your father’s country and what to expect when we arrive.”

With an inward grimace, Jack turned his attention to the subject he tended to avoid
at all costs.

Drawing out a map of France from his knapsack, he showed Sophie where the small principality
of Navartania
was located … tucked in a river valley in the Jura mountains, near the border of the
Swiss Confederation.

“From Paris, we head southeast to Dijon, then east through Besançon. As for what to
expect when we arrive, I am not certain.”

“You have never visited there before?”

“No. After Boney’s abdication, I toured France and Austria, but I had no desire to
see my father’s homeland.”

Sophie’s gaze was both curious and sympathetic. “Your father tried to find you after
your mother was killed, did he not?”

Jack felt his jaw harden reflexively. “He visited England months later, but my uncles
believed he had no right to claim me as his son. And shortly afterward I was adopted
by my Uncle Stephen.”

“But Prince Raoul wanted to acknowledge you as his son?”

“So he said. His own father was still alive then, however, so for years, there was
no question of my inheriting the title. When I was seventeen, Prince Raoul succeeded
to the throne. By then he was widowed and growing older and realized he would possibly
die childless. Then last year he fell seriously ill, so settling the question of the
succession became even more urgent.”

“You said a law was passed so that you could legally inherit the princedom?”

“Yes. Prince Raoul designated me as his heir presumptive. Navartania was founded by
Huguenots and named after Henri of Navarre. My claim to the
throne would not be contested on religious grounds since the country is Protestant.”

“But you rejected all his efforts to reconcile.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Sophie didn’t reply directly. “Do you remember him from when you were a child?”

Jack nodded. He vividly remembered the strong, dark-haired, passionate nobleman whom
his mother had adored. As a young boy, he’d loved his father, too, but that was before
he grew old enough to understand that his father’s failings were nothing short of
criminal.

Jack realized he was slightly irrational on the subject. He wanted Prince Raoul to
pay for his mother’s death. In fact, thoughts of revenge had driven him for years.
But he knew better than to say the word “revenge” in Sophie’s hearing.

When she continued to look at him expectantly, Jack cut off her uncomfortable line
of questioning. “This is more than enough discussion about my father.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Why are you so interested in him?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t give a fig about your father. I only care about how
you
feel.”

His mouth curled. “Females are always concerned about feelings.”

She gave a quiet little huff. “And you males care too little.”

Wanting to change the subject, Jack again reached in his knapsack, where he stored
his victuals. “Could I have my dagger back for a moment?”

Her gaze sharpened on him. “Why?”

“Because I want to pare the rind off a wedge of cheese.”

Sophie reached in her reticule and handed him the knife. “Skye told me about your
constant hunger pains. She also said that you learned to defend yourself with swords
and pistols and knives. I suppose that is why you have this dagger.”

“It is. I always carry it with me. I have my coats tailored with a special pocket
to conceal it.”

Her eyes widened. “Even your evening clothes?”

“Even those.”

“I think it sad that you feel compelled to hide a knife on your person.”

“I don’t want your pity, Sophie,” he said curtly.

“Well, you have it anyway. Not for Jack the man, but for Jack the young boy. What
you went through … I can’t even begin to imagine how horrible it must have been for
you.”

Dredging up those dark memories made his voice drop a register. “I was lucky to be
rescued. Many children don’t escape those circumstances.”

“Skye said you made a pet out of a dormouse to help you survive the loneliness of
captivity.”

“Skye talks far too much.”

Despite the bite in his reply, Sophie kept prodding. “What was its name?”

She wasn’t going to give up, Jack realized. He gave an exasperated sigh but answered
her meddlesome question under duress. “I called him Pip—short for pipsqueak. He made
these funny little squeaking sounds when he snored.”

“A dormouse actually snores?”

A reluctant smile curved his mouth. “Surprisingly,
yes. At least mine did. I spent as much time trying to keep him quiet as trying to
save him from hunger. I was always terrified Gautier would hear the noise and crush
Pip with his boots. Those boots were something to be dreaded.”

Sophie’s expression clouded with compassion, but he sensed her carefully striving
for neutrality in her tone. “You were always hungry yourself, but you shared your
food anyway?”

He shrugged. “Pip only needed crumbs to stay alive. And as you said, he helped me
survive the loneliness.”

Jack fell silent as he reflected on his past. He’d found great consolation in his
friendship with the tiny mouse and was grateful when his uncle let him keep Pip and
take him home to England. He hadn’t even needed to ask, which was fortunate since
he couldn’t speak at the time. For some reason all his words stuck in his throat.
Thankfully, that had changed when Skye was born. He’d ceased being the frightened,
withdrawn child his uncles had found cowering in a tavern attic.

“I still don’t like being alone,” Jack confessed absently.

“I can certainly understand why,” Sophie said in another show of sympathy. “And I
now comprehend why you are so determined to rescue unwed mothers. Not only because
you couldn’t save your own mother, but because you know what it is like to be helpless
and alone.”

Her ardent tone snapped him out of his reverie. Sophie had correctly guessed his motives,
but he disliked
admitting them. He also regretted divulging his chief weakness: being afraid of solitary
confinement.

Sophie seemed not to notice his discontent, though, as she continued her observations.
“I think it says a great deal about your character, Jack. Even at a young age you
were bent on protecting others.”

“There is no need to try to turn me into a hero,” he drawled with an edge of mocking
humor.

“You are already a hero in my eyes.”

“Yesterday I was a villain in your eyes.”

She gave a soft laugh. “True. You are definitely both.”

“And you are insufferably nosy.”

“Only because I know it helps to talk about one’s feelings.”

“Well, I have done enough talking for one day.”

She flashed him a smile. “For this morning, yes, but I assure you, you are not done
yet. If I have to endure a three-day journey with you, I intend to exact compensation
for my inconvenience.”

Jack couldn’t help but smile inwardly as Sophie opened the book of sonnets and began
to read. He’d surprised himself, baring his soul to her again when even the slightest
recollection of those dark days still made his stomach tighten into knots. Although
she’d demanded greater discourse as her price for accompanying him, he could have
evaded her queries or even prevaricated. He’d never revealed so much about his time
in captivity to anyone else. For all his closeness to his family, he was very private
and he faced his demons privately.

Thus, Sophie’s relentless exploration of his “feelings” was highly annoying, in addition
to being extremely
painful. He’d cut off his emotions from the time he was a child, locking up the torment
inside him. And as an adult, he didn’t trust outsiders easily. Yet there was something
about Sophie that slipped under his guard and annihilated all his defenses.