My Seductive Innocent (13 page)

He studied her as she toyed with her cropped hair. “What happened to your hair?” he asked, not realizing he was even going to inquire about it until he words had left his mouth.

A fiery blush covered her pale, gaunt cheeks. “Frank cut it off for money.” She sniffed and looked down. Her hands gripped the shabby material of her dress. “It was my only good feature,” she whispered, her voice throbbing with restrained tears.

Sympathy he hadn’t even realized he had the capability to feel with such painful depth pierced his heart, his gut, and his lungs to rob him of breath. It occurred to him clearly, then, what it was he liked so much about her. Despite everything, she seemed to possess hope and an indomitable spirit. He’d be damned if he would let her father kill that and fill her with shame. He knew shame. It dwelled within him like an old cobweb in a high corner that he couldn’t quite reach to brush away. It was not an emotion someone should have to live with day after day.

He stared at Sophia’s clasped hands, uncertain how to proceed, or maybe simply uncertain what to say. He understood what should be done, and not just for the sake of honor but for the sake of Sophia and her brother. If he took her back to her father and left her there, it would be like leaving a lamb to be slaughtered. She’d run, he was certain of it, but the thought of what she would find as a welcome on the cold, hard streets of London chilled him.

He clenched his fingers in at attempt to stop the throbbing in his injured arm, aware of the child’s eyes on him as he did so, so he forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The fragile boy reminded him too damn much of himself. After he married Sophia, the first thing he would do was send the boy off to school. He didn’t want a constant reminder of the weak child he once was living underfoot.

“Look at me,” he commanded. If they were going to be married, it was best she understood from the outset that he had no use for love. He did not need it, nor want it. Weak men longed for love.
Foolish men.
But as her bright-blue eyes bore into him, and he noted the smallest quivering of her bottom lip, he decided there would be plenty of time to make his feelings on the matter clear. It was more important to dispel of her shame right now, which she didn’t deserve to bear.

“I want to make sure I have all the facts straight before we proceed. Will you answer a few of my questions?”

“Maybe,” she said, raising her chin in defiance.

Nathan chuckled. She may be ashamed but it was only because she had a great amount of pride and fight. He found himself oddly pleased that she did. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he tried to determine what he needed to know. “Do you have any relatives other than your father?”

She shook her head but then cast her gaze to her brother.

Nathan waved a hand. “I mean older relatives that could take you in.”

When she frowned, he sighed. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’ve already run through that scenario and have concluded it would not help you.” She’d not reached her majority; therefore she was under her father’s rule.

“I don’t understand,” she mumbled.

“I’ll explain momentarily.” He wanted to talk to her, but some of the things that needed to be discussed might hurt the child’s feelings. He turned to the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Harry.”

“Harry, will you please give your sister and me a moment of privacy?”

The boy’s eyes rounded, and he gaped.

Nathan glanced to Sophia for guidance. She looked at her brother and tears suddenly glistened in her eyes. “He’s not used to a man asking him to do anything. He’s used to being ordered, shoved, pushed, and threatened.”

Barely checked rage rose in Nathan’s throat and made talking difficult for a moment. He swallowed and met Sophia’s gaze first and then Harry’s. “That’s unfortunate. I promise I will never threaten you, shove you, or push you.”

Harry smiled. “You left out c-c-command.”

Nathan reached around Sophia and ruffled the boy’s hair. “So I did,” he said carefully, intentionally not promising not to command. Harry was a child, after all. “Will you go sit under that tree for a few minutes?” Nathan asked, indicating the large poplar tree not ten feet away.

Harry nodded and scrambled down and out of the carriage.

Once the boy was five paces away, Nathan spoke. “As I understand things your father―”

“Frank,” she corrected with a mutinous look.

He understood all too well her desire not to call the man
father
. “Vane,” he conceded. “I’m guessing upon learning who I was he decided he wanted you to be a duchess.”

She laughed, not merry but brittle. “It had nothing to do with wanting anything for me. He wanted to get his grubby hands on some of your money, and I suppose he thought your marrying me would entitle him to some of it.”

“Vane is not very bright,” Nathan replied.

Sophia grinned, and two delightful dimples appeared in her cheeks that he’d previously failed to notice. Was she always going to be such a constant surprise? The notion caused him to tense. His mother had been a constant surprise for years—one minute happy, the next as volatile as a storm, and always dangling the possibility of attaining her love if he could prove he was worthy. He dismissed the useless memory.

“I tried to tell him that you would never marry me and that you weren’t the sort to be coerced, but he always has his own ideas.” She’d cast her gaze downward again, and she was fiddling with her dress.

Nathan hooked a finger under her chin and nudged her until she looked up. “I believe you have a mistaken notion as to why I would never marry you.”

She blinked. “I don’t believe so. You don’t want a wife, for one.”

“I have accepted for some time that I would eventually need to take a wife.”

“Oh.” Her lips parted for a moment. “But I doubt you had any intentions of picking a guttersnipe.”

“You are not a guttersnipe,” he growled, enraged that her father had made her feel so.

“Close enough. I’m no lady.”

He cupped her chin, and her beautiful eyes widened. “I’ve known a lot of so-called ladies in my lifetime, and if you are not one, then I much prefer what you seem to be.”

Her mouth had parted again, but after a moment, she spoke. “You’re an interesting contradiction.”

So was she. She appeared very fragile with her slight build, but she was strong. “In what way?” he asked.

She licked her lips before speaking. “One minute you’re hot and the next you’re cold. One minute you seem to like me and the next you don’t.”

Her comments froze his blood. She’d described exactly what he had experienced with his mother before she’d become a permanently cold draft. Was he like his mother?

No. He refused to accept that. The notion was preposterous. But if he was like her... His heart seized beating for a moment. “It seems my mother is having the last laugh on me.”

Sophia cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

He considered telling her things he’d never spoken to anyone, but he dismissed the notion as quickly as it had come into his mind. Sophia was going to be his duchess but that didn’t mean he would bare his soul to her. “She wasn’t the warmest person, and at times could be unpredictable in how she would react.” The answer was vague enough to suit him.

Sophia squeezed his arm. “I understand. I’m quick to anger, and I vow I get that from Frank. We all inherit things from our parents, but I firmly believe that, with enough desire and effort, we can control how we react.”

Sophia’s understanding and acceptance of his flaw touched him deeply. Deeper than he cared for it to touch him. He moved back on the seat so they would no longer be touching and studied her for a few seconds. He liked her—an undeniable truth. In addition, he admired her courage. But he needed to remember that she’d likely destroy the good feelings and obliterate the admiration, just as his mother had done in his father. In fact, he’d do well to expect it. “Tell me what were you planning to do with your life before I came along?”

She looked at him askance. “I am
still
planning to flee my father and take Harry with me.”

He’d suspected as much, but he simply nodded for her to continue.

“I’ve been saving up money to go to London with my brother.”

He had a picture of her walking the streets of London toting her brother behind her in search of somewhere to sleep for the night, and his gut hardened with fear. “What had you planned on doing once you were in London?”

She shoved back a strand of hair that the increasing wind was blowing across her face and then she hugged herself, and it occurred to him she was probably cold, dressed as she was in such an ill-suited garment for the weather. Wincing against the pain of his injury, he shrugged out of his coat as she spoke and placed it over her shoulders, giving her a shake of his head when it appeared she would protest.

“I plan to find whatever work I can immediately. But eventually, I’ll become a governess, chaperone, or lady’s companion.”

Her undeniable hope for the future touched him and made him ache for her.

“I’m also going to send Harry to school,” she added.

“And you have enough money saved up?”

Her face fell. “I almost did... But Frank stole it, the scab.”

“So how do you expect to get to London?” he asked, curious to what it was she had planned.

She eyed him, and as she did, her cheeks turned pink. “I was hoping you might lend me the money. Harry and I cannot go back to Frank. He’ll just sell him to Mr. Exington again once you’re gone. I hate to tell you that since you just purchased my brother’s freedom, which I greatly appreciate, but what you bought was a temporary reprieve.”

Nathan had already come to that conclusion himself. “Yes, I suspected, but there was no course but the one I took. I could have taken your brother from Mr. Exington but the man did pay for him.”

“Yes, he did,” Sophia replied in a cold voice that reminded him of his own when he was angry. He laughed, despite the somber conversation and the pain radiating in his shoulder and arm.

“If you were a man, Sophia, you would be one not to be taken for granted.”

“And as a woman?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing and growing dark and stormy.

“Ah, I never take a woman for granted. Doing so can be lethal. I appreciate to the very chambers of my beating black heart how much havoc a woman can create.”

She grinned. “I don’t think that was a compliment, per se, but I’ll take it as such.”

“I’m glad,” he replied, smiling in return.

“So will you lend me money? I promise to pay you back as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do better than lend you money to help you escape. I’ll take you away myself.”

With a frown, she pulled his overcoat up around her chin and gave him a wary look, one that bespoke of years of mistreatment by every man she had ever known. Her pain felt as if it were his own. His blood ran cold, and he had to fight the urge not to run from her. He would not care for her; it was as simple as that.

Sophia nibbled on her lip for a moment before responding. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Do you mean you will give Harry and me a ride to London?” She looked around them. “Well, the curricle is small, but we don’t mind sitting close if you don’t.”

“I mean I’ll marry you, and yes, take you to London, but we will probably go to my country home first.”

Her mouth parted, and a look that could only be described as disbelief passed over her features. “You want to marry me?”

“I don’t see a choice,” he said honestly. “You’re ruined. Quite irreparably, it seems. And you cannot stay with your fath― Vane,” he corrected awkwardly.

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and she cleared her throat. “You and I both know you cannot be forced to marry me. No one will care that you don’t.”

Her halting words displayed her hurt. He didn’t regret telling her the truth and forgoing flowery lies. He was not one to pretend, whether it would save someone’s feelings or not. “I’d care. I’d care what happens to you because you saved my life.”

“That’s no reason to marry.”

“It’s reason enough,” he clipped, amazed she was arguing with him.

She scowled. “If you will simply lend me money, I’ll get my brother and myself to London and the rest will work out.”

He clenched and unclenched his jaw before speaking. “I hate to be blunt, but for the sake of preventing either one—or all three of us—from catching our death sitting in the dropping winter temperatures, you force me to be direct. I could lend you all the money in the world but your soiled reputation will remain ruined without my marrying you.”

She jutted out her chin. “My reputation here always did hang in a precarious position, thanks to Frank. Besides, no one in London will know about what happened in Newmarket.”

“You fool yourself, Sophia. Look at what happened with Mrs. Dalton and Mr. Exington. Do you really think they are the only two people who will be treating you as a lightskirt? It’s only a matter of time until some gossipmonger from your town travels to London and takes zealous pleasure in spreading the rumors.”

“No one cares about me enough to do that. And no one knows me in London.”

“But they know me,” he said on a heavy sigh. “And I tell you this without the least bit of pride or pleasure that they care in London far too much about what
I
do. My goings and comings are, unfortunately, like a tantalizing drug to the wickedly bored
ton
. Once they hear a whisper of a scandal with my name attached to it, they’ll gobble it up, and you with it unless we are married.”

“I don’t care. They can talk all they want. I’ll go about my business of getting educated and finding work.”

“No one will be willing to educate you once they hear the rumors of your dallying with me.” He didn’t want to hurt her, but she had to understand the reality. “You would never secure a position as any of the things you mentioned because the biggest requirement for those occupations is a sterling reputation, which I’m afraid you no longer come close to having. At best, you could possibly work as a barmaid or seamstress, but you and your brother could not live on either of those jobs’ wages, and you’d never be able to scrape enough money together to send your brother away to school. I could pay for you to live somewhere nicer than you could afford on your own, but that would likely have the effect of people speculating that I’m keeping you.”