Sophia felt as though the ground above them collapsed upon her. Her face paled and her breath caught in her throat. She frantically jumped to her feet, no longer hiding the panic she felt inside her. "I was not told of this plan."
Marcus' form turned toward her. His head tilted to the right telling Sophia he was assessing her with great confusion. "You were never part of the planning, Sophia." His voice was soft and gentle. He did not want her to take offense, but the fact that he was being careful to care for her feelings angered her further.
Her hands balled into fists and her voice shook with emotion. "We were merely supposed to know the extent of what the Guards know, Marcus. You wanted to know to pave the way for your goals. There was no talk of harming anyone."
Suddenly the air between them grew far beyond tension. She could feel the anger simmering inside him as he stepped closer and peered at her. "Have you allowed yourself to be taken to bed by that man, Sophia?"
Her jaw twitched. "What did you expect me to do, Marcus? Seduce him to boredom?"
Suddenly his hand grasped her upper arm and he pulled her toward him none too gently. "You are proving to me that you are your mother's daughter," he rasped above her.
She pushed him away and he let her. "Who ordered that I take Nicholas Everard into my chamber?" she cried out, a tear falling down her face. "He was never supposed to be allowed entry in my chamber, Marcus, but you told me to open my door and I did. He is not like the others and he is not like you. He expected more and I was not ready to simply let him walk away. I had to do what he expected me to do to serve my purpose to you!"
Marcus was silent for a very long time. "You are acting like a horribly infatuated whore."
All reasons wanted to erupt within her but she held them together. There was no use arguing with with extreme anger where Marcus was concerned. Instead of bursting out, she held up her chin and glared at him as if she could see into his very soul. "Then mayhap I am and I do not like this plan of yours! It is foolish!"
"You promised to obey me at all cost," he reminded her. "I took you under my care, Sophia, despite everything. Do not make me regret it."
He stormed out of her chamber, leaving Sophia in a state of silent panic.
*****
When Nicholas came for another visit the very next day, Sophia was surprised to find him with a bundle of what seemed like plants.
"What are those?" she asked, taking in the fresh scent slowly enveloping the chamber.
She hoped she did not sound too ecstatic. She was wary to let her guard down after their odd conversation last time and the argument with Marcus, moreover after what she learned about Marcus' plans.
"Flowers, of course," Nicholas said, walking toward her. "I happen to grow a few in Whiston. Here, take them."
He thrust the bundle into her arms and Sophia instinctively bent down to smell them. Her hand lightly hovered over to feel the flowers. With delicate touch of her fingers, she felt for the shapes of the petals. They were not all the same.
"Wild flowers," he explained in a nonchalant tone, taking a seat in the winged chair. He started to untie his cravat. "Have I told you that Ysabella used to deliver a flower in Wakefield's residence every Friday for two bloody years?"
She looked up with an amused smile. "I am not surprised."
"And never did he bother to come down and receive one in person."
Her lips twitched.
"My blood is still boiling at the thought of it."
"Her efforts were returned, I assume?"
"I have no bloody idea but that bastard seems to make her adequately happy if not excessively."
Sophia bent down to smell the flowers again, closing her eyes to imagine what they looked like. But all she could picture were the shadows of the plants she saw in the woods. Were they the same? Or were they different?
"You are smelling a yellow flower which I am afraid I do not know the name of. Its petals are thin and layered above one another. The center is white. It is a pretty one."
This time Sophia could not hold back her smile. "Thank you."
"There are ten different ones at the very least andâ"
"Perhaps we shall have more time to discuss their shapes later," she said, placing the bundle beside her. "Have you talked to your brother?"
"Yes," he said with a sigh, standing to his fee to join her beside the chaise. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and he leaned back and stretched his legs in front. He seemed tired. "You have not made me fall asleep last night, Sophie. I am too bloody tired. No woman has ever had such effect on me in my thoughts."
Sophia lifted one hand to rest on his cheek. "What are his plans?"
"Who?"
"Your brother, Ralph."
"I do not wish to talk about his plans, Sophie. I'd rather we talk about your plans. And besides, I do not know of their every move. I may have helped Ralph and the Guards, but they do not tell me everything."
Sophia held her breath beside Nicholas.
"I simply pray that the Guards will be able to catch one of the men in that exchange. Just one man that is within the inner circle of the trade and everything will be spilled. The Guards know many ways on how to make a man talk, I believe."
She stayed quiet, her mind reeling with what to do. It was not a question that she ought to save Nicholas' brother and the Guards, but the how was what was making her think. Telling Nicholas about the ambush could lead to many altercations. She did not want to be forced to tell him everything for if she did, everything Marcus had worked for in the past shall crumble.
She could never let that happen. She could never let Marcus fall, not when he was too close.
"Well, have you packed your things yet?" Nicholas teased beside her, back to his playful self.
Sophia simply shook her head.
He turned to face her. "Does that mean you have not packed or is that your way of showing you find my question incredulous?"
She cupped his face with her hand and planted a light kiss on his cheek. "It means I do not know how to handle you, Nicholas Everard."
He laughed and it was music to her ears. Sometimes when he would laugh like that, she found herself thinking that she would rather spend her entire life listening to his laughter, to his words, his tales than see him. It was in moments such as this that Sophia felt she need not see. Nicholas Everard had the ability to show her what she could not.
"You doubt me," he softly said a moment later as he took her hand from his face to clasp between his strong ones.
"I reserve the right to do so, Nick."
"Have your life been horribly difficult that you cannot trust anyone but yourself?"
She refused to answer. How could she even begin to tell him of the horrors she was forced to face?
"Will you ever tell me of your mysterious past?"
It was not the way he said it that made her want to tell him. It was the thought that soon she would not ever see him again. This life in Rock'oles was merely temporary for both of them. For her, she would be elsewhere with Marcus in the future and there would be no place for someone as innocent as Nicholas Everard.
While for him, she was like many other women before her. She could easily be replaced. He could find another chamber or another expensive brothel like Rock'oles.
Her story would not matter to anyone should he ever repeat it.
She was unknown. She was unimportant. She was a nobody, and she would continue to be so until she perished.
"I woke up one day without memory of who I was." She felt him stiffen in surprise beside her. Oh, how she would love to see the look on his face. He was probably gaping in disbelief. "I had nothing but the intense ache in my head. Not my vision, not even my voice." She bitterly smiled as the memory of voices and sounds came back to her. Apart from her dreams, she never dared think of them until now. "A man who claimed to be my uncle told me that I was injured. He took care of me until I was well and the headache disappeared but the shadows and lights never did. My vision never came back."
She let the silence linger for she could not go further. She could not think of how her uncle started to change. She could not speak of the disgusting things he had done to her, or the filthy way he and his friends touched her. She could not dare herself to consciously remember and tell Nicholas of the many nights she had prayed they would let her die.
But Nicholas was not naïve, nor was he foolish.
His hand tightened around her. "This uncle of yours, is he still alive?" His voice was void of its playfulness. There was raw anger in each word.
"I cannot say," she said with a shrug. "And that is all you will know about my past. It no longer concerns me."
"But what of the one you cannot remember?"
"That is also not one I cannot discuss. I cannot remember still."
He was silent for a moment before he asked, "Do you not want to know about the life you have forgotten?"
She smiled. "What made you believe I do not know?"
"Sophie, you just said thatâ"
"âI cannot remember, yes. But it does not entail I do not know my past."
"You are deliberately confusing me."
She chuckled. "Then stop with the questions, my lord." She drew away from him and walked to the bed. "Would you wish to make love now or later?"
When he did not reply, she turned around and found his form still in the chaise. He was staring at something on the floor. She followed the direction of his head and found Brigid's small form crouched near the table.
"My lord?" she asked.
"Sophie, do you know that Brigid has green eyes?"
Sophie smiled. She had not yet made up her mind if she liked this side of him, the one that could easily forget a sensitive topic in exchange of a petty one.
"I believe you have already mentioned it in passing, yes."
"Precisely like Mrs. Beagle's."
Sophia stifled a laugh. "Nick, please, we are not talking about that again."
He started to move with caution as he reached for Brigid but the cat jumped away. "I will take her back to Emma. I will catch her today and put her in my coat. She needs to bloody go home. And when she does, a cage shall be at the ready."
"The cat will stay here where she belongs," she said, walking toward Nicholas. He stood up and met her in the middle of the chamber. His lips hovered above hers in a teasing manner he learned to adapt in the weeks they had been together. And many times she had been tempted.
His hands ran up and down her sides, tracing her curves as his mouth traveled along her jaw, his breath hot and thick against her skin.
"Will you be at the exchange?" she asked breathlessly. Her dress dropped weightless around her feet.
"Why do you ask?"
She needed to ask. She needed to know.
"No, I will not be at the exchange," he confirmed when she did not offer a reply. "I am not a Guard. I will die in battle if one shall ensue."
She forced herself to chuckle at his quip, a sigh of relief rushing out of her mouth.
"But my brother will be there."
For a brief moment she did not feel his mouth hotly kissing her neck or his hand kneading her breast. She did not even notice that he managed to lead her to the bed and on her back.
She stared up at his shadowy face above her.
She knew he was smiling as he said, "Fret not, darling, Ralph is far better than me with swords and pistols."
"And bombs?" she asked, feigning humor.
Laughter rumbled in his chest as he bent down to trail his lips down her throat to the peak of one breast. "I have no idea," he said before covering the bud with his mouth.
Sophia allowed her eyes to close as a tear rolled down her face.
His family was everything to him. And his happiness was everything to her.
She could not let it happen.
She must stop it.
For Sophia believed that their future, separate as they would be, shall depend on Nicholas Everard's happiness.