Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,36

tavern burst open and Matthew’s brooding face appeared in the early morning light. Sophia couldn’t have been happier to see him or his anger at that moment.

Blakiston stepped over the threshold and released her legs, causing her body to slide against his on purpose. Involuntarily her arms tightened about his neck to keep her balance. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she stepped away and mumbled her thanks, eyes downcast.

“Any time you are in need of assistance, Sophia, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, Blakiston, I shall keep that in mind.”

From the corner of her eye she noted Matthew watching the exchange. His expression went from brooding to furious at the use of her Christian name and the almost pleasant way she responded. Sophia barely held her groan in check. There was going to be a lot of explaining to do.

“I’m very grateful for your assistance, but now I think it is time I retired.” She turned from the knowing grin on the duke’s lips to her brother’s obvious concern. “Matthew, Blake is still out on the road with the broken cart, he needs a rescue party of his own.”

“The wagon’s hitched and ready to go. I believe thanks are required, Your Grace, but I’ll take care of my sister now.”

Blakiston raised his thin brows, flourished yet another of his overdone bows and retreated to his carriage.

Sophia sagged and fell heavily into the nearest chair. Suddenly her head ached abominably and her stomach felt hollow and sick.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell happened? Why were you with Blakiston at this time of the morning and what happened to Blake? Where were you last night?”

“One question at a time, Matthew, I have the most horrendous headache.”

Once the words passed her lips, the events of the night and morning caught up with her and her bottom lip trembled. Hot tears pricked her eyes but she willed them back. She was made of sterner stuff than to cry when she was whole and healthy and safe.

“One of the horses went lame and we had to shoot him. The other horse ran off, so we were stranded.”

“Why didn’t you walk back?” Matthew asked, suspicion still front and center in his eyes.

“I think Blake may have broken his ribs and he lost a lot of blood.”

“Christ! Are you all right?” Matthew finally took in her ragged appearance, the nasty gash on her head, how pale she must appear.

She nodded. Nothing a bath, sleep and a new coat of dignity wouldn’t repair.

“How could you leave Blake out there?” There was no question of why he hadn’t come back with her and Blakiston. There was no way Blake would get in that man’s carriage even if his life depended on it. Rot him anyway, she thought. It would do his ego good to think about his situation and his treatment of her. Never mind that being alone would also give his temper time to heighten and burn out.

“His injuries are not life threatening and someone needed to get word to you.”

Matthew raked a hand through his hair and then pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight. “I was worried about you.”

For a moment, she stiffened and wanted to push him away, and then in a moment of pure exhaustion and vulnerability, she melted into him and hugged him back. “You needn’t worry over me,” she whispered. But never had the words sounded so hollow in her life. For once, just once, she was glad someone worried for her. Maybe there was a person in the world who loved her still.

* * *

Blake scowled when he saw Matthew’s wagon approach. It was obvious he hadn’t hurried out to find him. Damn Sophia and her tears. She probably got back and spun a fine story about how he pawed her and shouted and drove her to get in a carriage with that slimy weasel. Her lips would have trembled and a fine show would have been witnessed by all.

His scowl was accompanied by a growl.

“You took your sweet time,” he called when the wagon neared. Two old nags trailed behind while Matthew and the bar hand, Dominic, rode up front.

“I can go back and leave you here if you want,” came Matthew’s laughing reply.

Laughing? Why wasn’t he facing him down with a pistol in his hands over his sister’s honor? “Damned if I want to spend another night like this.” His ribs were on fire and the multiple cuts and scrapes