Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,90
the title or not. It will be your burden to bear, but I know you can do good. Would do good.”
“Haven’t we made enough decisions in our lives without asking for help or considering others?”
“I thought you said you understood why I made those choices.”
He took her hands in his. “I’m not judging you. I’m saying we should consider each other now. If you’re to be my wife, then we need to make the choices here on in.”
“I haven’t agreed to become your wife.”
“You will.” Blake chuckled. He felt lighter now than he had in fourteen years. This time it didn’t matter what she did or where she went. He would follow her and never let her go.
“You think to force me? Wear me down?”
Blake took her hand in his and began walking toward where the horse stood grazing quietly. He didn’t want to let her go. Not even for a second. “I would never force you to do anything.” He stared at her sideways. “Well, I may force you to take a bath. You look as though you rolled through a paddock.”
“I may as well have,” she muttered as her hand relaxed in his and her stride lengthened to keep pace.
“So a boy and a girl? Are they really all right?”
“They’re excellent. It was the most difficult night of my life. And the best.”
“Do you think maybe you could make a life out of delivering babies?”
Sophie’s nose wrinkled and she shook her head. “Never. I would never want to do it again for as long as I live.”
They both laughed at that. He didn’t want any of the details, but he could imagine.
As he walked alongside the animal, wondering how they were both going to fit on the narrow saddle, relishing the idea of holding her on his lap as they made their way back to the inn, the sounds of hooves reached him again.
At first he thought they might belong to Daemon, but the noise came from the other direction and the rising level signaled more than one horse.
Blake held the reins in his hand and without a word, helped Sophie into the saddle.
“I don’t ride well, Blake, and this is not a side saddle.”
The feeling of unease multiplied in him when a carriage and pair barreled around the bend, headed straight for the fork in the road behind where they stood. He recognized at once the conveyance and the driver behind the horses, a look of anger and desperation on his face.
He was not in the mood for a confrontation with a debt-ridden former duke.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Charles is fleeing,” Sophie stated, her voice low despite the distance between them and him.
“That was the original idea.”
“Where do you think he will go?”
“The Continent? The Americas? He’s lucky he isn’t being shipped off with the criminals. But as long as it isn’t here, I don’t care.”
They stood and watched as he drew closer. Blake held his breath and hoped the man kept going, that he wouldn’t find the need to stop.
But Blake’s luck had been used up in finding Sophie and as the carriage came to a stop, Charles threw the brake on and jumped to the ground, eyes positively glinting with malice.
Blake swore under his breath.
“This is all your fault,” Charles screeched, his fists at his sides as he advanced.
Blake sighed. “I hardly see how any of the blame can be laid at my door.”
“If you had kept your mouth shut, the King would never have discovered the details of your birth. I would still be a duke and you would still be a nobody.”
Blake didn’t like the wild look in Charles’s eyes but this confrontation had to come. Be it now or when the rat crawled back from the hole he would find to hide in. “I didn’t tell the King anything. Do you really think he would have listened to me, anyway? I’m a nobody. Nobodies do not get heard by the King of England.”
“Then how did he find out? I’ll kill the man who took this all away from me.”
“Does it matter? Your gambling put you here. Not the man, not the King and certainly not me. I don’t even want to be a duke.”
Charles roared. “It shouldn’t even be a choice for you! From the sounds of it, your mother was nothing more than an ambitious slut. What did she do to get the old duke to marry her?”
The words stung. They stung more for the fact that he’d said the exact same words to