“Do you know him?” the earl asked, his fingertips touching the center of her back, a featherlight connection from which she drew much-needed strength.
Catherine moved toward the small outbuilding sheltering her daughter. The disgusting little man was far too close, and Catherine couldn’t stop the niggling suspicion that something was wrong. “I’ve never seen him before,” she said over her shoulder. “Please excuse me. I must check on my daughter.”
“Mrs. Ashcroft, allow me to assist.”
She hastened across the churchyard, the earl’s voice growing more distant. She couldn’t respond, nor could she motion for him to follow. Something propelled her forward with an inexplicable drive to put her body between that of her daughter’s and the terrible little man.
Please be in the privy, please be in the privy. I swear if you’re not I’m going to lash your behind.
The fact she had never laid a disciplining hand on her daughter was immaterial. Simply making the threat gave her overactive mind something to center on besides the horrifying images that it kept dredging up.
“Sophie,” she called from a carriage length away.
No answer.
“Sophie—”
A large hand clamped around her elbow. She whirled about, her reticule arcing out to bash her assailant’s head.
Lord Somerton blocked her swing with his forearm. “Easy,” he said in a calm, not-the-least-bit-perturbed voice.
“My lord, release me.” She pulled at her arm, her gaze returning to the small outbuilding. She felt mild embarrassment for her overreaction, but she didn’t have time to beg his forgiveness. “Something’s amiss with my daughter.”
“Stay here.” He marched ahead of her and tested the door. Locked. “Miss Sophie.” His voice held authority, a note many would not dare ignore.
Catherine, never one to take orders where her daughter was concerned, joined him at the privy’s entrance, garnering her a sharp look. Why hadn’t Sophie answered his call? Why hadn’t she opened the door? She glanced at his profile, taking some solace in his presence, especially after noting the determined set to his masculine features.
“Allow me, my lord.” She made to yank on the bolted door.
He caught her hand, and his thumb smoothed over the backs of her fingers. “A moment, Mrs. Ashcroft.”
He knocked again, louder this time. “Miss Sophie, this is your neighbor, Lord Somerton, and I’m here with your mother. If you do not come out in five seconds, I’ll be forced to kick down the door.”
Nothing but an unearthly silence met his warning.
“Five. Four…”
“Sophie dear, please come out,” Catherine pleaded. Each number tightened the fist clutching her heart. “I’m not hurt or upset, so you needn’t hide in there.”
“Two. One.” The earl grabbed the latch. “I’m coming in, Miss Sophie.”
“No!” shrieked a strangled voice from within.
Catherine shared a quick look with the earl. “Sophie, are you well?”
“No,” her daughter cried. Muffled sobs penetrated the privy’s oak-planked door.
“Ask if she’s injured,” the earl quietly demanded.
“Sweetheart, are you injured?”
“No.” Her voice sounded small, defeated.
The oppressive tension diminished to a trickle of apprehension. Catherine heard the earl release a breath.
He stepped back several feet. “Perhaps she needs her mother.”
Catherine nodded. “Unlatch the door, dear.”
She heard the telltale slide of wood against wood. A moment later, Catherine slid through the small opening, holding her breath against the stench of a well-used facility. It took a second or two for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. When they did, she found her daughter backed into a corner, her face wet with tears. “What’s wrong?” She worried she already knew why her daughter refused to leave.
Her normally brave little girl bit her bottom lip and cast her gaze to the floor.
Catherine moved closer, wanting to get out of this stinking building that was the size of a broom closet, but knew she must first coax her daughter into confiding in her. She bent at the knees until they stood face-to-face, and Catherine knew immediately why her daughter had refused to leave.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Sweetheart, did you have an accident?”
A small nod. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
Catherine cradled her daughter’s small chin and forced her head around until their watery gazes met. “No need to apologize, pumpkin. You tried to tell me.”
“How am I to leave here without all my friends knowing what I’ve done?”
“Let me worry about that.” Catherine rose. “Stay here a moment.”
Sophie grasped Catherine’s sleeve. “Mama, don’t leave me.”
“Have I ever broken a promise to you?”
“No.”
Catherine kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I promise to return in two minutes.”
Her daughter swallowed, glancing between the door and the pit sitting in the middle