Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,40

forward, his hand out toward her.

Sophia shook her head a little harder than she probably needed to and her heart thumped loudly against her ribs. He didn’t look terribly frightening, but it was the quiet ones she had to watch out for. “I will be fine, thank you. It isn’t the first and it won’t be the last.”

“Yer that Martin girl, aren’t ya?”

She nodded, her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out if she had once known this man. He looked vaguely familiar, but then so did most of the men thereabouts who wore farmer’s clothing. “Do I know you?”

This time it was the stranger who shook his head. “Not yet, lass.”

When he smiled, Sophia cringed. What was left of the man’s teeth were blackened and his lips were stained yellow.

“Well, I really must be getting back to the kitchen. If the bread burns, I will be in mighty trouble with Blake.”

The stranger made a sound of dismissal and shook his head again. He also took another step toward her.

“Good day, sir.” She couldn’t turn her back and flee, but neither could she return to the kitchen without the timber. Before she had a chance to make a decision, another man rounded the corner of the inn. Her stomach flip flopped. Now she was outnumbered and the new man stood between her and the kitchen door. Between her and safety.

“Roger,” the new stranger inclined his head slowly, taking stock of the scene they must make.

Sophia’s clammy hands clenched in her skirts now. If she had to flee, she would lift them high and run as if the devil were after her.

“McFarlane,” Roger replied but said nothing more.

McFarlane. She remembered that name. He was holding the dance on Friday night at his home. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she was relieved, but the fact that Blake had mentioned his name more than once told her he was the lesser of the evils before her.

“Miss Martin, I wonder if you could use some help with that firewood?” Mr. McFarlane asked with an easy smile in her direction.

She nodded and stepped away from both men. She was moving farther away from the kitchen, but she had to do something. In London, she was virtually untouchable since Daemon was her protector, or had been, but here, here everything was different and she would be foolish indeed to forget that.

“I was about to offer the lass assistance,” Roger told him defensively.

“Is that what you were doing?” Mr. McFarlane replied, putting himself between Sophia and Roger. “What about your back?”

Roger scowled. “That’s none of your damned business.”

“It is now. I don’t think Blake would take kindly to you being out here with the one woman who has come forward to help him.”

“I was only going to talk to her.”

Relief made it hard for Sophie to know what to do. Did she stay and argue? Did she leave and let Mr. McFarlane have it out with Roger?

“Sophia?” Dominic crashed through the kitchen door but then stopped short.

Thank God. She didn’t bid the gentlemen a good day. She didn’t thank Mr. McFarlane for coming to her aid or rebuke Roger for his being there to frighten her. She just picked up her skirts and walked as fast as she could without it looking as though she was terrified and running away. Why was it that the story of her life could almost be summed up with those few words? She was terrified, so she ran.

When she finally made it into the warm, safe confines of the kitchen, she leaned against the bench and took several deep breaths.

Dominic entered the kitchen with Mr. McFarlane not far behind him. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I am. Thank you.”

Mr. McFarlane sighed and dropped the load of wood he held. “He didn’t... Well, he didn’t do anything did he?”

“Roger? No. I really am grateful that you came along. Thank you.”

“You should not be outside on your own.”

She smiled at the kind man. “I will remember that.”

“Sophia?” Dominic was tense as he also dropped firewood into the box by the hearth. “His Grace just arrived. He says he won’t leave until he sees for himself that you are ‘unharmed from your nightmarish ordeal.’ But if you aren’t up to it, I’ll tell him to leave off.”

Sophia groaned. Dominic laughed.

Only five hours had passed since she had rolled her sleeves up and dived into flour and herbs, but it felt like ten or even twenty. The hair on the back