Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,84
went out in it in the first place.”
Blake shook his head, droplets spraying back into the still falling rain. “I can’t lose her again,” he repeated, but more to himself and in complete defeat. Matthew was right. If they hadn’t found her the first time she’d fled on a cool, clear night, then they wouldn’t find her in the middle of all this either.
She was a strong woman. She was too clever for her own good. His heart sank. When they did find her, and they would, she would be even angrier with him. He was sure of it. He’d had trouble forgiving her for what she’d done to him fourteen years ago, but the tables had turned. Everything was different now.
He only hoped she found it in her heart to forgive him for being a fool.
* * *
Violet was the picture of radiance as she sighed and settled farther into the mattress, her adoring eyes only leaving one cherubic face to glance to the other.
Sophie still couldn’t believe it. Two babies? Who would have guessed? She suspected Violet had. “Why did you never tell Matthew that there were two babies?”
“I wasn’t certain. It was only a feeling I had and he would have only fussed more.”
“He may not have left your side if he’d known.”
Violet half groaned, half laughed. “Thank the Lord I didn’t mention it, then.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle, but the laugh soon turned into a yawn.
“You should get some rest,” Violet told her, her own eyelids drooping despite the effort to stay awake.
“You are the one who should rest. I should get back to town and let Matthew know he is the father of not one baby but two.”
“You can’t go back out into this storm. Even if you made the bridge, it would be treacherous.”
Sophie had forgotten about the bridge. Even if she wanted to get back, she couldn’t. There was only one other way back to Blakiston and she wouldn’t make it in the dark let alone the rain and flooding. “You’re right,” she sighed. “The bridge was washed away, so I guess it’s just the four of us tonight.”
“They know where you are anyway, so they won’t worry.”
“Uh, no they don’t.”
“What happened? Sophie, what were you doing on your way out here?”
She bit her lip. The woman had just given birth. How much could she burden her with? In the end, she decided everything. Violet had the right to know.
“Do you know much about Blake’s history?”
“I know a bit.”
“None of us really knew anything at all. His mother was married to the old duke.”
“So he is the rightful heir?”
Sophie nodded. “St. Ives came to make him a duke.”
“What did Blake say?”
“He refused. He is the most stubborn, fool-headed, idiot of a man. He could have made things so much better around here and instead he lied. Lied to everyone.”
“He must have had his reasons.”
“I don’t care what his reasons were. He made a decision to fool everyone so he didn’t have to take on the responsibility of the estate.”
“There had to be more to it than that. A man doesn’t do something for no reason, especially not a man like Blake.”
“Sometimes decisions made under duress have no reason, you choose the smoother of the paths at the fork in the road.”
“Is that what you did?” Violet asked in a small voice as she leaned back against the pillows once more.
Sophie sighed. It’s exactly what she did. At one turn there was her father and the duke and at the other, London. She’d had no idea what living in the city would entail. If she had, things might have been different. “I made the choice between the lesser of two evils. You all pity me my life, but between the hardest of hard lives or death at the hands of a vicious man, I would always take life.”
“But at the time, when you thought those were the only two choices, you neglected the third. I’m not sure if it was intentional or not, but why did you not ask Matthew or Blake for help?”
“It was too late. I never thought my father would actually go through with the deal.”
“What deal?”
She’d forgotten that Violet didn’t know as much as everyone else. For a second time, she poured her story out and hoped for empathy rather than disgust.
Violet gave her neither, in fact she radiated indignation. “And after? Could you not have gone to Matthew before you fled?”