Page 10 of Summoner of Sins

“Who is Plimpton?”

Now he was the shocked one. “Y-y-y-your u-u-uncle.”

“My uncle is Lord Allister Stanley.”

His mouth hung open, all his worries forgotten. Something was very wrong.

“Goddamnit, Sophie, where are you?” Another voice called from around a corner.

Miss Wren sat up a bit, drawing in a quick breath. “I’m here.”

Standing, he looked back down at Sophie. “See you soon.” He stepped back into the shadows, disappearing behind a hedge. Taking his hat off, he crouched down, determined to get more information.

Sophie might very well tell her uncle exactly where he was hiding, but he’d take the risk. Pulling out a pistol, he slowly loaded a lead ball.

“Who told you that you could leave the grounds?”

“Oh. My apologies. I just assumed. At home I was allowed?—”

“At my townhouse, I don’t have gardens. You’re not to wander off again.”

Sophie cleared her throat. He heard the rustle of her skirts as she stood. “Apologies, Uncle. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Now come on. Lord Whitehouse is spitting mad that you cried the nanny off.”

Max shook his head. Was Plimpton impersonating her uncle? An earl’s son, even a second son as Allister was supposed to be, did not say things like spitting mad. He’d say furious or frightfully angry.

Did Sophie know? He’d guess not. Which meant she wasn’t tucked in with family at all. They’d moved her here because they had some plans for her. But what would they want with a beautiful young woman? Shaking his head, he had a few ideas, none of them good. She could be bait. She’d been brought to his ball.

And then he’d danced with her. He hadn’t been enacting a plan; he’d been participating in theirs. At least that was one theory, but any other was even worse. Which meant Miss Sophie Wren and the little girl were in deep trouble. It wasn’t his place to do anything about it. He hadn’t caused any of this.

As he watched her walk away, he couldn’t quite shake the urge to rush to her side, punch Plimpton in the face, and carry her off. He couldn’t. She’d only be marginally safer at his side. He’d set himself in Lord Whitehouse’s path, which meant he could end up like the other men in his club. Dead.

He could not afford to care about a woman now. The very idea was ridiculous. That could only mean one thing. He’d gone mad, maybe from the silence? Either that or for the first time in a long time, he was attracted to a woman. Which was way worse than having lost his mind.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sophie stood on the outskirts of the garden party, trying hard not to be seen. Next to her, Tabbie wore a beautiful silk gown with a sheer wrap that mostly hid her scars. She looked lovely, her auburn hair shimmering in the sun right along with her clear, green eyes.

“Do you think they’d notice if we just disappeared?”

Tabbie rolled her eyes. “Yes. They’d notice. We’ve been asked to play croquet, blind man’s buff, and with those ridiculous hoops. Elsa is clearly trying to befriend you, and by extension me, even though she knows I’m a lost cause.”

“You were friends once?”

“Yes. Back when we were both at finishing school and men had not been introduced into our lives. But then I received these burns…” She pointed at her arm. “And she had her first season. When I came out a year later, she…” Tabbie’s mouth pinched. “She laughed at me and made fun of my marks in front of a large group of lords. Most of them laughed too.”

Sophie cringed. “That must have been dreadful.”

“I don’t think she had any idea that she’d only stiffen my spine, not weaken it.” Tabbie’s chin notched. “I fired back that night, about her ugliness being on the inside. A remark that also got a laugh, and we’ve been enemies ever since.”

Sophie reached for Tabbie’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

Tabbie gave her a soft smile. “Don’t be. I learned a great deal from all those experiences. One lesson was how to spot a genuine person. I could tell from the moment we met that you’ve got a heart of gold. Which is why I’m here.”

“Same to you.” The thought made Sophie pause. She’d given her uncle the benefit of the doubt. He’d taken care of their needs this past year. She hadn’t required much beyond that. However, Abigail’s comment about a real family made her think. She was grateful to her uncle, but between the strangeness of the situation with Lord Whitehouse, and Abigail growing older and needing more, it was time to be in a place where people loved them again. They needed a place where they would be cared for emotionally.

She sighed out loud, it was a lot to ask.

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