Page 85 of His Enemy Duchess

“Yes, I’m positive.”

“If it wouldn’t trouble you, I’d like to ask for your help in searching for Sophia.”

“Absolutely. Anything for her.” Charles turned towards his son. “James?”

“It goes without saying,” James replied. “Samuel, you will check the residences of our friends. I will ride to this grandmother of yours, Your Grace. Father, you and the Duke can check the road between here and Heathcote Manor, searching any crossroads where she might have veered off course.”

Thomas caught a dark look from Samuel, but the young man remained silent, so he ignored it. “Agreed.”

“I am coming, too.” Lydia stood up.

Charles tried to push her back down into the chair. “My dear, are you certain you?—”

“I can’t stay still when my daughter could be out there all on her own,” Lydia insisted.

They all turned and looked at Thomas expectantly.

“We shall reconvene at Heathcote Manor before sunset. Hopefully, this is all for naught and she simply returns home.”

But he saw his own fears reflected on the faces of his wife’s family. Not one of them believed this was a misunderstanding, and all of them were as desperate as the others to see her safely home, whichever home that might be.

Sophia had brought them together, and for as long as she was missing, the feud and the history between them didn’t matter a jot.

Sophia felt something small and wet hit the back of her neck and shivered.

It’s… raining…

Over her head, she could barely pick up the sounds of water drops hitting a roof made of wood, confirming her assumption. That was, so far, the only clue she had about her location.

She still had no clue, however, about why her uncle had acted in such a manner. She knew he would have trouble accepting peace at last, but to stoop to a threat of violence? Never. Not even in his strictest and most violent outbursts did she take him for a man capable of abducting a person—and his niece, no less.

And yet, there was a disturbing amount of familiarity and practice in his actions.

What have you been hiding, Uncle?

Gauging the passage of time with her head covered in a coarse sack was nigh-on impossible. It must have been a few hours already, considering she couldn’t hear birds singing anymore. Her shoulders and wrists were starting to hurt from having them bound behind her back for hours, and her feet felt uncomfortable from being tied and in riding boots all day. And now, she also felt cold.

But most importantly, she felt alone.

Her thoughts went back to that first night at Heathcote Manor, where the unfamiliarity of the house felt like it was going to swallow her up. But there was no escape this time. No scuttling away into the library like a rat to snatch a book and pass the time.

And no Thomas…

She remembered being held in his arms in the warmth of glowing firelight, feeling safer in his embrace than she had ever felt before. She thought of his partial confession in the empty dining room and wished she had just stayed there instead of hurrying off with her book of revelations. If she had taken her time, enjoyed him, and confessed in return, maybe she wouldn’t be there now. If she had Thomas with her, he might have prevented this one way or another.

For a second, she could feel his presence around her, and she felt like he would burst through the door any second now and rescue her.

A doordidshriek open, and she flinched at the sound.

Her heart climbed up her throat, her legs instinctively pulling themselves up to her chest. She tried to complain but remembered her mouth was still gagged, so only muffled groans came out. Through the fabric covering her face, she could see a faint light approaching her.

A hand pulled the sack off her head. Her uncle was standing there, half crouched, a lantern in his hand. She grumbled and protested as much as her bonds allowed her to, but he raised a hand that made her flinch and stop.

“Good girl,” he said and held out a glass of water. “Now, I’d wager that being gagged for a long time probably made you thirsty, correct?”

Sophia looked at the glass of water. Having a piece of dry fabric stuck in her mouth did indeed make her incredibly thirsty. She felt a bead of sweat slide down her forehead as she nodded.

“Now, be an obedient little girl and don’t scream when I take off the gag. If you don’t, I’ll give you this glass of water. Agreed?”

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