Page 137 of A Duchess for his Family

He looked at her. Something passed silently between them. He sighed.

“I want two footmen with you.”

“Of course.”

“And the driver is to take the main road.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And if there is fog⁠—”

“There is no fog.”

“If there is fog, you return.”

Sophia kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

“That is not agreement.”

“It is very close.”

Her father looked profoundly dissatisfied. Her mother kissed Sophia’s forehead. “Go.”

Sophia smiled, then she did. Several minutes later, the carriage lamps were throwing trembling pools of gold over the road. Sophia was sitting alone inside, wrapped tightly in her cloak while Keswick disappeared behind them.

The countryside lay dark and silver beneath a thin moon. Hedgerows moved past in shadow. Bare branches reached over stretches of road where the trees grew close, and now and then the carriage wheels struck a rut hard enough to shake the glass. Sophia scarcely noticed as Rivermere grew nearer. So did Benedict. Her courage rose and fell accordingly.

What would she say?

I was wrong.

No, that was too simple.

I love you.

That was too terrifying. Perhaps both.

Sophia pressed one hand against her stomach. She suddenly felt slightly ill. The carriage rounded a bend. In the distance, beyond a stretch of trees, she could see the dark outline of Rivermere’s western boundary.

Home.

Her heart tightened. A few more minutes. Then the horses startled and the carriage jerked violently. Sophia caught the window frame.

“Whoa!” The driver’s shout came from above.

The horses slowed, harness jingling sharply in the darkness.

Sophia leaned forward. “What happened?”

No answer came immediately. Then she heard a cry. It was high and frightened. Sophia froze. Another cry tore through the darkness. This time she heard the words.

“Help!”

Sophia’s blood went cold. The voice came from somewhere among the trees.

And it sounded like a child.

Chapter Thirty-Three