Lover Be Mine: A Legendary Lovers Novel (21 page)

Sophie gave a dismissive snort. “That is easy for you to say. You Wildes live on the
edge of scandal and can be as wanton as you please. We commoners cannot afford such
recklessness.”

He didn’t rise to the bait, however, so she tried another tack. “Jack, please … it
will hurt my parents terribly if my marital chances dissolve in scandal.”

Jack wanted keenly to reassure her. “I promise you, there will be no scandal.”

She evidently realized that pleading with him would do no good, for after another
moment, she scowled at him. “I can see how you came by your scoundrel’s fame.”

At her accusation, his mouth curved faintly. His character was not
that
black. “I am not a scoundrel. A rogue perhaps.”

Seeing his hint of a smile, she snapped at him with real anger. “Your levity is
entirely
inappropriate.”

“I beg your pardon, sweetheart,” he said, sobering his expression.

“Pray stop calling me ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love.’ I am neither.”

“Very well.”

Clearly she wasn’t mollified, for her frustration had only increased. “I demand you
turn this vehicle around at once, Jack.”

He shook his head regretfully. “I cannot do that.”

“Well, you cannot force me to accompany you. I won’t submit to your coercion.”

Suiting action to words, Sophie eyed the door handle, then lunged forward to grasp
it. When the door started to swing open, taking her with it, Jack’s heart jumped to
his throat.

Grabbing her arm, he hauled her back inside and held her firmly against him, much
against her will. “Devil take it, Sophie—leaping from a fast-moving vehicle could
get you killed.”

“It would be better than remaining here with
you
,” she muttered.

When she struggled against his grasp, he voiced another low oath. “Be still! I will
tie you up if I must.” His threat was only half empty; the last thing he wanted was
for her to be injured.

Her eyes were bright with fury. “I won’t stand for this, Jack. I will escape from
you the first chance I get.”

He believed her. Sophie was normally sweet and mild-mannered, but he had awakened
the slumbering rebel in her.

They both suddenly became aware that he still had his arms wrapped tightly around
her. For a brief moment, Jack fantasized about claiming a kiss or even more, but given
her present mood, he refrained.

A fortunate choice, for Sophie pushed her hands against his chest. “Let me go, damn
you!”

When he complied, she edged away from him, to the far corner of the carriage seat,
and folded her arms across her chest. “You are utterly outrageous.”

“So you have said.”

The look she cast him was blistering. “How can you
do
this to me? You know better than anyone how it feels to be a helpless captive. You
were kept prisoner for months when you were a child. I should think you would never
act so cruelly to anyone else.”

Jack flinched involuntarily as her accusation struck a hidden nerve. “How do you know
about that?”

“Skye told me about your ordeal.”

“She ought not have.”

“Well, she did. But now you have demolished much of the sympathy I felt for you.”

It was Jack’s turn to scowl. He clamped his jaw shut, while Sophie averted her gaze
to stare out the window.

For more than an hour they traveled in silence, with her simmering, him brooding.
When it began to grow dark, Jack explored the storage compartment under the opposite
seat and retrieved a flask of wine and a knapsack filled with nuts and cheese and
fruit. When he offered her a taste of wine, Sophie refused. So he set the flask aside
and fished in his inner coat pocket. From the custom-made leather sheath he found
there, he withdrew a small but very sharp dagger.

For a moment she looked startled, but he was only cutting a slice of apple for her,
which she also declined.

“You should try to eat something,” Jack urged.

“My appetite is entirely gone.” She sat there another long minute before asking, “Do
you intend for us to travel all through the night?”

“Only through the evening. I have two stops planned to change teams. Then we will
waylay at an inn for supper and sleep.”

Sophie gave a strong shake of her head. “I cannot believe you expect me to travel
for three days across France wearing an evening gown. How obtuse can you be?”

Jack lightly ran his gaze over her. She was not dressed for a journey, although she
wore a velvet cloak over her gown for warmth. But he had brought several lap blankets
for the carriage.

“I had only half a day to prepare,” he explained. “I took the liberty of packing a
valise for you. I’ve provided you with a traveling dress and another day gown that
I thought would fit you, along with undergarments and a nightdress.”

Her cheeks colored. “How could you possibly know what would fit me?”

“I guessed your measurements.”

“Based on the figures of your numerous mistresses, no doubt.”

There was some truth to her accusation, but Jack thought it wiser to avoid confirming
his past affairs. “I have a sister and cousin, remember? Kate and Skye have both contributed
to my knowledge of female attire.”

“They did a poor job of educating you if you think this sort of barbarism would sway
any woman to your opinion.”

Jack kept silent, thinking it best not to rile Sophie
any further than he already had. In truth, he was beginning to feel a measure of remorse
for abducting her. He had expected resistance but not complete defiance. Obviously
he’d put too much stock in his charm and powers of persuasion.

She did not relent at either of the stops to change teams. And when they finally halted
in the yard of a prosperous posting inn, she crossed her arms again and stubbornly
refused to get out of the coach.

“You might attempt to cooperate,” he said dryly.

“Why ever should I?”

“Because I doubt you want to cause a spectacle.”

“I don’t care a whit about causing a spectacle—”

“In that case …” Gathering her in his arms, Jack lifted her out bodily.

Sophie sputtered in indignation while clutching at his neck to avoid being dropped.
“Jack, put me down!”

“Not until I have you safely inside under lock and key.”

While Sophie ground her teeth, he carried her inside and roused the innkeeper from
his bed. The elderly Frenchman raised his eyebrows but chose not to comment on the
odd ways of the British Quality. Jack could tell Sophie was considering pleading for
help, but she must have decided the effort would be futile.

When he requested a room and ordered their bags and supper brought up, they were shown
upstairs by lantern light to a pleasantly appointed bedchamber. The innkeeper lit
a lamp on the mantel and started a fire in the hearth to take the slight chill off
the room, then left with a promise of swift service to follow.

Only when they were alone with the door shut did
Jack finally set Sophie on her feet. Her blue eyes sparked dangerously as she faced
him, but rather than speaking, she spun on her heel and stalked to the window, where
she parted the curtain and stood staring out at the dark night, her back rigid.

Jack propped a shoulder against the door frame and watched her, trying to judge the
extent of her anger. He had wanted Sophie to become more rebellious, but not with
him
.

Their bags were delivered a few moments later. Sophie ignored their presence, although
she did seem grateful for the pitcher of warm water to wash with.

“I should like some privacy,” she told Jack in chill tones.

“Very well. I will step outside until supper arrives.”

“Do you mean to lock me in?”

No, he would not go so far. Sophie was right about that. The searing memories of his
own captivity as a child were still painfully fresh in his mind, even two dozen years
later. He wasn’t about to do the same to her, even if he
had
threatened it.

“Can I trust you not to attempt an escape?” he countered.

“Certainly not.”

“Then I will have to stand guard outside the room.”

Sophie’s lovely mouth tightened. “I wonder if your sister and cousin would be pleased
to learn how low you have sunk, abducting helpless women.”

Jack heaved an exasperated sigh. “You are hardly helpless.”

“No? I am in a strange country, in the middle of nowhere, being held prisoner, completely
defenseless.”

“Here, you may have my dagger.”

Again she looked taken aback when he pulled the knife from his coat and handed it
to her.

“You should be gratified. I rarely let that knife out of my sight.”

She recovered from her momentary speechlessness in short order. “The only thing that
will gratify me is being set free and driven back to Paris. But evidently there is
no point in trying to appeal to your better nature, since you haven’t one.”

Jack ignored her gibe and crossed the bedchamber to the door. “You may lock the door
behind me.”

“Most assuredly I shall.”

She had the last word. And when Jack let himself out, he heard the bolt shoot home
with decided force.

He gave Sophie the privacy she’d asked for and took the opportunity to use the outdoor
privy before returning upstairs to wait in the corridor. Some ten minutes later, the
innkeeper and his wife delivered trays with their supper of hot mutton stew and thick
brown bread.

When Jack knocked on the door, he was rather surprised that Sophie not only opened
it to him but willingly allowed him back inside.

She had removed her cloak, he noted. She also voluntarily sat at the small table across
from him and picked up her fork.

Her ire evidently had calmed a measure, for she attempted a civil conversation. “I
still see no reason for my presence in Navartania, Jack. You could go on your own
just as well.”

“There are very good reasons. The decision to claim
the throne will affect you as much as me. I also require someone to prevent me from
throttling my father.”

She sent him a penetrating glance. “Are you likely to come to blows?”

Jack shrugged. There was sure to be bitterness and antagonism between them, if not
actual violence.

Strangely, Sophie’s expression softened, whether out of curiosity or sympathy, he
wasn’t certain. “Surely you could have asked one of your family to go with you.”

Indeed, he could have, Jack knew, thinking back to the days following the house party,
directly after learning of Sophie’s betrothal. Skye had insisted on calling a family
council in London in hopes of salvaging his legendary lovers romance. She, Quinn,
and Kate had all volunteered to make the visit to Navartania with him, but Jack had
declined their offers of help. He didn’t want his intrusive family tagging along on
so private a mission.

Besides, it was much more important to have Sophie accompany him. Even though he despised
the necessity of facing his father, and every fiber in his being screamed out against
accepting Prince Raoul’s offer of a princedom, he might be willing to endure it as
the price of claiming Sophie for his bride. But she was the most crucial part of the
decision.

“I told you, there is no point in my going without you,” he reminded her. “You are
the sole reason I would even consider becoming his heir.”

Her brow furrowed. “You could still accept the crown without marrying me.”

“Why would I want to?” Jack countered. “I don’t
relish living in Europe, away from all I hold dear. I don’t wish to leave my family
behind. And I most certainly don’t want to be compelled to live with the bloody coward
who sired me.”

Sophie’s frown suggested she was thinking hard about what he’d just admitted, but
she didn’t comment as she picked at her plate of stew.

“So you see,” he repeated, “I have no cause to go unless you are with me.”

At his assertion, her gaze abruptly lifted to his. “What would be the point, Jack?
I will never marry you, especially now. How could I when we have no love or even the
barest measure of trust between us?”

“We have trust.”

“Says the scoundrel who plots against me and kidnaps me and keeps secrets from me.”
Her gaze grew penetrating. “Why would I ever marry you after this? A man I can’t trust?
A man who doesn’t trust me with even the simplest facts? You never thought to mention
your bitter quarrel with your father or even that you stood to inherit a princedom.
You’ve never said a word about your mother either, or your brutal captivity when you
were a child. You’ve kept hidden all the events that shattered your life.”

The shock of pain that speared through Jack at her inventory caught him by surprise,
and he lashed out with unexpected force. “I watched my mother
die
, Sophie. They had to pry her stiff body from my arms. That isn’t something I can
discuss easily.”

She stared at him a long moment before finally shaking her head and lowering her gaze
once more to her plate. But at least the heat had gone out of her demeanor.

After that, supper was a silent affair. Sophie ate sparingly but she did eat, perhaps
because she feared he would decide to hand-feed her if she refused.

When they finished, Jack pushed back his chair. “It is late, and we have a long drive
ahead of us on the morrow. We should get some sleep.”

Her response was not what he expected. For a moment, Sophie closed her eyes and bowed
her head, as if fighting back tears of despair. But then she visibly bucked herself
up and squared her shoulders.

“If you think we are sharing a bed, your wits have gone begging.”

“If you think I mean to ravish you, you are quite mistaken.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“If I try, I give you leave to slice me up with my dagger.”

“If I wanted to slice you up, I would not require your permission,” she retorted.
“And either way, you will sleep on the floor.”

Sophie tossed a quilt and a pillow at him and waited as he made a bed for himself
near the door. Resigned to enduring an uncomfortable night, Jack stirred the hearth
fire and put out the lamp, then removed his coat and cravat and boots before stretching
out on the hard floor.