Remember Then

VIII. Spies

She had let other men stare at her before. Why could she not keep her head straight now that she knew Nicholas could see her?

"I do not mind, Sophie," he said, his voice more gentle. "I do not mind. Did you hear? You are bloody beautiful and I want to help you. You do not deserve to be in this place. You ought to be somewhere where you can be free."

"My kind is never free anywhere," she hissed, pulling at her hands but his grip merely tightened.

"Then you shall be the first to be!" he hissed.

Her nose flared. She snapped her head up to look at him but merely saw the shadows of his eyes, his nose and mouth. Her eyes welled with the fury and the desire to see more of him.

When he thought that she was calm enough, he let go of her hands and cupped both sides of her face, running his thumbs gently over he cheeks. "You are beautiful, Sophie. You do not deserve this place. Let me help you."

Sophia veered her eyes to the right, intent and stubborn at the same time.

She knew why he was doing this. She knew why he was here.

And she knew she could not allow him to walk away. Not now.

"This has been a rough visit," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead but she turned away and his lips landed on her temple.

He stepped back while Sophie still had her head turned, her anger reigning over her.

"Now, before you can tell me never to come here again, I shall take my leave."

She heard his footsteps walking away. And then she heard the door open. "Think of my offer, Sophie," he quietly said before he left.

Sophia stayed in her spot for a long time, her thoughts wandering to Nicholas' offer of freedom before flinching back to reality. She reached down to calm Aabha while she looked around her room, taking in the forms and shadows of everything around her.

Nicholas Everard was wrong.

He offered mere fantasy.

This was her reality. And it was the best she had ever had.

*****

Nicholas stormed out of Rock'oles and past the guards. He climbed into his carriage waiting for him outside.

It was hard to realize what he truly felt at that moment as the carriage rolled its way back to Wickhurst.

He had always despised deleterious emotions for he was not one who could handle such stress. He would rather not feel such weight on his shoulder or his conscience for there were far better things to enjoy in life!

Nicholas had always abhorred great responsibilities for such things came with difficult decisions and sleepless nights of fretting over the consequences. One of the reasons why he wished never to marry was the problem it would bring.

Yet now it seemed that problems were the only things that had been coming to him. Not merely was he short of staff in his own household which was already a problem for him, he also had to face grave challenges like Osegod and this bloody slavery case.

And now he had to face yet another challenge: convince a prostitute to trust him.

With frustration, Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands.

He had been a bloody idiot. He ought not to have asked her to come with him this soon for it was apparent she was not like the others who would have fainted at his proposal. And he definitely did not have to flick the blasted ceiling lamp!