Read My Seductive Innocent Online
Authors: Julie Johnstone
Tags: #regency romance, #Regency Historical Romance, #Historical Romance, #Julie Johnstone, #alpha male, #Nobility, #Artistocratic, #Suspenseful Romance
He stole a sideways glance at her. She was clutching at her tattered skirts with chapped hands. Either her parents were too poor to buy her proper clothing or they were neglectful. And what the devil had she done to her hair? It looked as if she’d carelessly lopped it off with a dull knife. Good God, could she have had fleas? His skin immediately started to itch.
As the chattering of her teeth began to speed up, he could feel his resolve to keep his distance unraveling like a knot being worked at by a knife. Damnation. He eyed her petite, unmemorable form and worked his jaw back and forth. He couldn’t very well let her freeze. “If you scoot close to me, we can keep each other warm.” He winced at how uncharitable his voice sounded.
She turned her head toward him, and he could see nothing but her pert nose and large, exquisite blue eyes peeking out from under his topcoat. Those cobalt eyes shone bright in the burgeoning moonlight.
A man could forget his worries when looking into those beguiling eyes. They twinkled with wariness at times and laughter at others.
He nearly gasped at the peculiar thought. This wasn’t him.
She clutched his coat tighter around her and said, “I’m all right where I am, thank you very much.”
He chuckled at the wariness that punctuated every word she spoke. She sounded just as guarded as he felt. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But I’m a very hot-blooded man and I guarantee I could warm you up in seconds.”
Her brows drew together. “How many women have you said that to?”
“You’re the first, I assure you.” He’d never wanted, nor needed, to offer anything to a woman he was interested in, except his current mistress. However, he’d only offered her an allowance and home while they were exclusive to ensure she understood the rules of their relationship―no love. He forced his thoughts back to where they needed to be: on the road.
“How much farther?” he asked.
Sophia extracted her arm from his coat and pointed ahead. “See the trees up there? When you get to the third one, take a right and then the house is only about five minutes from that point.”
He peered ahead to a long row of towering trees that lined the road on either side, and his suspicions spiked. “If I could have counted to the third tree and turned, you should have just told me that and saved yourself the trouble of coming out in the cold.”
She jerked his topcoat away from her face and scowled. “If I had a pound for every person I’ve given directions to that took the wrong road, I would be rich—perhaps even as rich as you. Why, just two days ago, I instructed a gentleman how to get to Mr. Bantry’s, and he hobbled away all high and mighty with his nose in the air without so much as a thank-you. Came back an hour later begging me to show him the way.”
Nathan laughed, surprised at the sound. He could not remember the last time he’d let his guard down far enough around a woman to genuinely laugh. Except... He stilled. He’d either been laughing or wanting to since he’d met Sophia. She was not like the typical women with whom he kept company, which must explain why he didn’t feel the need to guard himself as much. She was also quite young from the looks of her.
And from what she’d demonstrated so far, she was bold as brass. She didn’t try to hide her feelings behind masks. In fact, her eyes were so expressive he wanted to tease her simply to see what her eyes would do. “Did you consider that your directions might be lacking?” he prodded.
Her eyes did not disappoint him. They flared like two burning torches. “They were not!” She leaned forward and jerked her arms out of his coat. “I give perfect directions, you beetle-headed man! You can have your coat. I’d rather freeze!” With that pronouncement, she threw his topcoat at him, just as he had started to make the turn onto the road.
Temporarily blinded but chuckling, he tugged the reins back to bring the horses to a stop. As he did, Sophia gasped beside him. He shoved the garment off his face and turned toward her, expecting to find her glaring at him, but she was staring straight ahead with her lips parted and her mouth in a perfect
O
. He followed her gaze and froze. Two men stood in the road with hoods over their faces and pistols pointed in his direction. Fury obliterated the chill from the air. He’d been duped, after all, had been bamboozled by a slip of a woman with a shorn hair, tattered clothing, and a forgettable figure. She’d played the innocent and he’d stared into those fathomless blue eyes and believed her.
“How stupid of me, my dear,” he mocked, without taking his eyes off the men. “I pride myself in considering all possibilities, but I foolishly never once considered that you would rob me. How very sly of you.”
Sophia’s small cold hand clutched his thigh and squeezed very hard. “I am not trying to rob you.” Her frightened voice sent alarm bells off in his head. She wasn’t lying.
He eyed the box on the floorboard that contained his pistol. He was a damn fool not to have been prepared for something like this. Traveling alone was dangerous, and traveling at night even more so. He eased back into his seat and regarded the cloaked figures, one tall and one short but both obviously men based on their stocky builds.
“Gentlemen,” he said, instilling a note of nonchalance into his tone, “how can we help you?”
“Ye cannot,” the short man said. He had an accent that sounded almost Irish. “We’re here ta kill ye, and I’m doubtin’ ye want ta help us do that.”
“Kill me?” Nathan replied, slapping ruthless control over his body so as not to show the slightest concern. He leaned his elbows on his knees to get closer to the pistol box, but really, he didn’t see how he could get it open before they shot him or Sophia.
“Aye. We would’ve already shot ye, but we were expecting ye ta be alone. We didn’t get no instructions ta kill no girl.”
“Jest gonna have ta kill her, too,” the taller man said. “She’s a witness now.”
Sophia’s nails dug into Nathan’s thigh. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and draw her in to the protection of his body, but to move might mean her death. As he searched his mind for a plan, she squeezed his thigh again and then said in husky voice, “I’m no lady, gentlemen.”
Nathan turned and gaped at her. What the hell was she doing?
“Lord La-tee-da has paid me for my services, but if you promise to let me go, I’ll service both of you for free.”
Sophia was mad. And it just might save them both! Nathan clamped his mouth shut.
“Come on down here, and I’ll take a sample,” the shorter man said with a chuckle.
Nathan clutched Sophia’s leg as she started to rise and held her in place. He couldn’t just let her go without trying something else. “There’s no need to kill me, gentlemen. Whomever I’ve angered, I’m sure if you’ll simply give me his name, we can work it out. And I’ll pay you handsomely for doing so.”
Nathan never slept with married women or virginal ladies, but still he had managed to anger some gentlemen over the years who’d thought they held some claim to a certain widow or even a demirep. He could think of one particular widow who had tried to make her old lover jealous recently by flaunting her relations with Nathan in front of the man’s face. Perhaps it had worked too well.
“The only thing getting worked out here is lust,” the tall man crowed. “If ye want the wench ta live send her down.”
Nathan hesitated to let Sophia anywhere near those men, but if he didn’t do it, they’d likely both die on this road. He turned his head to her and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’ll die before letting them harm you.”
“There’ll be no need for any more of your heroics,” she muttered. “I’ve a dagger.”
“Sophia, don’t―”
The towering man snatched her out of the seat before Nathan could finish his sentence. With a yelp, she went tumbling down the steps and slammed into the taller man. Nathan’s blood boiled as the man’s hands slid indecently over Sophia’s thin body and to her face. He was going to pummel that man first, and with extra glee.
“Yer not much ta look at,” the man slurred at her.
“The prettiest part of me is under this dress. Want to see?” Sophia cooed in the sweetest voice. Nathan’s blood froze in his veins. Was her dagger strapped to her thigh? Did she mean to try to reach it first or just distract the men so Nathan could do something?
Sophia bent over in one fluid motion and never came up. A howl, the likes of which Nathan had never heard, filled the night. “My foot!’ the tall man yelled. “Bitch stabbed me in my foot.”
In the confusion, Nathan reached down and swept his pistol box up, but before he could open it, a shot rang out. The bullet slammed into his left shoulder and sent him staggering backward onto the seat. The sting of the metal piercing his skin was nothing compared to the sharp, fiery pain that instantly radiated from the site of the wound to his fingers. His left arm went numb, and dark spots danced before his eyes. He blinked, tensed his body, and threw the heavy, wooden pistol case directly at the man who’d shot him.
The wood box thumped the man on the head and he went down in a heap, howling and holding his skull. Nathan scanned the area in front of him. In a sliver of moonlight, Sophia’s petite form was illuminated as she struggled with the taller man. Nathan’s blood rushed through his veins as he scrambled to make his way down the stairs to help her, but he was losing blood fast and his feet were unsteady. His head became light and the ground beneath him tilted right, then left. Searing heat enveloped him as the nausea rose in his throat.
He missed the first step of the ladder and tumbled to the ground. He landed face-first in the dirt. Beside him, a second shot rang out, and it took all the strength he could muster to turn his head to see who’d been hit. As he did, a body thudded to the ground very near him, and relief snagged in his chest as he stared at the wide, unblinking eyes of the man Sophia had stabbed in the foot. His mouth was parted in the last breath he’d ever taken.
As Nathan struggled to push himself over, pain hit him in wave after burning wave, from his shoulder out to the rest of his body. Footsteps pounded across the dirt, and he managed to flip over with a guttural cry, in time to see Sophia’s concerned faced looming over him.
Her gaze skimmed his body, then she looked over her shoulder. “The other devil ran off,” she said, facing him once more. “Coward! I’d chase after him―” she smiled grimly as she raised her dagger in one hand and the pistol that had to belong to the dead man in the other “―but you don’t appear...” Her words trailed off as her gaze locked on his shoulder.
“You’re afraid I might die,” he managed to joke, though his vision was becoming increasingly darker.
She bit her lip, and that was answer enough. “We better get you to the physician’s house. Can you stand?”
Hell, he didn’t think he could breathe much longer but he managed to nod. Somehow, he’d find the strength to get up.
For a petite lady, Sophia surprised him. With minimal staggering, she helped him rise and climb back into the curricle. By the time he fell onto the seat, he was sweating profusely. She grabbed his pistol box, and then she plunked down beside him and took up the reins. He rolled his head toward her, resting against the cushion, and looked at her with the one eye he still had the strength to open. “Have you ever driven a carriage?”
She shook her head. “But don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. There is no way I’m letting you die on me.”
“Of course not,” he mumbled. His mouth felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton. And his head, too, come to think of it. He stared up at the black night, wondering foggily if the stars had disappeared or if he had gone blind. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a ragged breath. “If I die, you cannot trap me into marriage,” he teased.
“Oh, go on and pass out already, you conceited man,” she snapped.
The carriage seemed suddenly to be swaying wildly. “Slow down,” he hissed, grabbing at the seat.
“I’ve not even started yet,” she retorted and clucked her tongue.
The curricle jolted forward and seemed to tilt downward, and then Sophia’s yelp joined the buzzing in Nathan’s ears as he blacked out.
S
ophia expected all hell to break loose when she returned to the Breeding Tavern with a bleeding, possibly dying duke in tow. After going to the physician’s and finding him gone, she’d had no other choice but to come back here. When she did arrive, Frank immediately started yelling at her and demanding to know where she’d been, just as she’d predicted. But she tugged him outside to get his help bringing Nathan into the tavern, anyway, and was shocked speechless when he stopped shouting as she explained who Nathan was. Frank rushed back into the Breeding Tavern and returned within seconds, barking orders at Moses to find the physician. Sophia’s heart swelled with the strangest sensation of hope. Maybe Frank was not rotten to the core, after all.
“Frank―” He gave her a sharp look. “Father,” she corrected, clearing the lump out of her throat. “You won’t regret this.”
“Oh, I know I won’t,
my dear
.”
My dear?
Frank had never used a term of endearment to refer to her in all the days of her life. He was certainly up to something, but she didn’t have time to figure out what right now. She clambered into the carriage and slipped her arms under Nathan’s legs. As Frank hauled himself into the curricle, as well, and grasped Nathan under the arms, Nathan’s eyes fluttered open and locked on her.