Read Lady Sophia's Rescue (Traditional Regency Romance) for Free Online

Birmingham.”
    “If it’s the money, I’m a very wealthy man . . .”
    She stiffened. “I won’t accept your money.”
    She was entirely too proud. Rather than accept a gift from him, she would risk her life. His hands fisted. “Then I’m not letting you out of my sight until the ‘transaction’ is completed. You’re in grave danger.”
    “Just what are you suggesting, sir?”
    “You -- and your sister -- will stay at my home until I’m assured that you’re out of danger.”
    She shook her head. “I’m . . . an unmarried woman.”
    The very suggestion of impropriety stirred his lust for her. She was an unmarried woman, a very beautiful unmarried woman, and he was an unmarried man. He had never been more aware of a woman. A sizzling heat flared between them as he drank in her sensuous loveliness, as his heated gaze poured over her exquisite face, down the creamy flesh of her neck and the tops of her breasts swelling against the blue gown.
    Bringing a well borne lady to his house was not a good idea. How would he be able to stay away from her bed?
    He drew a deep breath. “I give you my word to behave as a gentleman. And my servants are very discreet. Your reputation will not suffer.”
    Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “How can I know you’re a gentleman? I know of no gentlemen whose valets are skilled swordsmen.” Her gaze darted to Thompson, whose face was inscrutable.
    William shrugged. “The manner in which I conduct my business and the manner in which I live in polite society are two completely different things.”
    “I may regret it, Mr. Birmingham,” she said, “but I’m willing to put myself in your hands. Until this business is completed.”
    * * *
    “Four of you couldn’t overtake two men?” Lord Finkel thundered.
    “Three, counting the coachman,” the blond footman said.
    “’Twernt just any two men, either,” his companion said. “These men was exceedingly well armed.”
    “And skilled pugilists,” a third servant added.
    “And mighty handy with a sword, too,” a fourth servant said.
    Lord Finkel’s glare scorched. His bloody wife had gone traipsing off with another man. On his wedding night! How could that be? He had learned that she had met the wealthy bloke at the posting inn at Shelton. Were she running off with another man, would he not have picked her up outside the gates of Upton Manor? “What was the man’s name?”
    The three men shrugged. “We don’t know, my lord,” the blonde said.
    “But he was very rich,” the other said.
    “His carriage was even finer than yer lordship’s.”
    Lord Finkel’s bushy brows lowered. “There was a crest?”
    His servants shook their heads.
    “What did the man look like?” Lord Finkel asked.
    “He was a very large man,” the blond said. “I fought ’im with all me strength, but I was no match for ’im. A giant he was.”
    The smaller servant nodded. “And his clothes were of very fine quality. Every bit as expensive as yer lordship’s.”
    Lord Finkel pounded upon his desk. “You’re to return to Shelton and make inquiries. I need the man’s name. Don’t come back without it.”
    “Yes, your lordship.”
    * * *
    Sophia had thought physical discomfort could get no worse than it had been the night before when she and Dottie had stumbled through a violent rainstorm for six long miles.
    She had been wrong.
    The seven-hour journey to London in Mr. Birmingham’s now-topless coach was worse — chiefly because the skies had once again erupted, rendering the interior of his carriage as wet as a pond, a freezing pond that no amount of togetherness made tolerable. She longed to wash the mud from her body. She longed for dry clothing and the warmth of a fire. But most of all, she longed to be on solid ground and rid of the horrid motion sickness that threatened with every turn of the wheels to dislodge the churning contents of her stomach.
    When she began to recognize familiar streets in London’s West End, an odd sense