“Can you describe him?”
“Of course. He might be about your age, perhaps a bit older. Tall, thin, exceedingly pale, both his complexion and his hair.”
Hell and damnation, the man Henry had encountered had likely been the very same bastard who’d attempted to force Sophie into the carriage.
Gavin dragged in a slow breath. “Did he give any indication of a motive?”
“He was paid to do her in. The cur didn’t name the bastard who hired him, but he implied the employer has no shortage of blunt. He’s well connected, has his own hide to protect.”
“So Valentina was killed by a man who could not risk damage to his position?”
“So it would appear.” Henry’s mouth was drawn with tension. “The blighter reeked of alcohol, but his recall of the events was vivid. Listening to the bastard…to his despicable boasts… God above, it sickened me. The fiend takes pride in what he called hiswork.”
Bugger it, this was a complication he’d never thought to anticipate. He’d known Sophie was playing a dangerous game dealing with men like Trask and Adam McNaughton. But this exceeded the direst of his concerns.
He could not abandon Sophie to the heartless curs who’d come after her. Protecting her would likely destroy his investigation, but that was of little consequence now. Ruthless men had her in their sights. The bastards had already shown what they were capable of. He could not leave her in the path of a killer.
“See what intelligence you can dig up on Valentina’s past, and find out as much as you can about Jack. The killing was a hired job, not a crime of passion—there must be a trail that leads to the son of a bitch who paid him.”
“And Sophie—we must defend her.” Henry’s tone left no room for discussion. Still a gallant young buck, he wore his chivalrous streak on his sleeve.
“With any luck, she’ll book passage to the Continent and put herself out of the blighters’ reach.” Gavin downed what remained of his drink. “I’ve already arranged a meeting with her tomorrow. After what happened tonight, I’d expect she’ll be amenable to leaving London for a time.”
“And if not?”
Gavin mulled the question. Convincing Sophie to accept his protection would be a tall order. But the alternative was untenable.
“I will not leave her to those jackals.”
Chapter Fifteen
Morning’s first light streamed through the gauze-thin curtain, rousing Sophie from what had been a perfectly delectable dream. With a little groan, she snatched the covers to her chin and rolled onto her side, away from the offensive brightness. A comfortable haze fell over her, that delicious sense of being perched between the conscious world and the realm of slumber. Perhaps, if she relaxed just enough, she’d be able to pick up the intriguing fantasy right where she’d left it.
Ah, yes, that was it. She drifted away, back into the light-dappled corridors of her dreamscape.Excitement surged through her, a thrill unlike any she’d ever known. The adventure was so new, and yet, it seemed she’d been waiting for this moment all of her life. The man at her side moved closer, his touch upon her forearm gentle, yet searing her with awareness. Could he also sense the electricity that bound them together in this brief expanse of time?
They breached the threshold of the antechamber, moving through the mazelike spaces with a sure, steady confidence. Finding the final chamber, she entered it without a moment’s hesitation. Emboldened, she lifted her lantern, searching…searching…
She spotted the scarab-adorned box. Reached for the artifact. They’d found it. The treasure she’d sought for so long. Turning to look at the man who’d led her to this place, she stared into his indigo eyes.
With a start, Sophie tossed aside the covers. Her lids opened, taking in the dawn, as if that would calm her. Oh, good heavens! Why did it have to behimin her dream? She might’ve enjoyed a bracing expedition with a deliciously handsome thespian or a dashing duke.
But she hadn’t dreamed of some noble gent. Or of her favorite actor, Maurice Blythe, even though she’d clung to his every perfectly enunciated word during his performance ofHenry V. No, she would have welcomed those men into her dreams. But the man who’d accompanied her into the pyramid was certainly not a gentleman she’d invite into her life. Not even into the world of her dreams.
Dash it, of all people, she’d dreamed of Stanwyck.
Even in her slumber, he’d been arrogant, the glint in his eyes as enticing as it was infuriating.
If only he were not so very tempting. An utter rogue.
But my, his kiss had been delicious. Pity he appealed to her so.
Not that it mattered. Even if he fancied her at the moment, there could be nothing enduring between them. Despite his scandalous ways, a man like Stanwyck would someday settle into a comfortable life, with a bride and an heir to carry on his name. He’d require a woman who would play the hostess and raise his children, an upstanding paragon of virtue—her character beyond reproach, if only to counter his own tarnished respectability.
Sophie certainly didn’t fit that bill. Domestic bliss and a spotless reputation held little appeal. She’d no desire to be tied down by tedious responsibilities. Heaven only knew she’d had enough of those while a governess. No, she craved experiences beyond the four walls of a residence, no matter how stately that home might be. Life offered far too many adventures to be rooted in one place, committed to one man—no matter how tempting that man might be.
Drat, drat, drat.She snapped herself back to reality. The very notion of a relationship with the professor was preposterous. She’d no time for such foolishness. She would not squander even a few more precious moments of her morning thinking about the likes of Gavin Stanwyck.
A glance at the clock on her bedside table confirmed her suspicion that she’d slept longer than she’d initially believed. She’d slumbered away her morning. Perhaps her encounter with the ruffians had left her more shaken than she wanted to admit. What else could explain the arrogant boor’s appearance in her dreams?
