Mr. Gruff was named for the obvious reason that he spoke gruffly most of the time. His statements were most often crustily delivered and he was Sophia's least favorite.

He paced around Sophia's dimly lit room and cursed when he stumbled over Aabha who was peacefully sleeping at the foot of the bed.

Sophia did not flinch at his expletives for she had heard far worse in her many years in the brothel. Her uncle was amongst the many men who introduced the language to her from the moment she woke up that fateful night twenty years past.

Marcus left a note for Mr. Gruff that morning and it was apparent that he did not like what was written there.

"Three women? How am I expected to supply three! Women are getting scarce!"

Sophia sighed. She wished she had turned on the ceiling lamp so she could see the damage Mr. Gruff was doing to her furniture. She did not like stumbling over misplaced things.

"Sir," she said, breaking her silence, "I would appreciate if you cease talking about the contents of the letter. I have no wish to hear every detail of your transactions. Lord Durley would also appreciate if you avoid slips."

"And who would you repeat my words to?" he snapped at her. "Your lovers? You do not have one." The contempt in his voice was outward but Sophia let it pass. It was tedious to defend herself to the likes of Mr. Gruff.

Like Lord Cigar, he was here for the money. But unlike the former, Mr. Gruff had no other reason.

"Ah, but you are amongst those who brag of your visits in my chamber, are you not?" she taunted. "Whatever reason you may have for coming here, you still go around Town, enjoying the envy of those who are spared of my presence."

"You speak to me as though we are equals, Sophia, dear. You very know you are far beneath my race."

"Yet you speak of me to the men outside as though I am a goddess who acclaims your virile." Her lips curved at his lack for words. "You take advantage of my mysterious nature, neglecting of my true one in presence of your equals, letting slide the important details about me that would have made them judge not just me, but you as well."

He grumbled under his breath. Sophia heard him crumple the letter in his hand. "I do sure hope you can clearly see, dear Sophia. Because once you stare at yourself in a viewing glass and see more than mere shadows, you shall kneel at my feet in gratitude for giving you a false image amongst my colleagues."

Sophia remained calm. She had heard him say the same words before, most often in times when he could not form a better statement.

"Tell Durley his request shall be done in a fortnight, no less." Her jaw tightened when his weight made her bed screech. She hated that he'd spoil her most favorite part in the chamber. "And wake me up when it is time to leave."

She forced herself a smile although she doubted he saw it. "Of course."

*****

She opened her eyes and saw nothing. And the pain attacked. She moaned beneath her panting breath, desperate for relief.

The panic was winning, numbing the pain.

Why couldn't she see? What was happening to her? Was she dying? Why couldn't she remember?

"I see yer awake."

Sophia opened her eyes wide and groaned in frustration when she felt for her damp forehead. Why could she not simply dream of that night without physically suffering?

When would the time come that she would not have to cower at the sound of his voice?

With a groan, she pushed away from the mattress. Aabha moved beside her and she hushed him back to sleep. Brigid purred lazily from a corner.

Sophia reached for the glass of water and drank.

It shall take a few more minutes to calm her pouncing heart.

As she waited for sleep to return, she wondered if her uncle would ever cease to live in her sleep.

*****

Nicholas was in his apartment in Wickhurst, tying his cravat with great concentration when his sister, Emma, burst into his chamber.

He was about to scowl for the intrusion when he realized his sister was with Fiona and Faye, the two girls their sister Margaret and her husband adopted as their own four years ago. Suddenly his face came alight with a smile. "To whom do I owe the honor of having such fine ladies grace my chamber?"

The two girls giggled. Fiona, ten, curtsied. Faye, now at what they assumed to be around twelve years of age, did the same. Both their shoulders shook with mirth. "We were asked by Emma to accompany her," said Faye.

Without closer inspection, both girls looked like true sisters. Both had dark hair and blue eyes. But that was the extent of it.

Fiona was looking more like a Carrington in each passing day. Her black hair which she inherited from her father, a Trilby, was the only dissimilarity. Although the Trilbys were not chummy with the Everards due to their role in rescuing Fiona from her father, they dared not further demand for her return for Fiona was a disgrace to them as much as her mother was.

As to Faye, her origin was unknown. She stumbled into the Everard estate and met Margaret. But she was one of the keys to helping Margaret and her husband Cole in putting to prison the men responsible for the illegal slave trade around the Town. She escaped slavery at such a young age. Margaret did not wish to put the child through the entire investigation, but they all knew that when the moment came that the men were caught including the Head of the Town Leaders, Osegod, Faye would have to be asked to participate. She was their only living witness who could point at the men who took her from her village.

Nicholas gave up on his cravat and threw it to the side with a frustrated curse under his breath.

"You have not yet found a valet?" Emma asked, walking over to the cravat to pick it up and attempted to tie it around his neck.

"No. And I believe it shall be a long time before I can trust myself with one," he murmured, looking down at his sister. He scowled. "Where the bloody hell did you learn to tie a cravat?"

Emma spared him a look with her emerald green eyes. "Books, brother. I have a ton of time to learn many things."

He sneered. "Preparing for marital duties?"

His sister scoffed and pulled the cravat tightly to choke him. He jumped away and loosened the knot. "I learn things not for others but for myself, you oaf." She turned to Faye and Fiona and said, "Girls, would you be so kind to ask Fanny to bring biscuits and sweet tea to the parlor?"

Nicholas groaned. "I assumed you are not staying," he said when the two girls disappeared.

Emma arched a brow. "You have somewhere of import to go, Nick? A lover?"

"Mayhap, yes," he said. There were only two people amongst his siblings he could not lie to: Maxwell and Emma.

"Is this the same woman in Rock'oles?"

His eyes widened. "And where did you learn of Rock'oles?"

Emma chuckled. "Don't think your sister is a fool, Nick. Of course, I learned from Ysa who learned it from Maxine."

"I ought to have word with that former valet of mine," he grumbled.

Emma laughed in mirth. "Oh, I still find it famous! Maxine fooling you for months by pretending to be a man!"

His eyes flickered with annoyance. He rather missed the days when his younger sisters were causing ruckus, busy with their matchmaking. The older they got, the more they knew of things Nicholas would rather they be ignorant of. "What urged you to come here? You never leave the Everard estate if you can help it."

Stepping back to admire her work around his throat, Emma shrugged. "I wanted to take the girls shopping while Margaret and Cole are with the doctor."

He frowned. "Doctor? Why? What is the matter?"

"Oh, I suspect it is another babe," she said with a shrug. "And mother is almost certain of it, which is why I am here."

"Straight to the point, Emma."

"You are expected to be at the family dinner this evening."

"And you could not have simply just sent a note?"

Emma chuckled. "I live to cause small havocs in the daily lives of my dear brothers, Nick," she said with a wink as she turned to leave the chamber. "And I am rather fond of Fanny's biscuits!"

"She is the worst cook!" he uttered as he turned to face the viewing glass to admire his features. He grinned at himself.

Tonight shall be the night for Sophia to see him in all his splendor. With one last wink at his reflection, he turned to join his sister and nieces at the parlor.

*****

Nicholas looked away when Tania and Veronica, the two women who had once worshiped him in Rock'oles, threw him a murderous look simply by being in the same room as them.

For a very short moment he blamed Maxine for causing such a scene the last she was here. But was it not his fault that his sister-in-law barged in here wearing breeches and shirt to fetch her husband? Or should he blame his sister, Ysabella, for helping Maxine?

Ah, he missed Tania. She was truly a price.

But his short frustration was short-lived as Stanley Mast, the lanky and tall manager of Rock'oles, came to him and said, "If you would come with me, my lord?"

All men in the gaming room snapped their heads to gawk at him in disbelief. He swerved his mocking face at them all.

Mast would not usually show himself in the gaming room unless he was escorting a lord to the mysterious chamber.

He heard Veronica and Tania scoff in disbelief and briefly heard a gentleman say, "Bloody lucky bastard."

"Jolly walking with you, Mast," he said to the manager who merely gave him a curt nod. The man briskly led the way toward Sophia's chamber. With a key, he opened the door and the light from the corridor burst into the room.

Nicholas was disappointed to see that the only thing he saw was the giant bed in the center. Well, at the very least he saw the bed. And it was like every other bloody bed.

"Good day, my lord," Mast said as Nicholas walked past him. Without another word, the manager reached for the door and pulled it close, leaving Nicholas in darkness again.

His mind raced to how he could cause a deliberate accident, one that would help him get a glimpse of the woman residing in such a dark room. He wanted to see what she was hiding.

"Are you hungry, my lord?" Sophia's voice asked from his left.

He turned. "For something else, yes," he said in a teasing tone.

She chuckled and he heard the rustle of her dress as she walked toward him. Had she been living in this darkness for so long that she could easily navigate around it?

He felt a hand clasp his. Soft, dainty hands pulled him forward.

For some odd reason he started to get nervous. Why? Why the bloody hell did he feel anxious? Surely it was not because of this woman!

"I had the cook prepare a sumptuous meal for you," she softly said, guiding him into a chair. He felt something move against his right leg and he lifted it high in alarm. Sophia chuckled. "That is Aabha, my lord. Need not be afraid."

"I am not," he snapped. "Bloody hell, woman, you keep animals in this room!"

"They keep me company when I am alone."

He heard a clutter before him.

"You expect me to eat in darkness?"

"Believe me when I say that it does stimulate your sense of taste," she promised, placing a fork in his hand.

Slowly, Nicholas blindly reached for the plate. With his other hand, he felt for its contents.

"You simply have to use the fork to—"

"I know," he snapped again, losing patience. He did not like this game she was playing. But ate he did and she was proven to be correct for the meal was indeed delicious and when he got acquainted with the darkness, it did help him to focus on the taste and its smell.

"Is there any particular reason why you do not wish for me to see you? Try to be honest with me, Sophie, for I do appreciate honesty," he said a moment later as he sipped his wine.

Her hand went to his holding his drink. She took it from his hand and set it aside on the table before she settled herself on his lap.

His body responded instantly, his breath snatched out of his lungs. She was not heavy yet she was not light as well. She was perfect in his mind.

Her smell overwhelmed his senses again and he did not realize his hands moved on their own volition to caress her upper arms, her shoulders and her long, curly hair.

"Yes, of course, I do have reasons," she whispered, her breath brushing his lips.

Nicholas swallowed.

He did promise himself that he would seduce her today. Yet he found himself being seduced in every possible way he had never thought.

A woman's beauty had always been enough to empower his lust, but this woman was using his other senses to do it. She did not need the light to make Nicholas scramble for control for the very smell, feel and sound of her was enough to make him burn.

Just as when he thought she would plant her lips against his, she deliberately let it lightly trace the side of his lips, along his jaw and up over the slight curve of his cheekbone. He closed his eyes, asking himself if he ought to give in now. Because there was no way he would be doing the seduction at this time.

In response, his body jerked forward and his arms wound around her. He felt her stiffen before she softened against him. Although he wondered about her reaction, his body could no longer wait. He needed to be inside her. He needed to taste every inch of her. Now. Not later.

Now.

With ease, Nicholas lifted her with him from the chair, sucking on her throat, wishing he was delving his tongue inside her mouth instead. But she did not wish to be kissed. And he respected that.

Perhaps he would work on that in the days to come. But not now. Now he simply had to reach the bed.

Carrying her through the darkness of the room, Nicholas clasped his hands under her thigh. Her breathing was raspy as he trailed wet kissed down her throat and over her gown to tease her breast.

"Bloody hell!" he cried out when he bumped against a table.

"Right," she huskily instructed in his ear. Nicholas turned to the right and walked on, hoping the bed would soon make an appearance.

But in the depths of his lust-filled energy, a sane thought was trying to tell him something. And he listened to it.

Yes, of course. He ought not to forget about his plan.

He forced himself to slow down and let Sophia slip down his length until her feet touched the floor.

"My lord," she whispered, her breathing heavy, "I do honestly think that we must continue."

Nicholas grinned against his temple. God, he wanted to kiss her mouth. "Slow, darling," he whispered. "I want to go slow."

He heard the dog whimper beside them, as though trying to warn Sophia that the man holding her was planning to cause an accident, but Sophia nudged it aside with her leg, saying, "Shush, Aabha."

Nicholas realized that his leg was touching the side of the bed mattress. He turned to the side and found the bedside table. He whirled Sophia around with him until his hips hitched on the edge of the wooden furniture while his hands pulled at the light skirt of her dress.

He heard her surprise gasp when he whirled them both around again until she was leaning against the table, his hands now underneath her dress, his mouth searching for the peak of her breast through the fabric.

She let out a shaky breath as Nicholas continued his slow teasing. Her legs opened to give him room and he willing stepped between them and groaned.

He felt her hands reach down to unfasten his breeches but he stopped her. "Shh, darling, not yet," he whispered against her throat, lightly biting her skin. His hands found the back of her dress and he started to work on the buttons.

He felt her stiffen once again but she quickly recovered.

What the bloody hell was wrong with this woman?

What was she hiding? Why was she forcing herself to do this?

His lips wandered back on her jaw, nipping and kissing as it journeyed higher up to her cheeks. He managed to unbutton halfway through her dress now. He leaned his forehead against hers, nuzzling his nose against hers.

"Let me kiss you," he almost begged.

She did not reply. She simply held still.

He knew she would let him kiss her if he truly wanted to. But he would not wish to taste unwilling lips.

Then slowly, Nicholas let his right hand wander away from her dress and into air, searching for something that ought to be there on the table.

Pressing his hips closer against her as distraction, Nicholas groaned as she clamped her legs tightly at both sides of his hips.

Bloody hell, he was forgetting what he was supposed to do.

And before he did, his right hand found what it was looking for. Nicholas swallowed and closed his eyes as he ground his hips against hers and his right hand found the switch and flicked the small lamp open.

His heavy groan covered the sound, but he knew it would not be long before she discovered what he did. With his eyes closed, he waited for her angry outburst but it did not come.

Slowly, Nicholas opened his eyes, fearing that the bloody lamp was broken and that he would find he was in darkness still.

But he was not.

There was faint light behind the woman pressed against him.

His eyes widened when his green emerald eyes finally saw her.

Her eyes were half-closed, her curly, dark hair a tangle around her head. Her hands were clasping his shoulders as she tried to move against him again, but Nicholas couldn't make himself answer her movement despite his straining erection.

Because he was in utter shock at what he was seeing.

His heart started to hammer harder against his chest as his left hand rose, shaking as he cupped her face, lightly as if in fear that she would break. He let out a breath in wonder.

She was a woman of color.

And she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

His breath shook as he caressed her face, her eyes still closed. He did not know how many seconds passed since he turned on the lamp, but he could say that he had been staring at her face for hours because that was how it felt like at that moment—everything was moving slow, giving him the chance to see her.

His suddenly inactivity must have confused her because her brows furrowed and her long, heavy lashes slowly opened.

Nicholas knew it was too late to turn off the lamp because surely she would have now realized that he did because light was visible through closed lids.

But her reaction was nowhere near surprise or fury. She simply stared ahead with a frown and Nicholas craned his head to the right to meet her gaze. But he could not because she could not.

Her pale olive eyes were nothing close to what he had ever seen before and he would love to simply look at them forever, but what he saw beneath them made him stop cold.

He could not find anything there but utter blankness.

His heart became more erratic.

"My lord?" she whispered, blinking as she did so. Her hand played with the hair on his nape.

Nicholas let out a breath of wonder. To hear her voice and see her face at the same time was incomparable to anything he had seen all over the Town, even those that had left him in utter wonder.

"My lord?" his Sophia repeated, blinking once again.

Nicholas could not answer. His right hand rose and he waved it in front of her eyes.

When she simply blinked, her beautiful face now in complete confusion and loss, Nicholas cursed under his breath. "Bloody tarnation."