Sophia could feel her rage surging inside her, rising to her head. Her ears began to ring as she watched Nicholas' dark form move forward.

"Stop!" Her voice shook with intense fury yet she could not find herself to move and thrash at him as what she wanted to. She wanted to shout, to grab something and throw it at him.

He had broken her first rule.

"Soph—"

She did not let him finish. She stood up and walked to her bedside table to reach for the lamp. It was hot.

The ringing in her ears worsened that she nearly closed her eyes. Aabha had walked to stand between her and Nicholas. Brigid was standing beside her, hissing.

"How long have you known?" she demanded, her voice almost a whisper. She was afraid that if she were to speak louder, it would merely cause the guards to come to her chamber.

"For quite some time," Nicholas replied. She saw his form move to face her. "I was not aware that you can see. I thought—"

"I can see well enough to know that you have neglected my rule!"

At that moment she hated the fact that she could merely see shadows on his face. She wanted to see how he looked. Was he wearing a look of pity? Of contempt? Had he a mocking look on his face?

"Sophie—"

"My number one rule is that you cannot see me!" she hissed.

"Why?" he asked, his voice almost angry. "Because you are a woman of color?"

Sophia's breathing became heavier as she struggled for control. She rarely felt anger. She knew fear, she knew anxiety. But anger was something she was not used to for she had long learned that it took her nowhere.

"You fear to be seen and scorned? Is that what your rule is all about?" Nicholas continued, taking one step toward her. She stepped back until she was pressed against the table. "Let me tell you one thing, Sophia," he said, voice careful yet stern, "I am Nicholas Everard. I am not like most of them."

"You merely think that to be true," she snapped. "The fact that you ignored my rule merely proves that you are just like everyone else."

"I know you are of color and that you are bloody blind! Almost blind, that is. Did that stop me from coming back?" he asked, ignoring her words.

"You keep coming for the very same reason why you wooed your way into my chamber!" she gritted through her teeth.

"That is partly true, but you must realize, woman, that I find you too bloody attractive to—"

Sophia did not realize that she had grabbed the empty drinking glass beside the lamp and flung it across the room. It crashed against the wall, barely missing Nicholas.

"Bloody hell, woman!" he cried out.

"Dare not mock me again, my lord," she warned.

He stepped closer and said, "Please, not the bloody lamp!" when she started to reach for it. Within a second he was able to reach her, grabbing her hands in his.

Aabha started to growl but he did not seem to mind. Brigid had jumped to the side, still hissing.

"Let me go or I shall have my pets make a meal out of you!"

"No, not until you listen to me," he insisted sternly, his breathing brushing against her face. "Listen to me," he repeated over the sounds of her distressed pets when she struggled to be free, turning her face away from his.

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!

But who would have thought that a woman who could not see with a small bloody lamp could actually do with a bigger one? A doctor could have guessed her condition, but Nicholas was not a doctor for many reasons! He was not a bloody Town Guard as well. And he most definitely was not a Leaguer! So why in tarnation was he in this mess?

Ah, yes, of course—family.

If not for the threat the Everards were facing, Nicholas could be back on traveling around the Town, hunting with his friends and brothers.

Ah, how he missed those times.

But things had changed quite so fast in the recent years.

Levi married. Ralph became a Town Guard. Benedict was still Benedict but his brother would be of much use if he was still unmarried and still resided in Wickhurst.

His sisters could have stayed unmarried as well.

Why did no one stay the same as they were? Why did everything have to change?

But they did, he thought, gazing out the window at the dire scenery outside.

Osegod could be on to them still. The bastard was not the head of the Leaders for nothing. He came to where he was with determination and connection. And now he had the power and he wanted more of it.

And they, the Everards, had done things Osegod did not appreciate.

It would not be long before the man might make his move again.

Whatever he had to do, however he had to do it, Nicholas must gain Sophia's trust.

If Margaret had managed to make one big sacrifice before for family, he could very well do so as well.

But Nicholas doubted if he could play this game too long. Seducing a woman to bed was one thing, misleading and using her for survival was a far more dangerous and complicated story.

*****

Sophia slipped through the secret door and felt her way down the corridor that led to Marcus' private study. Turning the door handle, she opened the door.

Marcus had naught but one rule for her: Enter if the door is unlocked, go back to your chamber if it is.

His study was with enough light for her to see the shapes of the furniture, but not Marcus's face. She settled in the winged chair situated across his desk and folded her hands on her lap.

"Glad that you fancied to step out of your chamber today," he greeted with an amused tone. "But I must ask you a question. Why in the bloody hell are you keeping Whiston out of your chamber? Mast reports that you have not sent for him for nearly a week now. And he has been outside your door every day since his last visit. Yesterday he was forcefully taken from the corridor." When Sophia remained silent, Marcus impatiently asked, "What happened, Sophia? What is this game you are playing?"

Sophia let out a breath. "I simply needed time to calm myself."

"Why so?"

Her jaw tightened as she said, "The Lord of Whiston broke my first rule."

She heard Marcus curse under his breath. "I do not care about your rules. Take him back into your chamber and charm your way into his brother's secrets. We do not have forever."

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I shall take him back when I deem myself ready to face him."

"You do not have to like the man, Sophia. You can always pretend. Men are venal creatures, my dear. Use that to your advantage." She watched as Marcus shifted in his seat. "Now, quit the games and let the man into your chamber. Make him trust you and we get what we want. The sooner you do, the sooner he shall disappear."

With a sigh, Sophia nodded.

"Good." Marcus sighed. "I cannot fulfill my plans without your cooperation."

The silence reigned between them for a time.

"What if they do not truly know anything?" she asked. "What if they get more from us instead?"

Marcus chuckled. "They will not be able to take anything of value, my dear. Everything Whiston might pick up from his visits is from me."

Sophia's lips quirked. "And you are not a foolish man."

"No, my dear, I am not."

*****

Nicholas did not bother to go outside Sophia's chamber after the guards dragged him down the corridor. He still had his pride to soothe after such embarrassing incident.

"No trip to the mysterious chamber tonight, eh, Whiston?" one lord asked with a laugh. Some others joined and Nicholas merely rolled his eyes.

Ralph shook his head in disappointment. "Three days ago you said she was merely having a tantrum."

Nicholas cleared his throat and murmured under his breath, "She is merely thinking over my proposal."

Ralph scoffed. "Whatever made you think she will accept? And whatever will do with her if she agrees?"

Nicholas raised his brows and leaned closer to whisper, "Whatever made you think I was true to my proposal, you idiot?"

Ralph appeared stunned for a moment. And then he chuckled. "You bloody bastard."

Nicholas leaned back against his chair with a sneer. He suddenly felt reluctant but then he knew that whatever he wanted to say would merely urge Ralph to prove how foolish he was in as many ways he could. With arrogance, Nicholas said, "I am a rakehell for a reason, brother. I can make women believe in fantasies."

"Simply do be sure that you don't fall victim to this fantasy, Nick," Ralph warned. "She is a woman you would not wish to complicate your perfect life."

Nicholas hid the clenching of his jaw by drowning his brandy. "Fret not, little brother. I am an expert on weaving fantasies while adeptly living in naught but reality."

While Ralph shook his head, the door to the gaming room opened and Mast walked in. The manager went straight to Nicholas and he slowly stood with a big grin on his face, sending the envious men gaping at him a mocking smile. "Have a good night, gentlemen," he said as Mast led him to the door that led to the corridors.

"You took your precious time, Mast," he uttered to the man who remained silent.

They walked down the corridor toward Sophia's chamber.

Nicholas felt his heart hammering against his chest once more.

Bloody tarnation!

When Mast pushed the door open, the light from inside the chamber surprised him. He did expect her to return to her darkness, but he was wrong. This merely proved that Sophia was not as predictable as he thought.

As he stepped inside, he realized he would have to be more careful now.

"I am willing to accept your help," her calm, soft voice said from the same corner.

Nicholas turned to see her sitting there with the black cat on her lap. He frowned at the feline for a moment before he traveled his eyes over Sophia.

She looked exquisite in that thin layer of white fabric. For a brief moment the thought of other men seeing her in naught but that article of clothing caused a rancorous taste to rise up his throat, but he mentally shook his head.

At the very least he must be grateful that she did not cover herself from neck to foot. It meant she was willing to provide him with the same services she offered the others in bed. He was no fool not to enjoy that while doing his brother's work for him.

But that would have to wait for the tension between him and Sophia was as strong as it was when he visited her last.

She was refusing to look at him. Nicholas fought the urge to ask how much she could truly see, to interrogate her of how she fell into such condition. That, of course, would have to wait for later.

At the moment, all he could muster was a serious tone. "First, we need to know your enemies."

"I do not have any, my lord."

"But you do, Sophie," he said with a smile. "The men you are working for are the enemies of the Town itself. I assume you do not know them by name?"

Her eyes wavered. "No."

"Then we must learn who they are. My brother can help us. At the moment, I only know of Baldwin. There are others who claim to have visited you, but I cannot be certain if they are telling the truth."

"I do not know who Baldwin is and—"

"The one who reeks of cigar smoke."

Her brows rose in recognition. "Of course." He watched her swallow, shifting her position in the chaise. The cat snuggled closer in her hands. "Will you truly help me escape from here?"

Nicholas forced a smile on his face. "I deliver my promises, Sophie."

She nodded and squared her shoulders. "Then what do you wish me to do?"

"Spy on Durley. If we can catch everyone involved in the slave trade, you will be free amongst many others."

He saw the hesitation in her face and for that moment he was almost certain she would take a step back and ring for the guards. Durley, after all, was the man she considered her savior.

"Very well," was her curt reply. "If you promise me a few things."

"Pray tell."

"Promise me that you shall spare Lord Durley. Promise me that you will take me away from here after it is all done and that you shall provide me with protection. If you say yes to all of this, my lord, I shall do what you ask."

Nicholas swallowed the bitter taste of guilt in his throat and forced a smile. "You have my word, Sophie."