Gathering her skirts, Sophia slunk out the back door and headed towards the gardens which had a large maze off to the side. The walls were green hedges about seven feet tall, full of vines and leaves and the stray flower. A soft breeze filtered through the air, causing the leaves to rustle. It also brought the smell of the fresh earth to Sophia as she made her way across the trimmed grass, making sure her cream skirts did not get dirty.

It was a miracle she made it out here without being caught by her Aunt, despite Alessandra distracting her on Sophia's behalf.

The Duchess had a gaze like a hawk and escaping from her was nearly impossible at any instance, especially after the vanishing act Sophia had pulled at her debutante ball. The Duchess had been suspicious of her from the start, her hate for niece preventing anything but that. It was clear she hadn't bought Sophia's excuse of using the powder room, but she couldn't prove otherwise. However, after that little escapade, it had put her on maximum alert.

Lost in her thoughts, Sophia's heart jumped to her throat when the leaves at the opening of the maze where she stood, rustled. But it was only the Viscount, dressed in a deep blue which went with his twinkling eyes.

"Musing about me, my lady?" Twin dimples appeared on his cheek.

"No." Something about him made blood surge to her cheeks every time, including now.

Raised eyebrows were his only response. He tried to lean against the shrubbery, but when his elbow poked through the slight opening between the leaves, he stumbled. His lips slightly parted in surprise.

Sophia couldn't help but snicker at that. "That's a wall of leaves, my lord. Not a wall of wood to lean against."

"I know. I suppose it is a habit of mine to lean. One, admittedly, my mother scolds me for, as future Marquesses aren't supposed to do so."

"She's quite right, my lord." Her twinkly eyes made her amusement all the more apparent.

What was it about him that made her tongue become much too loose for a woman of her standing?

"Yes, she is. But habits are hard to break. But do you always say what is on your mind, my lady?" His lips were pressed, as if he were stifling a laugh.

"Yes. It is also something my mother used to scold me for in my younger days."

"Did you call me here to tease me? I am not objecting, my lady, as it is quite fascinating to meet someone as... refreshing as you. Even more so for being... near strangers. I don't meet many women who are outspoken in the first instance."

Sophia swallowed the full-fledged smile that threatened to break out over her face. No. She would not smile that this man's compliments, however nice they were. She would not take the Viscount's appreciation of what was usually considered a fault in a high-born woman to heart.

"No, I called you to ask why you are here. I told you to stay away from me," she murmured.

Blake couldn't help but poke a little bit of fun at her. "You're the one who called me here, my lady. Alone, might I add."

She huffed at him, clearly not appreciating his sarcasm and unsolicited humor. " Not here here, as in the sense of the gardens. Here in the sense of the Duchess' home. My presence. I told you to stay away from me, yet I see you here at my party. Why?"

He chortled, but before he could answer, a couple of voices drifted over to them. The words weren't clear, indicating they were some distance away, yet it did warrant for caution. Sophia looked at Blake in surprise and panic. If they were found out...

Thinking on his feet, his fingers circled faintly around her wrist, causing fire to immediately dance there. Dragging her, he pulled them both away from the entrance of the maze and turned a corner and then another and another until they were hidden out of immediate sight.

It seemed the Viscount had done so just in time. The pair could hear the women more clearly now, indicating they were near the entrance of the maze. Sophia and Blake stiffened, thinking the women would enter the maze. But thankfully they drifted on, as they walked to another part of the garden. Sophia's heart frantically beat against her chest--whether in fear or excitement, she did not know.

It was only then Sophia realized he was cradling her against his chest. His hands that had circled her hips caused tendrils of fire to rip through her. He had pressed her against him to shelter her from the women's view in case they stepped into the maze—but he had inadvertently put them in a compromising position. If anyone caught them now, they could not claim innocence.

When he tilted his head down, he seemingly realized the same thing; their lips were barely an inch apart- a result of her being on her toes. Both knew they should move away from one another, but neither did.

"To....to...answer your question, my lady, I came to say goodbye as I know I should let you go. We can't have whatever.... this is," he whispered, as he wet his lips.

"Yes, you should let me go." Sophia tried to remove her hands that were pressed against his chest, yet her fingers only curled further into the cloth, pulling him to her.

The birds that trilled in the background dimmed and the world slowed down, encapsulating them in that moment. Sophia could see his throat bobbing up and down as he gulped, his breath hot against her cheek.

She didn't know whether if she was the one who moved first or him when their lips finally crashed together. But when fireworks exploded behind her eyes, she could not care less.

Sophia knew she should tell him to stop as it was wrong, tell him to leave. Yet, her mouth couldn't form the words and her body couldn't draw herself away from him. Her arms looped around his neck as she pulled him further into her embrace. Her fingers grazed the tips of his locks and they felt like satin.

"Don't stop," she moaned. She wanted all of him at that very moment and damn the consequences.

What was she doing? She should not give herself over to these emotions.

Kick him, a very faint voice in her mind whispered, but when he bruised her lips with his kisses and did enticing things with his tongue in her mouth, all sense, all reason vanished. Only a hot desire remained.

With their lips still in hot combat, he began to trace her waist and her hips with his fingers and even through the layers of clothing, his touch made her shiver. She gasped, her entire body trembling.

He moved over her until the length of his body matched hers and slowly started to hike her skirts above with his deft and skilled fingers. He kissed her neck and she moaned as she fisted her fingers into his locks. As he pushed her skirts up, his fingers slowly sidled up her thighs, drawing lazy patterns on her skin.

"What on earth is going on here? Lord Herrick, I am ashamed by your behavior! I thought you were interested in my niece for marriage, but apparently not!" the Duchess of Carlton cried. "And you, Sophia, little girl, little stupid girl, what have you done? You went missing from your own party and I come searching for you and I find you... in the passionate clutches of this man! Dear child, you are ruined!"

As soon as the Duchess of Carlton's voice had screeched through the air, Sophia and Blake had broken apart, scandalized and ashamed at being found. They were both rustled and trussed up from their embrace, Sophia more than him. Red flooded both their cheeks, stray mussed hair cupping both of their faces. She knew how it looked from aunt's eyes, though nothing had really happened.

It was her aunt's voice she had heard earlier. Holy hell. How had she not realized?

"No, no, your grace. I...I nothing happened. I promise. I just called him here to talk and he kissed me!"

Realization ever so slowly dawned on Sophia—she was ruined in the eyes of society. Just to feel whatever it was she had felt with Viscount Herrick for a few seconds, she had taken a dangerous risk and she had been caught. From the corner of her eyes, she could spy the Viscount's jaw tick as she blamed their mutual 'embrace' on him, but he kept quiet. Her heart slightly contracted in gratitude.

It was better he was blamed then she was—given his reputation. Perhaps her own could be salvaged, if he took the blame for seducing her.

"Kissed you?" the duchess scoffed. "You were doing much more than that. I could see from here that you were joined at the hips! Your virtue is destroyed. You've been ruined, my child! I cannot sponsor you any longer with this kind of behavior under my own roof. All of London will hear of your shame!"

Sophia clenched her jaw and then continued, "But I promise, we just kissed and we got carried away. He seduced me and I fell for his sweet words like a stupid girl. I got carried away. It was stupid and reckless of me to meet a man of his reputation alone. I let my childish impulses and desires take control as I feel trap into his seducing charm. I realize that and I apologize. It won't ever happen again. But I promise you, Aunt Dahlia, that nothing happened here today. Please. You'll see when my belly doesn't swell with a child!"

The saltiness of her hot tears spilled into her mouth and Sophia snarled at herself. She bid herself not to cry—she had withstood worse situations than this. Yet, for the oddest reason, she could not.

Viscount Herrick was handling this better than her. Although his features were schooled to remain neutral, his other hand was clenched into a fist, betraying his anger at her.

The Duchess gave Sophia a long look that clearly indicated that she didn't believe a word Sophia said. "Even if that may or may not be true, you have disgraced yourself under my roof, embarrassed me. I have no choice but to tell your betrothed of your indiscretions. What he decided to do with you, is his choice alone. When they informed me of your marriage, I was overjoyed my work of finding you a husband was done. All I had to do was keep you scandal free until the marriage—an easy enough task, considering you knew your place and future. I expected better of you...yet you do this," she harrumphed.

Sophia knew her aunt didn't need to spread the word of this around, especially to Darius but that she wanted to. It would mean that Aunt Dahlia didn't have to go through the trouble of organizing the wedding and spending even another ounce of money on her niece—who she had taken under wing only in memory of Lillian, her sister. It gave the Duchess of Carlton to remove the burden in the name of Sophia Brighton.

Sophia could not give up that easily. Too much rested on her shoulders—she could not let her siblings pay the price for her own indiscretions. She had to salvage this somehow. Wiping away her tears and clearing her throat, she pleaded to her witch-like aunt, "Please don't do this, Aunt Dahlia. Please. You don't have to do this. If you tell Darius, he will shun me and all of society will follow him. I will never get married."

"It was what you deserve. Propriety decrees that I ship you to the countryside as a punishment for your indiscretion once word of this gets out, which it will. Lord Darius made it very clear he intended to have a pure, virginal scandal-free wife and you are now anything but those. However, knowing you are the sole carer for your family," Dahlia paused as Sophia's lip curled at her. "I will allow you to remain in your manor. But it will be an official social shunning. You may never re-enter society again."

Dahlia er nostrils flaring in disgust as she continued, "To think of all I've done for you. And this is how you repay me? This is what you deserve as retribution." Her voice dripped with malice and contempt, unlike anything Sophia had ever seen or heard before.

"Please, Aunt Dahlia. Don't," Sophia cried, clutching her skirts in desperation.

Finally, Blake spoke up and Sophia's heart let out a large gasp of relief. "Your grace, if anyone was to be punished for this, it is me. Don't hurt the girl. I made inappropriate advances. She fell for it. I seduced her."

The Duchess raised her eyebrows at his courage for speaking up and his words. "Your father will hear about this, no doubt, Viscount. But I cannot punish those who are not my kin. To me, Sophia allowed herself to be seduced by you. Your words. Your looks. She is at fault here."

"No, I am solely-" Blake bit back before her aunt hushed him with a sweep of her hand.

"Please don't make a mockery of yourself, my lord. Begging should be left to the beggars, not nobles. Keep your pride."

To Sophia, she said, "Come, now."

Before Sophia or Blake could say another word, she whipped around on the balls of her feet and promptly left the scene to spread the news to Sophia's future husband. From there, the news would only fester.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Sophia turned on Blake. "Thank you for supporting me, my lord. But the only thing that can save me now is if you ask for my hand."

Blake just blinked at her, as if he was drugged.

She whispered again, "You... you have to marry me or... or I'll be ruined. Please. You have to marry me. You have to make this right, for both of us."

"How can I possibly marry you if you are promised to another?"

"I only knew a few days ago, my lord. It hasn't been made public yet. But now Lord Shaw would have to make it so—before he discards me, for he will do that. Only you can save me now. Marry me."

Blake knew should have behaved himself and that he shouldn't have kissed her. He should have left when he had the chance. It was on his honor to make this right, yet all that came out his lips were, "I cannot marry you."

"Cannot marry me? Though I may not be ruined completely, no man wants to marry me now! The gossip would never allow another man near me! Your honor as a gentleman compels you to marry me!" Sophia cried, her voice spiking up in anger.

"I am the future Marquess of Alton and my wealth-hungry father had decreed I am only allowed to marry into my station or one above my own. I'm sorry, my lady. I cannot marry you." His heart broke to see her like this even though he barely knew her, save for a few jests and exchanged kisses.

"Please."

Blake let out a trembling breath. "If I marry you, my father will disown me. Do you understand? I won't have a title. I won't have money. We will be penniless. You will be worse off than before."

"We can convince him not to."

"We can't. My father has a very obsolete mind, Sophia." He turned his face away from hers as if every word was causing him pain. Sophia could see his jaw clutched tightly and the nerve on his forehead throbbing ever so slightly.

"But I'll be ruined, don't you see? Darius would never want my hand now and no other man would either. I can't ask them to marry a fallen woman—felled by you."

"I know. I am sorry. I should have never met you, never come here." Blake backed away from her, his jaw clenched as if he was trying to hold back his tears. "I am doing this to shield you from a fate that is even worse. I am protecting you. This is for your good. You can survive this. You are the strongest woman I know."

"Not strong enough for this."

"You are." His eyes were wide and open.

"Marry me, my lord. We will figure this out. Your honor commands you to do so." Sophia spat the words out, losing the pathetic wail and inserting her usual steel, commanding tone. If Viscount Herrick would not listen to her whimpering and pleas, at least he would listen to her ice.

Blake knew the only way to deter her was to hurt her and his words were like a slap on the face when he said, "No. It's partly because I can't but mostly because I don't want to marry you. You might be beautiful and smart but you are poor. You can't do anything for my family. It would be useless for me to marry you."

It worked, as sheer pain clouded her eyes. But behind that, her ever resilient fire burned. "You don't mean that."

He truly didn't and he wanted to say so. All he wanted to do was caress her cheek and apologize but what came out was, "I do. That is why the only relation I proposed to you was carnal in nature. And you fell for it." It was difficult for him to do so, but he gave her a smirk that he reserved for times he was truly cruel—the one that spoke of superiority and self-satisfaction.

Sophia just glared at him, flashing her teeth like a wolf.

But before she could respond, he walked solemnly out of the maze, his back heavy with the weight of her sorrowful glare and his heart even heavier. He knew he would regret this for the rest of his life.

He wanted to marry her. She seemed like a person that he could imagine spending a lifetime with. He should marry her, on his honor, although he could argue that it was on that 'honor' he was sheltering her from what would happen if they were joined in holy matrimony. His father would never accept them.

Yet, how he wished it could happen. If only his father hadn't been in the way.

If only.

Oh Blake, oh Blake, what have you done? Do you think his reason for not marrying her is valid?

Readers! Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter! Be sure to vote, comment and share it with others! Every single thing means the world to me! I love you all!

Header credits: fine art america