Please, Zach, find me. Find me before he does.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When the director told Zach that Sophie would not be at rehearsal, he made his apologies to the cast and rushed out of the theatre. A bad feeling niggled at him. He should have pushed his way into the manor yesterday and demanded to see Sophie.
He arrived and rapped loudly at the door. Where in the hell was that damned butler? He always came to the door right away.
Finally, the door opened. A young maid he didn’t recognize stood there. “Yes, sir, may I help you?”
“I need to see Lady Sophie. Right away.”
“Why, Lady Sophie is still abed.”
“Wake her, then. I came to see her last night and was told she was not available to see me. I will see her now, God damn it.”
“Goodness, sir, no need to use such language. Let me find Mr. Graves.”
“I’m not interested in seeing Mr. Graves. I want to see Lady Sophie right now.”
The maid curtsied and scurried away, looking petrified.
* * *
The sun had risen, and Sophie still lay on the bed. She still didn’t know where she was—only in a shack that apparently had at least one other room.
In a few moments, Jake, still masked, came in, carrying a tray containing some bread, porridge, and a glass of water. He unbound Sophie and urged her to eat.
She sucked down the water quickly but couldn’t force down the bread and porridge. She just wasn’t hungry. The meal reminded her of some of the sparse meals she had been forced to eat when she, Ally, and their mother lived in poverty when their father was still alive. He would be gone for weeks on end, leaving them with no money and no food. They had made do the best they could. Sophie was used to going to bed hungry. After a while, hunger didn’t really exist.
Still, no one would realize she was gone yet.
If she were Ally, she would be looking for ways to escape. The window? It was high and narrow. Perhaps if she scooted the bed over to the wall, she could stand upon it and reach the window. However, it was made of glass and appeared to have no way to open.
That probably wouldn’t stop Ally, but although Sophie had come a long way, she still wasn’t Ally—despite her newfound sexual awakening.
Jake barged back through the door. “Not hungry, my lady?”
Sophie shook her head. “Thank you, no. But if I could have a little more water please.”
Jake brought her some water, which she drank greedily.
“Time to use the chamber pot again, my lady, or I can take you out to the privy.”
“The chamber pot is fine.”
“And no tricks like the last time.”
“No tricks. I promise.”
Sophie took care of necessities, and Jake returned in a few moments, Harry in tow. A knot gleamed on his forehead above his black mask.
“Go on and take out the chamber pot,” Jake said to Harry. “I’ll prepare her for the boss.”
Prepare her? What did that mean? Sophie shuddered. She didn’t want to find out.
Jake walked toward her. “You gave Harry a right good lump on his dome, missy. He’s not feeling well or thinking straight.”
Was she supposed to care? She wished he were still out cold.