“Yes, that’s true. Well, it could have been worse. You didn’t actually retch.” She glanced down at her dress. “Did you? I’m not certain I’d be able to tell….”
“No,” he stated emphatically. “I managed to spare us both the indignity of becoming sick on your dress.” He dragged a hand over his face and let out a frustrated groan.
Sophie wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she just gave him an encouraging little half smile. The effort started some sort of bizarre chain reaction. The corners of her mouth began to twitch uncomfortably, her chest tightened, her shoulders shook, and her breath kept escaping in erratic gasps. She kept her lips pressed firmly shut and tried breathing through her nose, but it didn’t help.
“Go ahead and laugh, Sophie,” Alex groused. “You’re likely to injure yourself otherwise.”
She took him at his word and laughed. Hard.
“I’m sorry. Really. It’s just…all so absurd…and unbelievably embarrassing…It was either laugh or cry and…And I….”
“You don’t need to make excuses. God knows I’d rather see you laughing, and if any situation warranted it….”
She heard him break into an easy laughter himself. When she finally managed to regain some control, she realized she felt much as if she had been crying. Her sides hurt, her eyes and nose felt puffy, and she was tired. But she was smiling, and thankfully, so was he.
“That felt good,” she murmured, suddenly feeling awkward.
“So it did.”
The carriage rolled to a halt. Sophie reached for the door, but was stopped by Alex’s grip on her wrist. She turned back to find him suddenly very serious. His other hand reached up to gently caress the side of her face.
“Someday, Sophie,” he said quietly, “I’m going to do this right with you.”
He let his hand fall from her face, but his other moved from her wrist to her hand. He brought it to his lips and pressed a tender kiss on her palm.
“Soon,” he whispered.
She wasn’t sure if he meant it as a promise or a threat. She wasn’t sure which one she wanted it to be. Checking first to make certain no one was about to see her exiting the Duke of Rockeforte’s carriage, she all but bolted the short distance to the house. She had one foot inside the door when she heard Alex call out behind her.
“Sophie, about that other person who kissed you…” “Mrs. Summers,” she explained with a wide grin. “Just a peck on the cheek for luck.”
“She’s innocent.”
William Fletcher looked up from his work to scowl at Alex, who had just burst into his office unannounced. A moment later a rather harassed-looking young man stumbled through the door, breathing hard and flushing to the roots of his pale blond hair. “I’m sorry, sir, I tried to—”
“It’s all right, Sallings, no harm done.” William dismissed the boy with a wave of his hand.
Alex watched him go. “New secretary?”
“Yes. Don’t you knock these days?”
“Mostly. What happened to Kipp?”
“He was reassigned.”
Alex took a seat in front of the desk and stretched out his legs in complete ease, looking for all the world as if he hadn’t just bullied his way into the office without so much as a “good morning.” “Where to?” he inquired offhandedly.
William stuck his quill in the inkstand. This was going to take a while. “To the continent. Why?”
“He owes Whit money. An extended reassignment, I hope?”
William fought the urge to reach for his brandy. It wasn’t even noon yet. “Is there a particular reason you came barging in here, Rockeforte?”
Alex’s grin faded, and for the first time William noticed that the man’s right hand was closing and unclosing on the chair’s arm. He was agitated, and trying not to show it.
“I apologize for the rude entry, but I sent a note. You didn’t answer.”
“Perhaps I was busy.”
“This is important.”
William stifled a sigh. “Very well, you’re here now. I believe your greeting this morning was ‘she’s innocent’? I assume you were referring to Miss Everton.”
“Yes.” Alex punctuated the statement with a sharp nod. “If Loudor is up to something, she doesn’t know anything about it. She isn’t involved.”
“You’re sure of this?”
“I’ve been chasing her around for the last ten days. I’ve attended two balls, a dinner party, and escorted her to the opera. I’ve gotten drunk with Loudor twice, and you’ve had men trailing both of them, without, I understand from Whit, any success. Loudor might have something to hide, but Miss Everton does not.”
“Ten days is hardly—”
“We’ve assigned or cleared individuals of guilt in fewer than ten days before. I’ve spent a good deal of time with her, William, gotten to know her as you asked. Now I’m telling you, she’s innocent.”
William leveled a hard stare across his desk. “Your assignment was to use Miss Everton’s connection with Loudor regardless of her own role—”
“I’ve already worked my way on to Loudor’s guest list. We don’t need her.”
“Either you keep an eye on her or—”