As Luck Would Have It (Providence #1)

“And you?”


“I shall wait an appropriate amount of time before returning in case someone noticed our absence.”

“And then?” Sophie rather hoped he would ask her to dance.

“And then I shall take my leave. A duke is never first to arrive nor last to leave,” he explained with a touch of self-mockery. He also needed to put some distance between them before he did something they would both regret. Like tossing her over his shoulder in front of two hundred guests and hauling her into the nearest room with a door.

“I see,” she laughed. “Well then. Good-bye.”

And with that she leaned up on her tiptoes, gave him a parting peck, and took off for the house at a dead run.

Alex almost called out for her, but swallowed the shout lest they be discovered. He hadn’t expected to end things quite like that. He thought a few whispered compliments, maybe an endearment or two were in order. Apparently, Sophie was not the sort of woman who put much stock in sweet words. That was a good thing to know.

He hoped she was a fairly decent liar as well. She hadn’t given him time to recommend she straighten her appearance a bit.

She had run off looking thoroughly, adorably rumpled.

Sophie used the terrace doors leading into a small parlor rather than the ones leading to the ballroom, and made her way quickly to the ladies’ retiring room. Breathing a sigh of relief at finding the room empty, she sat down heavily on a cushioned stool facing a small mirror.

“Good Lord.” She was a mess. She’d avoided the crush in the ballroom because she felt disoriented, flushed, giddy. She thought she’d need only a moment or two to straighten out her thoughts. By the looks of her, she’d need a quarter hour to straighten out everything else.

A blush rose up her neck and spread out to her cheeks as she tidied her hair and thought, in detail, of how it had gotten so out of place.

Alex’s hands.

Everywhere. And still somehow not exactly where she needed them.

Alex’s strong arms around her, his broad chest against hers, his soft lips moving over her own, his tongue…

“No.” She glared at image in the mirror. Later. Later she could, and would, revisit that memory. But now she needed to concentrate on finding proof of treason and returning to her chaperon before someone sent out a search party.

She took a fortifying breath and slipped out of the room.

Earlier that night, she’d discovered the study unlocked and slightly ajar, and she’d been sorely tempted to slip inside and be finished with that particular business for the night. But it hadn’t taken her long to change her mind. She had no desire to spend the whole of the evening hiding incriminating evidence on her person.

That she would find something incriminating, she was certain. Her last two endeavors had been alternately questionably successful and completely useless. She was due for a change of luck.

She was halfway to the door before realizing the study was occupied. Masculine laughter and the smell of cigars drifted down the hall.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

She’d missed her chance. Scowling, she continued on to the ladies’ retiring room for the sake of appearances. She’d just have to wait for another opportunity. And if that didn’t happen fast enough, she’d make her own.





Fourteen

The next morning, the front hall of Sophie’s house was filled with flowers from her admirers.

None of them came from Alex. Sophie told herself it was for the best and settled down to the task of writing thank-you notes, which seemed a pointless endeavor as most of them would be by in person in the next day or two. Even Sir Frederick had sent along a delightful mixture of tulips and roses.

Sophie laughed softly to herself at the memory of the pained expression on Sir Frederick’s face when he’d been forced to play the ardent admirer to keep up appearances. Of all the men on the list, Sir Frederick was her first choice. He’d seemed as annoyed with her silly debutante imitation as she’d been. He’d even tried to engage her in intelligent conversation once or twice. She would have jumped at the chance, but the rest of the men, including Mr. Weaver she couldn’t help noticing, had looked at Sir Frederick as if he’d lost his mind. So she’d taken their cue and continued playing the adorable dimwit. She wasn’t quite ready to give up her chances with all of them just to impress one. If Sir Frederick didn’t come to call in the next few days, she’d simply have to seek him out. If they had an opportunity to form a better acquaintance, she reasoned, it was very possible they could become friends.

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