“Alex—”
“I see that you changed the curtains. Very wise.” His hand moved up to caress her calf.
She’d found the lighter, considerably less musty set in the attic. “Thank you,” she said automatically. “Now please let me go. Someone could walk in.”
“They could, but they won’t. Not if your butler has anything to say about it. I think he was rather taken with me.” His hand slid up just a little.
“He was taken with your title.”
“I knew it would come in handy someday,” he murmured.
“Mrs. Summers may return.”
“You are always saying that, and she never does. I’m beginning to wonder if the woman is a figment of my imagination.”
He leaned down to kiss her, but she jerked her head to the side and his lips brushed her cheek instead. He gave a weary sigh. “What is it, Sophie? Last night—”
“We were in a well-concealed gazebo with little chance of being seen.”
“Yes, but now—”
“Now we are in my front drawing room where anyone might walk in.”
“Perhaps, but it—”
“Will not be repeated, Alex,” she said resolutely. “I don’t regret last night, not one second of it, but it can’t happen again.”
“Why the hell not?” he demanded, his hand stilling on her knee.
“Because I said so.”
“That is the single most infantile excuse I have ever heard.”
“That may be, but if you are a gentleman you will respect my right to use it.”
Alex opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a knock at the front door. With all the interruptions, he was beginning to understand how William had felt that day in the office. He didn’t like it one bit.
“Alex, please.”
He swore under his breath, but let her slip off his lap. She was across the room and sitting primly on the settee by the time her guest arrived.
As was the habit of all gentlemen, Alex stood whenever a guest entered the room. He didn’t actually own the room, but he was feeling rather possessive of the woman who did, and he liked the idea of him and Sophie standing together against a common intruder. He immediately wished he had kept his seat. Lord Heransly didn’t warrant common courtesy, even when he wasn’t trespassing on Sophie’s presence. The man was a vile reprobate—even his parents despaired of him. Rumor had it his father had drastically cut his son’s allowance in order to support the young man’s growing legion of bastards, and Heransly had complained bitterly over the expense. One night at White’s Alex had heard him whisper, “That is why we have poor houses.”
“Lord Heransly.” Sophie’s tone was pleasant enough, but Alex could detect a hint of dismay in her features. She wasn’t too pleased to see the man either. Good.
“Your Grace.” Lord Heransly gave a low bow.
Alex barely inclined his head. “I believe Miss Everton greeted you.”
Heransly looked taken aback at the rebuke. “Er…yes, of course. My apologies, Miss Everton.” He bowed again, this time to Sophie. “It is a pleasure to see you, as always.”
Alex was sorely tempted to jerk his knee up into Heransly’s face. He could always claim an unfortunate tic, the result of an old battle wound, perhaps. He forced himself to relax. This man was a close friend of Loudor’s. Alex couldn’t afford to beat him senseless.
“What brings you here, Heransly?” Alex strove for, and to his own amazement managed, a friendly sort of tone. He knew exactly what Heransly was after, and he didn’t like it.
“I suspect the same thing that brought you here.” Heransly gave him a conspiratorial wink that made Alex want to reach out and tear an eyelid off. It was a shame he couldn’t blame that on a muscle spasm.
“I’m afraid I’ve already engaged Miss Everton for—”
“A drive,” Sophie said quickly.
Alex shot her an amused glance. “A drive,” he allowed.
“In this weather?” Heransly inquired, glancing around Alex to peer at the windows.
Sophie nodded. “Seems silly to wait about for a sunny day,” she explained. “Especially in England. I expect Mrs. Summers will be here any minute to chaperone.”
“I suppose,” Heransly said skeptically.
“I’ll just have the carriage brought around.” She skirted both men and furniture alike, and went in search of James, the butler. Something about Lord Heransly made her a little edgy, and the way Alex’s jaw kept clenching and unclenching made her downright nervous.
Heransly watched her go, looking increasingly confused. “You didn’t bring your own carriage, Rockeforte?”