“Perhaps not, but we’re about to arrive at your front door.”
“Oh!” She replaced the hat pin in her reticule and began making futile attempts to straighten her disheveled appearance. “Thank you for everything, Alex,” she said sincerely, if a bit distractedly.
“It was my pleasure. Shall I see you tomorrow then?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, slapping at the dirt on her skirts. “I may have other plans.”
“What a flatterer you are.”
She crammed her mostly crushed bonnet atop her head and tied the ribbons in a limp bow beneath her chin. “How do I look?”
Bedraggled, wrinkled, dirty, mussed and heart-wrenchingly beautiful.
Alex took her face in his hands and kissed her. He didn’t have time for anything more than a brief but passionate pressing of his lips to hers. But it was enough to heat his blood and render her breathless. He nipped her bottom lip playfully, then kissed her gently on the brow.
“I thought you said I had ruined the moment,” she whispered.
“You had,” he replied, “but only for a moment.”
Seventeen
Sophie sighed and stared listlessly out the parlor window. For the last week she had attended every dinner, soiree, picnic, ball, and musicale that had promised even the smallest chance of interaction with one of her “Listed Gentlemen,” as Kate and Mirabelle had taken to calling her matrimonial candidates. To the delight of her suitors, she had diligently played the role of adorable twit at each event. And at each event she grew increasingly tired and disheartened by the charade.
Prior to coming to London, Sophie had participated in less than a dozen social occasions in her life, and she had been excited by the prospect of everything a season in London had to offer. But not like this.
She had never wanted to be an actual debutante. She just wanted to see them.
Now that she’d had the opportunity to do both, she was more than ready to move on to more pleasant endeavors. Thanks to her cousin, however, moving on wasn’t an option. She had to continue to act the insipid miss and catch a suitable husband. The trouble was, the more ardent her suitors became, the less confident she felt about her plan to marry one of them.
She didn’t want to be the wife of a man who thought all women were just pretty keepsakes to be bought or won. She felt guilty for deceiving them about who she really was, saddened by the realization that she would forever lose any chance of having a real husband and family. And she was overwhelmingly depressed by the certainty that she would never, ever, even if she lived to be a widow, feel as happy and free in the company of a man as she did in Alex’s.
Of course, she’d had precious little opportunity to challenge that certainty. She’d caught only glimpses of him since they’d struck their odd little deal in her carriage last week. A peek from across a ballroom before he’d disappeared with her cousin into the card room, a distant view of him in Hyde Park riding alongside Lord Thurston and Lord Calmaton.
She’d have thought he’d forgotten her entirely, a notion that brought both relief and terror, but two nights ago she’d settled into a seat at the opera, trying very hard not to think of the last time she had been there, with Alex, when she’d felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. She turned her head and there he was, ignoring the small crowd of people in his box and just…looking at her. She’d felt herself blush and he’d sent her a smile that was no smile at all. It was a long, slow, wicked grin. And it sent her blood racing. She wanted his arms around her again, his lips against her mouth, at her throat, his hands roaming, taking. She wanted the feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him.
She ached, quite simply ached, with wanting him.
And it wouldn’t do.
“Why the long face, miss?”
Licking dry lips, Sophie glanced up to see Penny setting a tray of refreshments on a side table. The young girl had been exceedingly helpful since Sophie took over the town house. Penny knew everything about the staff. Who did what, who worked best with whom, who should never be in the same room with whom. She’d even found James, the butler, after the first butler had opted to leave with Lord Loudor. She’d make an excellent house keeper one day. If Sophie had the resources, she would have given the maid a well-earned raise by now.
“It’s nothing, Penny. I’m just not used to all this rain, I suppose.”
“It is dreary, isn’t it?” Penny remarked, taking a quick glance out the window. “I find it helps to spend some time in the garden now and again, to remind me of all the good rain does. Think of the lovely blooms you’ll have, miss.”