Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

“How is Toby?” she whispered. “I can’t believe he never said a word about Gervais, when he had every motive to humiliate me publicly and demand restitution. Was he horribly hurt when I left?”


“Which answer are you hoping to hear? That he has endured great agony for love of you, or that he has forgotten you already?” Lucy laid a hand over Sophia’s. “He has suffered, but I believe his pride incurred a deeper wound than his heart. Regardless, he is too good to humiliate anyone or make demands. He and Felix searched all England for you. You had us quite anxious, you know.”

Guilt pinched in Sophia’s chest. “How you all must hate me.”

Lucy squeezed her hand. “How grateful we all are to have you safely home. I’m certain your family will feel the same. How could they complain? They’ll have a title in the family now, just as they always wanted.”

Bel interrupted their conference, a teacup and saucer balanced in either hand.

“Miss Grayson,” Lucy asked, accepting her teacup, “are you to have a debut this Season?”

“Oh, no.” Bel handed the other cup to Sophia.

“Maybe you should reconsider.” Sophia perked, thinking of the possibilities. “We had thought a formal presentation imprudent,” she told Lucy, “given my situation. But if the scandal has truly been contained … Bel might look as high as she wishes. She could even marry a lord, should she so desire.”

“But I don’t want to marry a lord,” Bel protested.

“No, you don’t.” Lucy reached for a teacake. “It’s not nearly as amusing as it sounds. People have such wearying expectations. Ever since my husband took up his seat in Lords, it’s been one thing after another. I’m always being asked to subscribe to Lady Thus-and-so’s charitable society or purchase vouchers for some benefit musicale.”

“Truly?” Bel sipped her tea, looking pensive.

“Jeremy gives me more money than I know what to do with, so naturally I support them all. But worse, people are continually asking my opinion on lofty topics … as if I understand tariffs or navies. I try to smile and change the subject, but they insist on assigning me a ridiculous amount of influence, simply because my husband’s stared down a few fusty members of Parliament.” Lucy took a bite of cake. “What ever you do, don’t marry a lord.”

“What interesting advice.” Bel put down her teacup.

Sophia touched Bel’s wrist. “We’re only teasing. You shall marry for love. Your brother would not have it any other way.”

“If that is so, than I doubt I shall marry at all,” Bel said. “My heart is already so full, with devotion to my family and passion for God’s work. There cannot be room for romantic love, too.”

“The heart is not the only organ involved.” Lucy gave Sophia a wicked smile.

“Perhaps I could be persuaded to marry,” Bel continued, “if I could find a man of consequence and principle, who possessed a keen sense of justice and shared my passion for charity …”

“I hope you do find such a man,” Sophia said. “But, Bel … to have a happy marriage, two people must share a passion for something other than charity.”

Bel looked up. “Truly? Like what?”

Lucy broke into laughter, and Sophia could not help but join her.

“No, really,” Bel insisted, looking from one to the other. “Tell me what you mean.”

“Miss Grayson, never fear,” Lucy said. “We will expand your education.” She looked to Sophia. “You do still have The Book?”

Sophia choked on her tea. Under no circumstances would she permit Gray’s sister so much as a glance at that book—not after the way she’d illustrated it.

“Well,” she hedged, avoiding Lucy’s inquisitive look, “you see, it isn’t—”

The house keeper saved her, thank goodness.

“Beg pardon, my lady. There’s an urgent matter requiring your attention.” Mrs. Prewitt gave a cryptic nod and disappeared into the corridor.

With relief, Sophia muttered her excuses to Lucy and Bel as she rose to her feet. By the time she reached the hallway, however, the house keeper had disappeared. Frowning, she wandered toward the rear of the house. Perhaps there was some problem in the kitchens, or with the coal delivery?

As she passed the door to Gray’s study, a familiar, muscled arm shot out into the corridor, catching her by the waist.

Laughing, she stumbled into the room, quickly finding herself caught between cool walnut paneling at her back and the hot, solid wall of man before her. Ever since their wedding—or since the Kestrel storeroom, more likely—Gray seemed to find it an irresistible challenge, to catch her unawares in an unlikely location and pull her into a feverish embrace. Sophia had no wish to discourage the habit, but this wasn’t the ideal time for a tryst.