A Curse of the Heart (29 page)

Feeling an odd flutter in her chest, her mind oblivious to whatever it was Emily had just said, Sophie placed her hand on the counter and inhaled deeply through her nose.

“Why … why would your mother think that?”

Emily glanced back over her shoulder and then leaned forward. “Mother said it’s the least he can do. She’s spent the last six years moaning and complaining about him, and there she was yesterday morning, a smile spread right across her face, waving her handkerchief at him as his carriage rattled by.”

A hard lump formed in Sophie’s throat, forcing her to swallow deeply. “The marquess has come home?”

“Yes,” Emily beamed. “Isn’t it wonderful? Lord Danesfield has returned to Westlands.”

“Wonderful,” Sophie repeated, fear and loathing hiding within that one feigned word.

Emily gave a teasing wink. “He’ll probably call on you today, what with you being his closest neighbour. Course, he’ll be expecting your brother to be home.”

Sophie’s stomach twisted into gut-wrenching knots as she recalled her last encounter with Sebastian Ashcroft. The image conjured was so real that she smoothed her hand down the front of her dress, expecting to feel the evidence of the dumpy fourteen-year-old girl.

“Just make sure there’s someone with you,” Emily said as her gaze drifted over Sophie’s hair. “You know what the gossips say about him. Though I don’t believe it myself.”

Sophie smiled and nodded in acquiesce: a bid to maintain her fragile composure. Her heart thumped violently in protest, desperate to tell the world that he was everything people imagined him to be: a coward, a rake, and a debauched fool.

“He’s here. He’s here. I knew he’d come,” Mrs. Potts said running up to the front window. She turned to Emily. “Don’t just stand there. Make yourself presentable, girl.”

Emily skittered over to the window. “Mother’s right,” she said as her eyes grew wide. “The marquess is here, and he is heading in the direction of our shop.”

The world suddenly tipped off its axis, and Sophie gripped the counter to steady her balance. Little lights flashed before her eyes and the room melted into a hazy mist.

Emily rushed over to her. “The marquess is here,” she said, her mother’s excitement obviously contagious.

Sophie thought to put her handkerchief to her mouth lest she catch it, but there was no danger of that. Excitement was definitely not what she felt.

She gripped Emily’s hands, the blood rushing from her face and pooling at her feet as though expecting an army of heathens to suddenly burst through the door. “I don’t want to see him,” Sophie cried. “You must hide me, Emily.” Fearing she sounded like a raving lunatic and in a bid to infuse an element of logic into her plea, she added, “I don’t want him to ask about my brother. I don’t want him to know I am on my own. At least not yet.”

Emily gave her a knowing look. “Well, there’s no sense in taking chances,” she said. “Quick, you can hide behind here.” She directed Sophie to the concealed dressing room, pulled back the red curtain and ushered her inside. “Wait in here until I come and get you. Mother is too busy flapping to even notice.”

Emily closed the curtain, leaving her alone in the shrouded space and Sophie could hear the heavy beat of her heart thumping in her ears.

The sound of scraping wood and the tinkling of a bell preceded the heavy thud of booted footsteps.

“Good day, my lord,” Mrs. Potts chirped. “May I say, what a pleasure it is to have you home at last.”

“Good day to you, Mrs. Potts. It is certainly a pleasure to be back.”

Sophie closed her eyes tight and placed the palm of her hand over her stomach in a bid to stop her traitorous body responding to the warmth of his tone, to the slow, purposeful drawl.

You hate him, she cried silently, chastising her fickle heart.

“Indeed, I am in desperate need of new gloves,” he continued, no doubt much to Mrs. Potts delight. “And I can see you have an excellent selection.”

In the small confines of her curtained prison, Sophie did not hear the rest of the conversation. Her mind drifted back to the study, to the young girl hiding behind the drapes desperate to hear more from the handsome buck.

“I will speak to Sophie,” her brother James had said. “Every time I turn around she is nipping at your heels like an annoying little dog.”

He spoke then, and she remembered her tummy flipping somersaults. “That is what country girls do, James. They are tedious and tiresome and will not rest until you die of boredom. I can picture your sister married to a vicar, listening to him drone on about the righteous and eating supper at six. She will sit with her hands in her lap and only speak when spoken to.”

James chuckled. “What you desire, is someone more
seasoned
.”

“Precisely. Did I tell you about the lady I met in London recently? She had the sweetest mouth …”

Sebastian Ashcroft broke her heart that day.

And the irony of her current situation was not lost on her.

With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

Her long black curls were tied loosely at her nape as opposed to the ridiculous knots she wore as a girl. Her slender, shapely figure no longer resembled an over-sized dumpling. No one thought her weak and insipid; the whole village knew her to be strong and fiercely independent. The silly little girl had grown into a woman, and she did not need to hide behind curtains anymore.

With renewed confidence, she straightened her back, lifted her chin and threw back the velvet curtain. “The bonnet is divine, Emily,” she said striding out of the dressing room. “I shall call and collect it tomorrow.” As she approached the door she could feel the heat of his gaze, and he rushed forward to hold it open. She refused to look at him directly but decided to be civil. “Good day, Mrs. Potts. Good day, my lord,” she said, resisting the temptation to run all the way home.

Lost to the Night

The Brotherhood Series

Book 1

“a recommended read for anyone seeking to escape into an elegant and magical world of timeless passion” -
The Romance Reviews

An earl with a terrifying secret ...

Alexander Cole was a man ruled by his voracious appetite for carnal pleasures until a golden-haired devil in the guise of a goddess lures him into an encounter that costs him his humanity. With nothing left but bitterness in his heart, he locks himself away in his dilapidated Elizabethan mansion and chains the gates to all intruders.

A lady hoping to prove love conquers all ...

When her aunt suffers an injury in a carriage accident, Evelyn Bromwell rushes through the forest in search of help. Drawn to the mysterious old mansion, she is left aghast to find such a frosty reception. Yet despite the earl’s rude and brusque manner, Evelyn is eager to discover the reason behind his austere façade.
Once desire begins to burn, Alexander and Evelyn are unable to deny the soul-deep connection that exists between them. But Evelyn must make a choice — marry the kind and affable Mr. Sutherby or risk everything in the hope of thawing an immortal’s frozen heart.