As Luck Would Have It (22 page)

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.”

“You’re right, Penny. The flowers will be lovely. Thank you for cheering me up.” The thought of a colorful garden wasn’t really sufficient to improve Sophie’s mood, but it seemed unkind to say so.

“Why did you need cheering?” asked a male voice from the doorway. Sophie jumped, hoped fervently her reaction hadn’t been noticed, and turned in time to see Alex enter the room and claim a seat. He was immediately followed by Sophie’s butler, looking harried but determined.

“The Duke of Rockeforte!” James announced breathlessly.

“Yes, thank you, James.”

“I wish he’d stop doing that,” Alex grumbled as the man took his bow and left.

In an effort to appear mildly amused rather than suprised and imprudently delighted at his sudden appearance, she pasted on a smirk. “You tried to outrun him, didn’t you?”

“Yes, and an undignified spectacle it was too, racing past your manservant like a twelve-year-old boy.”

“I could have told you it wouldn’t work,” Sophie informed him. “I specifically instructed him to announce your arrival regardless of the fuss you might make. I’ve noticed how much you enjoy extra attention.”

Alex just snorted.

Penny did an admirable job of smothering a giggle. “Will you be needing anything else, miss?”

“Thank you, no. You may take the rest of the day for yourself if you like, I won’t be going out to night.”

“Thank you, miss.”

Sophie watched her maid depart, then turned a critical eye to her guest. True to his word, Alex hadn’t brought flowers, candy, or poetry. Sick to death of the vapid conversation she’d been forced to endure with other gentlemen, Sophie was
forced to admit she would have welcomed Alex today with open arms if he had come bearing a basket full of poisonous asps. She was that desperate for a respite from her exhausting charade, and Alex provided the first chance she’d had for one in days.

Kate had left for Haldon Hall, her family’s country estate, to assist her mother with the final preparations before their house party, and Mirabelle had reluctantly gone to her uncle’s for a short visit. Sir Frederick’s company had allowed for some mea sure of relief, but he seemed rather preoccupied with personal matters of his own and made only sporadic appearances at events. It seemed terribly unfair that the one gentleman on the list she actually liked was the one she saw the least.

“You’re woolgathering, Sophie.”

“Hmm? Oh, so I was.”

“You haven’t answered my earlier question. Why did you require cheering?”

He asked the question lightly, but she noticed the careful way he studied her face. She kept her voice and expression shuttered.

“Just the weather,” she remarked with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You’re lying.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Why would you say that?”

“If I told you how I know, you’d take more care in the future and I’d lose that particular advantage, wouldn’t I?”

“I believe I was inquiring as to
why
you thought you knew I was lying, not
how
you knew I was lying, which would imply that I actually
was
lying.” And if that tangled mess of words didn’t distract him from his original query, she rather thought nothing would.

“I’ve no interest in deciphering that, let alone responding to it. Just answer the original question, if you please. Why did you require cheering?”

Damn. She should have known that tactic wouldn’t work
on him. She tried not saying anything at all, but Alex quickly filled the silence.

“You’re not going out to night,” Alex murmured thoughtfully. “You’re not ill, are you?”

“No, I’m not ill. I’m just tired. Am I not allowed to have a bad day?”

“Of course you are. I’m just curious as to why today receives that particular distinction.”

Sophie slumped in her chair. She simply could not think of a way to answer him without lying.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. “I ran into your Mrs. Summers in the park this morning. She mentioned you had a pleasant time last night…said you looked happy.”

She hadn’t been happy last night. She just hadn’t been miserable, at least not until the very end. She’d attended a large dinner party at Mr. and Mrs. Granville’s Mayfield home. The only affair of the week that had not claimed a single one of her suitors as a guest. That alone had made the dinner more pleasant than most.

She’d accepted the invitation because Mr. Granville was on her
other
list—the one of possible traitors given her by Mr. Smith. She’d enjoyed an evening of good food, and surprisingly good company considering the host was a possible Napoleon sympathizer. And, once again, she had done her duty by sneaking about his house and slipping into his study while the ladies went to the drawing room and the gentlemen stayed in the dining room to enjoy their port. And once again, she had come up empty-handed.

To make matters worse, she’d returned to an animated discussion about the Duke of Rockeforte and Lord Thurston. Both of whom, it seemed, had been recently heard at White’s making a solemn pledge to remain unmarried until the age of forty. Lord Loudor had acted as witness.

The evening had lost a good deal of its charm after that.
No matter that she’d known all along that Alex wasn’t wooing her as one does a wife, to hear his intentions so plainly spelled out pinched at her heart. She could have done with the illusion that the idea of marriage to her had at least crossed his mind.

In the parlor, Alex continued to speak in spite of her obvious reticence. “Last night aside, I haven’t personally seen you truly enjoying yourself at a single event you’ve attended.”

“Not every event I’ve attended included you.”

“True,” he replied. But most of them had; she simply wasn’t aware of it. He’d wanted to give her some degree of space. A chance to come to him for help with what ever was eating at her. And, he could acknowledge to himself, a chance to miss him, just a little. “But I’ve been present at a few, and at every one you made certain to surround yourself with the same group of men with whom you have nothing in common. I’m willing to wager that has something to do with your current dissatisfaction.”

“Alex, we’ve been over this.”

“But I’ve yet to receive a satisfactory explanation for your behavior. You evade, you equivocate, and you lie. I want to know why.” He leaned forward in his chair and leveled a hard look at her. “Why are you so determined to encourage the attentions of men you don’t care for?”

“They’re only white lies,” she grumbled. “And I only make them when you press me for information I’m not ready to give.” She didn’t bother denying his correct assessment of her feelings toward the Listed Gentlemen, not when he could so easily tell when she was lying. She studied his face a moment, and in her mind’s eye she saw herself confiding in him, heard him offer his help…as a protector, or worse, as a matchmaker. Her stomach rolled at the thought, and she sat up straighter, lifted her chin.

“That’s an evasion,” Alex pointed out.

“It happens to be the truth. I’m not discussing this with you,
Alex. You can either accept that and we can move on to far more agreeable topics, or you can leave, but I’ve no intention of squandering the rest of my afternoon arguing with you.”

Alex deliberately took his time deciding, and Sophie barely refrained from squirming in her seat, or worse, admitting to her bluff. Even fighting with Alex was preferable to sitting alone in the house with no distraction from her troubles.

Alex stared at her a moment longer, then relaxed once again. “Very well.”

“Very well, you will abide by my wishes and stay, or very well, you will abide by my wishes and leave?”

Alex smiled at her little jab. “The former. So come, you offered agreeable conversation. Let’s have it then.”

Sophie nearly closed her eyes in relief. Now she could spend the rest of the day sitting here with Alex discussing everything from politics to fashion. He wouldn’t speak down to her or temper the choice of topics. He’d ask her opinion, listen carefully to what she said, and almost certainly disagree with her. But rather than give her a patronizing pat on the hand and an equally patronizing smile, he’d debate the subject with her as an equal. She adored their verbal sparring, even when she suspected he was being difficult on purpose. Alex might see her as a pretty keepsake to be won, but at least he regarded her as a pretty keepsake with an active mind.

They were in the midst of a perfectly enjoyable debate regarding the likelihood of a war with the Americans when he stood and said, “We’ll have to continue this another day. I must be going.”

“What? But you just got here.” Good Lord, she hoped that didn’t sound quite as pathetic as she thought it did.

“It’s coming on five,” Alex said checking the wall clock. “I’ve been here near two and a half hours.”

“But I thought…”

“What did you think?” he asked sincerely, smoothing his coat and straightening his cravat.

That he would stay for dinner, she thought. That he would convince her to go out to night after all, just the two of them, unless a proper chaperone was required.

“That you would stay longer,” she said instead, hoping to salvage what little pride her over eager mouth had left her.

“Why, Miss Everton, will you miss me?”

Sophie snorted by way of answer.

“I don’t suppose that translates to ‘yes, dreadfully,’ in any of those languages you know?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Pity.” He walked over to give her a chaste peck on the forehead. “If you were willing to beg, I might be willing to stay. Now, I shall have to keep my other appointment.”

“With my cousin?”

Alex appeared not to hear the censure in her voice. “No actually, I have business with his friend Lord Heransly.”

The earl’s son? The one he had warned her about?

“I’ll see you at Haldon,” he said.

“Not before?” So much for her pride, but the house party was still several days away, and—

“Certain you aren’t willing to beg?”

She gave him a sarcastic little sneer, then added, “That was in English as well, in case you were wondering.”

Alex just laughed, took two quick strides, and kissed her hard and fast before she could argue. He pulled back and stared at her for a moment, brushed a thumb along her bottom lip. “Lord, I love your mouth.”

By the time Sophie had gathered wit enough for a response, he was gone.

The next day, she received a note from Alex.

Dear Sophie
,

Should you find yourself in need of my assistance on some matter, please do not hesitate to send immediate word to my country estate. The address can be found below.

Yours
,

Alex

P.S. I promise not to make you beg.

She kept it on her nightstand.

A stocky, middle-aged man sat, brandy in hand, in one of London’s quieter taverns. Across from him sat a much shorter gentleman whose exotic features, and tastes in spirits, marked him as a foreigner.

“This is quite an undertaking,” the shorter man commented. “Are you sure it will work?”

“As sure as anyone could be, I suppose. It’s been given a great deal of forethought and planning.”

“We are still relying heavily on luck.”

“It was my understanding the girl has an abundance of luck,” the stocky man replied.

“Both good and bad, same as the rest of us.”