Emily French (8 page)

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Authors: Illusion

BOOK: Emily French
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Seth’s expression hardened. Her hair framed her face in a mass of dark ringlets that cast strange shadows on her elfin face. Candid, clever, guileless face. A strange conflict rose in his breast. Propriety bade him prod her no further, but he felt his anger returning.
With a menace that would have made any soldier tremble, he probed. “Did you, or did you not, go there this afternoon?”
Sophy swallowed. Her heart pounded unbearably at the bitterness in his voice. She thought she recognized what was wrong. In her ignorance, she had blithely visited an area where, she now knew, no decent woman would dare to go.
Seth’s sense of honor was offended. Which was very stupid. She had never doubted the usefulness of knowledge, and Madame Bertine had proved most informative. Of course, she had never paused to see with what coin such information could be bought.
She nodded. “Er... yes, I did.”
He curled his palms around the neck of the glass in front of him. Smiled at her, the merest slant of his mouth. The smile of a beast hot on the scent of its prey. “Well, how did the visit go?”
Sophy recalled Madame Bertine’s sage advice on love, sex and marriage. Her eyes lit up. “It was... interesting.”
Uncle Heinrich gave a deep sigh, which seemed to come from the very depths of his being. Twin blue flames glittered in Seth’s eyes. Pieter ran his eye swiftly over Seth’s face, and raised his eyebrows. Bernard rolled his eyes as he pursued with his tongue an errant drop of cream that was rolling down his chin.
“I see. Do you intend going there again?” His words were level, but his eyes spoke a different message. They were accusing, questioning, as if in some way she had hurt him.
Sophy’s ringlets vibrated. She looked enormously pleased as the affirmation issued from her lips. “Oh, yes. I have another appointment for the day after tomorrow.”
“Perhaps you would like me to accompany you?” There was a lazy, taunting quality in Seth’s voice. He took a sip of his wine. “As your husband, it is proper that I share your... interests. Will you take me along on your next visit?”
Without hesitation, Sophy shook her head, her voice warm and earnest. “Oh, no. No. I couldn’t do that. I don’t think you would be interested in what I have planned.”
The moment she had spoken she realized that she had made a foolish admission that might lead him to suppose that something less innocent than concocting a new wardrobe was on the agenda.
But he only shrugged and remarked, “Of course. No interference in your projects, no
comments
even, isn’t that what we agreed?” Seth spoke smoothly, covering his anger. His hands clung to the wineglass as to a lifeline. Not where he’d like them to be—around his wife’s neck.
“It’s not that!” Sophy’s heart was pounding, but her face showed nothing of her inward agitation as she quickly retrieved her error. “This is simply a private arrangement between ... friends.”
Pieter suddenly threw back his head and laughed. “It is good to know marriage has not changed you, Cousin.” Turning to Seth, he declared, “Sophy is incorrigible. I see you have your hands full already, Cousin Seth.”
Any other time Sophy would have been furious with Pieter. Now, she took a firm hold on her temper. She knew her cousin was being deliberately provocative. He could never resist an opportunity to stir up a promising dispute. Her little chin went up and her eyes flashed.
“Pieter, you will mind your business. As for you, Seth, there is no need to storm and bluster at the dinner table. It is neither the time nor the place to discuss my private affairs.”
“You are right, Sophy. It is discourteous to our guests. We will discuss your ‘private affairs’ later.”
Uncle Heinrich pounced on this break in the conversation with alacrity “An infusion of funds from war bonds to industry will get profits leaping again, Seth. Don’t you agree?”
“I hope there will not be too many points on which we do not agree, sir. Would you like some more dessert, Bernard?”
“Capital. I don’t mind if I do.”
Sophy allowed herself to breathe a great sigh of relief.
 
“Your coffee, sir.”
The valet entered the room bearing a small silver tray on which rested a white china cup and saucer.
Seth gratefully accepted the proffered cup and sipped the steaming, deep brown liquid. After all the wine he had drunk at dinner, he was inordinately thirsty.
He lounged in a tufted leather wing chair, the cup loosely held in one hand. With the other he absently rubbed his injured leg. A glass of fine Madeira stood on the table beside him.
“Anything more, sir?”
“That will be all. Thank you, Ned.”
As Seth dismissed his valet, his mind raced over the day’s events, the frustration and the dilemma of Sophy, his wife. His emotions were compounded equally by amazement at Sophy’s personality, puzzlement at how he was to deal with her and anger at himself for being so reluctant to claim the privileges due as her husband.
His little wife had brazenly admitted to visiting Greene Street, which even the superintendent of the New York police acknowledged was a den of prostitutes. And she had audaciously revealed further planned assignations.
Yet the air of innocent bravado that clung to her intrigued him. He wanted to keep her safe and warm, protect her from harm. It was all very honorable and very genteel and, to his mind, very unnecessary.
Sophy challenged. Sophy dared. Sophy was trouble.
Unbidden, the memory of her soft form rose in his mind. He could see those morning-dew eyes, framed by sooty lashes, that lured and enticed him to her.
Feel again the warmth of her body, shoulders bare, breast exposed, the supple feminine sway of her hips as they melted against him. Smell again that elusive feminine scent drifting from her raven-dark hair. Hear the little gasp of pleasure she gave as his fingers slid over her breast. Taste those dusky peaks, the salty sweetness of her flesh.
Desire ripped through him, hot and potent. There had been no one like this since... He could not remember.
His heart leaped. Fate had answered, and he should follow the inclination. It was time to see how much she dared. Meet her challenge. He drained his glass, and struggled to his feet.
 
“Your chocolate, Sophy. Will ye be wanting anything else?”
“No, thank you, Tessa.”
Sophy waited until the door was firmly shut before she sat down. She had to sit down. She could feel the trembling begin in her legs and travel up her body until she was forced to wrap her arms around herself. She was working herself up into a fine case of nervousness tinged with anger, the anger because she had no reason to be nervous.
Had not Seth been avoiding her since their marriage? Had he not been inordinately angry about her visit to Greene Street today? One would think she had broken some law, or committed a felony.
When all she had done was to confirm a long-held suspicion that her father kept a woman for his “convenience and delight.” A woman who had explained that she, Sophy, had it in her power to give Seth pleasure or to make him miserable. And, moreover, she had revealed
how.
The difficulty was for Sophy to find a way out of the stupid impasse she had thoughtlessly created. It had taken some fast-talking to convince Matt Tyson to agree, but Sophy knew there was no real alternative.
Work absorbed all Seth’s spare energy. He needed the money to restore his battered pride. Only then might he change his outlook. Allow his leg time to heal. Find time to live, to love.
Thoughtfully, Sophy eyed the carved wooden jewel box that hid the telegraph message. The problem appeared in sharp outline again. She had been thorough. There was no way Seth would discovered her deceit. She had a mind for detail.
What concerned her was that there had been no information available from the insurance company, not even a compilation of contracts covered. A sure sign that someone was systematically draining funds from Seth’s business empire by fraud. She would find the evidence.
It would take time. Later, there could be a thorough examination. Now, she had more urgent work to do. Seduce her husband.
Sophy was still planning how to get Seth to join her when the door opened. He stood there, still dressed in his evening attire. His gaze was unreadable, but the fighting stance of his body was not.
Legs braced slightly apart, he looked prepared for battle from any quarter. He gave her a strange smile, as if he knew what she was thinking.
Immediately all the compelling emotions she’d felt when she first met him came back to her. Her heart leaped. Gathering her shattered composure together, she managed a faint smile. “Good evening, Seth. Would you like some chocolate? I was just about to have a cup.”
She poured as she spoke, as if she fully expected him to join her in this small domestic activity. Her hands moved quickly, slim, exciting.
Before he could reply, Seth found he had accepted the cup and saucer. So he leaned against the barley-twist brass bedpost and swallowed a mouthful. He grimaced at the sickly sweetness of the thick brew.
“Chocolate is good for you. It is a natural source of energy.”
Sophy smiled at him, a shy and pleased expression, then went back to the marble-topped dressing table and began brushing her hair. The gesture, so deliberate and full of meaning, hovered in front of Seth’s eyes as he silently drank the warm chocolate.
Minute by minute the storm within him mounted. With her dark hair streaming down her back, she looked as meek. as an angel on the chapel ceiling. He realized with a sinking, helpless feeling that it was going to take every ounce of willpower he had to keep his emotional and physical distance from Sophy.
“Leave that! I want to talk to you,” he commanded, unable to keep the heaviness out of his voice. He so much wanted to put his hands on her hair that his fingers tingled.
Sophy looked up, blinking. He was standing beside the dressing table with the cup and saucer in his hands, watching her with his intense eyes. She stared at him mutely, then put her brush down.
Seth considered her, and hesitated for a moment. When he spoke the words came out with quiet ferocity. “I would be obliged if you would refrain from such activities as you indulged in today.”
There was a flash of indignation. This was not what was supposed to happen. Sophy drew in her breath. Her chin tilted up.
“You expect me to be kept here like a parrot on a perch with a chain around my leg?” Her voice was high, ten decibels above her normal speaking voice.
He picked up his cup, drained it, then set it down with a grimace before he spoke. “You signed a marriage contract. You are my wife, sworn to obey me.”
Sophy jumped to her feet. “In the eyes of the law, infants, lunatics, felons and married women have limited contractual ability. Accordingly, the contract I signed is worthless,” she flung back, mimicking his tone of voice with biting accuracy.
“The contract stands
until death us do part.
You will
honor and obey me
, Sophy. Do you understand? That means accepting my decisions in all areas, including your little projects!” His voice rose, and his eyes were blazing with fury.
Sophy could sense the suppressed violence in him, and it took a great deal of courage not to step back. If anyone else in the world had said such a thing in the tone of command Seth used, she would have resented it strongly, and would have gone in the opposite direction.
As it was, her small, indomitable chin took on a defiant curve and her lips folded in a willful, stubborn line. Unable to speak for a minute, she emitted an aggravated little sound.
It hadn’t even occurred to her that he wouldn’t be easily fooled. Her foot tapped the carpet. When at last she found her voice, it was charged with indignation. “I must insist on the terms of our wedding bargain.”
Completely unaware as she stood silhouetted in front of the fire that her body was clearly outlined in the flickering light, she stood legs apart, like a diminutive, obstinate mule.
A tightening began in Seth’s loins, and he shifted to relieve his discomfort. The action didn’t help. She raised her eyes and they were like the soft mist of dawn over a clear spring sky. While he gazed at Sophy, the excitement grew stronger, a potent reminder of his self-imposed abstinence.
It was like warfare when the hardest part was in the waiting. It fed the tension. Chewed at the nerves. Eroded self-discipline. He reminded himself he had promised to abide by her rules. To wait until she felt ready to assume her wifely duties. The reminder served to escalate his already flaming emotions. Clutching at the one thin thread of sanity left in him, he drew in a harsh breath.
“You will do as I say! I will not have you associating with a woman set up as a professional courtesan.
Is that clear?”
Sophy’s tone matched his. “Only if I am so inclined!”
Damn and blast men. They were always wanting to interfere. Always wanting to impose their will. When all she had wanted... Seth’s sharp, angry tone of authority cut off Sophy’s thoughts.

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