The Earl I Adore (22 page)

Sophie really, really didn't want to say. The last thing she wanted to be was a dreadful scandalmonger like that horrible Marianne. But in this case, she didn't want to lie to her mother, especially since the truth of Julia's marriage would be common knowledge soon enough. Feeling like the worst sort of gossip, Sophie said, “He thought I might know where to find his sister.”

Interest flickered in her dark eyes as she leaned forward. “Is she missing?”

Miserably, Sophie shook her head. “She has secretly married their neighbor, the baronet. She did so without Evan's consent or knowledge, and he was understandably upset.”

“I see,” Mama murmured, sadness chasing across her features. “I can certainly relate. But I still don't understand what could have happened that would cause him to turn away from you in such a short amount of time. Were you insensitive to his predicament?”

Sophie looked down at her hands. It had seemed like such a kindness at the time, sharing how she understood his shock. But sitting here beneath Mama's watchful eye, she oddly felt like a traitor for having shared their shame. Not that it mattered—after the scene tonight, all of Bath would know by morning. Sighing, she met her mother's gaze. “I told him about Penelope.”

Mama visibly recoiled. “You did
what
? Sophie, how could you!” She jumped to her feet and began pacing, her expression hovering somewhere between anger and upset. As she paced, Sophie could practically see all the humiliation from the scene at the Assembly Rooms combining with her bitter disappointment and snowballing into fury. “Why couldn't you have secured his promise before all of this happened? You've destroyed your chances. You've destroyed
all
our chances. His status could have easily carried us out of this scandal, were his name aligned with ours.”

A flicker of anger ignited in Sophie's belly. Scandal be damned—she wanted him because she
loved
him. The threat of scandal may have been the impetus she had needed to take a risk, but her feelings for the man would have been the same either way.

Crossing her arms, she met her mother's accusing gaze. “I put everything I had into wooing the earl. If I did not succeed, it was not for lack of trying. As for telling him about Penelope, what difference did it make in the end? I'm not sorry for it.” She sat forward, trying to make her mother understand. “I said it in order to show
him that I knew how he felt, and because I wanted to help lessen the shock of his sister's actions. Who better to ease his pain than someone who had been through nearly the same thing?”

Mama paused in midstep, the anger abruptly draining from her face. “You might actually have a point.”

Sophie blinked in surprise. “I do?” She hadn't expected to get through to her mother.

“Yes, you do.” Striding back to the sofa, she sat down next to Sophie and grabbed her hands. “Before this all happened, the earl showed quite a lot of interest in you, did he not?”

“Um, well, I suppose,” Sophie hedged, not sure how to explain her relationship with him.

“You suppose?” Mama huffed, eyeing her carefully. “Did the earl ever kiss you?”

If she could have said no, she would have, but Sophie's cheeks immediately flamed red-hot, as good as answering the question for her. Knowing there was nothing for it, she nodded.

“Today? On your carriage ride?”

Sophie nodded again. There was really no point in lying about it.

“I see. So his interest remained until he learned the news of his sister.” A relieved smile parted her lips. “That is excellent news. There is hope yet, my little magpie.”

The growing optimism on her mother's face didn't bode well. Sophie quickly shook her head. “No, Mama. You don't understand. He made it quite clear that he had no intentions of seeing me again.
Ever.
It's hopeless.”

Her mother's eyes glinted with hard resolution as she waved off Sophie's words. “Nonsense, child. He was clearly overwrought by the shock of his sister's marriage. He likely needed a bit more time to sort himself out.”

Sophie didn't like where this was going. Mama had suffered a shock herself, not even an hour ago. Of course she would be grasping at straws, trying to find a way to fix the dreadful situation they now found themselves in. “You don't understand. He doesn't
want
me.” It hurt to say the words, but they were the stark truth.

Her mother sat up straight and tall, her chin lifted in determination. “No daughter of mine will give up this easily. Tomorrow, you shall go to him and be the support he so clearly needs. By then he will have regretted his words, and it is up to you to show your graciousness by looking past his momentary lapse.”

“But, Mama, such a thing would be impossibly unseemly. Without his sister in residence, I can't very well show up on his doorstep.”

“First of all, it sounds as though no one knows his sister is gone, and second of all, yes, you certainly can ‘show up on his doorstep,' as you so vulgarly put it. He is in his time of need, and clearly propriety is no longer a concern for us here. You have been and will forever be painted with the same broad brush as your sister, in that regard. You might as well use it to your advantage.”

Sophie's stomach roiled at the very thought, but there was no mistaking her mother's steely determination. There would be no putting her off. And as pathetic as it sounded, deep down, Sophie wanted to believe her mother was right. Perhaps since he'd now had a little time to adjust to the idea of his sister's marriage, he wouldn't be quite so harsh. It was possible he would regret the way he had handled things today.

Extremely unlikely, but possible.

Taking a shaky breath, Sophie nodded to her mother. “Very well.”

“Excellent,” Mama replied, clapping her hands
together. Turning a sly glance in Sophie's direction, she added, “And Sophie, if he has kissed you once, then there can be no doubt of his interest. I strongly suggest you entice him to kiss you again.”

Sophie was so mortified by the thought, she didn't even try to refuse. She simply nodded and came to her feet, wanting more than anything to escape. “Good night, Mama.”

Her mother rose as well, nodding. “Good night, magpie. Tomorrow things will turn around. You'll see.”

Sophie bobbed her head once before making her getaway. Already her heart was pounding at the very thought of what she would do on the morrow. She had never dreamed to be so bold as to call on a single gentleman, let alone in broad daylight. But with little left to lose, she was about to take the gamble of her life.

E
van hadn't slept well. He'd stayed up most of the night, decimating his best bottle of whiskey while contemplating the many things he would say to his sister when she finally showed herself. Of course, he couldn't remember a single one of them this morning. All he had to show for his efforts was a dull, pounding headache and a stiff neck from falling asleep in his chair.

Sitting down to a late breakfast, he ignored the toast he had halfheartedly tossed on his plate and picked up his coffee. Black, bitter, and hot—the perfect antidote to a night spent dipping too deep. After several long sips, he leaned back and sighed.

The breakfast room was distractingly quiet, and the absence of his sister weighed heavily on his heart. He avoided looking at her empty chair, focusing instead on the damp garden beyond the rain-splattered windowpanes. At least the weather was cooperating with his foul mood.

The door opened and closed, and Higgins appeared at his elbow. “Pardon me, my lord, but Miss Wembley is here, insisting to speak with you.”

Evan jerked around in his chair, sloshing hot coffee
over his fingers. He cursed, shaking the liquid from his hand even as he looked to Higgins. “Miss Wembley is
here
?”

“Yes, my lord. I would have sent her away at once, but she insisted that you would want to see her. I didn't wish to speak out of turn by telling her that Lady Julia was not in residence, and it was therefore highly improper for her to be here.”

Evan's mind raced. If Sophie had come here, knowing full well that his sister was not at home, then she must have a damn good reason to do so. Yes, he had been determined to set her aside yesterday, but that was before she risked her reputation by calling on him like this. Tossing his napkin on the table, he came to his feet. “Where is she?”

“Waiting in the foyer,” Higgins replied with an indignant little sniff. “I didn't think it wise to leave her outside in the rain, nor did it seem prudent to show her to the drawing room.”

Before the butler even finished speaking, Evan strode from the room and bounded down the stairs. When he saw her, he drew up short, surprised at how pale and drawn her features were. Her oversized bonnet cast her face in shadow, and instead of yellow, she wore a dreary dark blue traveling costume.

Swallowing past the rush of tenderness that assailed him, he hurried forward to speak with her. “What is it? Are you not well? Have you had word from my sister?”

She shook her head, setting the damp curls around her face swinging. “No, no, nothing like that. I'm afraid news of my sister's elopement has reached Bath. We are to leave this afternoon.”

Despite all of his own turmoil, his heart went out to her. “What happened?”

Her lips thinned as she glanced at the marble tile beneath his feet. “Miss Harmon took great delight in sharing the news during the intermission at the concert last night.”

The force of his anger took him by surprise. Damn the jealous chit. He could only imagine how upsetting it must have been for Sophie, right on the heels of their argument. He'd left her hurt and vulnerable, and she'd likely been torn to shreds, if he knew Miss Harmon.

“Damn it all,” he said, his voice sounding tortured on her behalf. “You didn't deserve that. Is there anything I can do to help?”

When her eyes flicked up to meet his, the depth of emotion he saw there made him flinch. Hurt and disappointment were in the forefront, but behind it, he could still sense the love she had so bravely admitted to. It made his chest ache so fiercely, it was all he could do not to wrap her in his arms.

“No, I . . . I just thought you should know that we were leaving. And I wanted you to know that I meant what I said about Julia. Try not to judge her too harshly. It's difficult to imagine what you'll do for love until you're faced with the prospect of living without it.”

He didn't want to talk about Julia just then. He was still angry enough with her that he didn't trust what he would say. Stepping forward, he started to reach out to Sophie, but thought better of it at the last moment. “No matter what has happened in your family, I believe that you're simply too bright a personality to be kept under a bushel. Someday, a man worthy of your love will come along, and when he does, I shall write you a letter just to say I told you so.”

He would also personally investigate the bastard to make sure he was good enough for her. He bit down on
the inside of his cheek and tried to regain his control. Just thinking about it made him want to hit something.

Whatever she had been hoping he would say, clearly that had not been it. She looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes full of both regret and acceptance. Letting out a soft sigh, she reached for his bare hand and lifted it in both of hers. Closing her eyes, she pressed a warm kiss to the tops of his knuckles, then turned his hand and placed another to his palm.

It was the sweetest torture he had ever endured. He stood completely still, unwilling to encourage her, but unable to pull away. Lowering their joined hands, she said, “Please give Julia my love. I shall miss you both greatly.”

She turned toward the door, and he stepped forward to open it for her. Everything inside of him screamed for him to slam the door, wrap her in his arms, and make her his own. But too much was riding on his shoulders, especially with Julia's reckless marriage. Clutching the doorknob, he bowed his head as she walked over the threshold and out of his life.

Or so he thought.

She was only a few feet from the open door when her mother came rushing up, her damp coat flapping behind her as her face contorted with outrage. “Sophie Marie Wembley, what have you done?” she cried.

What the hell?
Evan bolted outside to stand beside Sophie, who gaped at her mother in openmouthed shock. Putting a hand to her heart, she hurried forward. “Mama, please! Keep your vo—”

“Did he think to take advantage of you in your weakened state?” the woman demanded, rolling right over Sophie's attempt to speak. Color stained her plump cheeks as she pinned her daughter with an accusing glare. “I
came the moment I realized you were missing, but clearly I am too late if you were inside his lordship's home.
Alone
,” she added, her neck quivering with her dismay.

One of the neighbors' doors opened, and several other curtains were pulled aside. Lady Gorst, who had been stepping from her townhouse two doors down, veered away from her waiting carriage and hurried over, her thin face agog with the unfolding drama. It was just his luck the worst of the busybody neighbors would be witness to it all.

Evan's heart plummeted as he realized where all of this was headed.

Putting up both his hands, he forced a calm into his voice that he didn't feel. “Nothing to worry about, Mrs. Wembley. Miss Wembley merely came to call on my sister, and I informed her that she was not about.” It took all of his willpower not to grab the woman and shake the histrionics out of her. For God's sake, it wasn't as though Sophie had spent the night.

But the woman had worked herself up to high dudgeon. She turned to Lady Gorst, her hands to her chest. “How could he have invited my Sophie into his home, knowing full well his sister was not in residence? According to the maid, my sweet, impressionable daughter has been gone for over an
hour
.”

The dowager gasped, turning scandalized eyes on Evan. “Lord Evansleigh, how could you? Ruining this child so callously—have you no shame? No honor?”

God's teeth, they were bringing his honor into this? There was only one reason one would mention such a thing, and he refused to allow things to slip down that particular slope. “I've done nothing,” he said firmly. Exasperation balled in his chest as he tipped his head toward
the house. “For God's sake, Sophie wasn't inside for more than five minutes.”

Both women reared back, their movements almost comically synchronized.
“Sophie?”
Mrs. Wembley repeated, tears pooling in her eyes as if by magic. “You, sir, take far too much liberty with my daughter.”

Bloody, bloody hell!
Evan raked a hand through his hair, trying to recapture some semblance of sanity. “You just called her that. It was a slip of the tongue.”

Gathering her affront around her like a cloak, Mrs. Wembley marched closer to him. “Are you willing to swear to me that you have not called my daughter by her Christian name at any other time?”

“Mama, please don't do this,” Sophie begged, her voice stained with desperation.

But Mrs. Wembley didn't even acknowledge her as she scowled in Evan's direction. “Answer the question, if you please.”

Evan paused to take a breath, attempting to maintain his composure. Nothing would be helped if he lost his temper on the street. “Miss Wembley is a great friend to both my sister and myself. It is possible I have called her by her Christian name a time or two. Such a thing is hardly a capital offense, madam.”

The older woman stepped closer still. “It is a slippery slope, my lord. With God as your witness, have you taken any other liberties with my daughter?”

“Of course not,” he answered sharply.

“You have not kissed her?”

“Mama,”
Sophie hissed, grabbing her mother's arm. Mortification and guilt widened her eyes as she attempted to pull the older woman back.

Evan gritted his teeth, determined to stop the
impending disaster. He was not a liar, damn it. Still, his very freedom was on the line. “This has gone on quite enough,” he said sternly, backing up a step.

The dowager marchioness shuffled forward and thumped her cane on the pavement. “That is no answer, young man. Have you kissed this gel?”

Sophie released her hold and stepped between Evan and his neighbor. “Truly, I was here only a moment.
Nothing happened
.”

“Shush, child. I demand to hear the answer from Lord Evansleigh's lips. Have you or have you not kissed Miss Wembley?”

He held his silence, refusing to either answer the question or to lie about it.

Lady Gorst turned her dragon eyes on Sophie. “Has Lord Evansleigh taken liberties with your person? Have a care, gel, and do not dare think of lying to me.”

*   *   *

Sophie couldn't believe what was happening. How could Mama have tricked her like this? Panic welled in her chest, stealing her breath. Sophie had
never
wanted to trap Evan into marrying her. She could see the tautness of his jaw, the flinty burn of his eyes. He was trapped, and it was all her fault.

The dowager squinted her eyes, impatiently waiting for Sophie's response. Mama stood before her, a formidable presence. Sophie could so clearly see now what she had missed when Mama suggested she come: Her mother was desperate to save the family's name, and she was not going to allow this chance to go by, no matter what Sophie's wishes were.

If Sophie said no, her mother would know that she defied her. If she said yes, she would effectively trap a man who did not want her into marriage.

“I . . . ,” she said, her voice trailing off as she looked for some escape. Neighbors were turning into spectators as more and more faces appeared in windows and doors. She looked back to Evan and saw his eyes boring through her with a fierceness that she felt all the way to the pit of her stomach. She shook her head, unable to be the one to tip the scales in either direction.

Her mother stepped forward, her eyes rounding meaningfully. “Yes or no, Sophie. Honesty is of the utmost importance.” There was clear warning in the words. If Sophie did not obey, there would be hell to pay for her decision.

Cool rain drizzled down around them, dampening Sophie's gown and raising gooseflesh on her arms despite her spencer jacket. Looking her mother straight in the eye, she spoke the truth. “Lord Evansleigh has been a perfect gentleman to me. I am honored to call both him and his sister my friends, and wished only to bid them farewell as we return to Appleton.”

Her mother's gaze hardened. An angry silence stretched for little more than a heartbeat or two, but to Sophie, it felt interminable. Straightening her spine, Mama stepped back to face the earl. “Look at all of these people,” she said, sweeping her arm to encompass the many eyes that were trained on them. “You have irreparably compromised my daughter, my lord. Will you stand there and allow her to suffer the repercussions, or will you do the honorable thing and marry her?”

Almost in a daze, Sophie turned to Evan, light-headed, to learn her fate. His eyes were hooded, impossible to read as he met her gaze. He'd rushed outside without the benefit of a hat, so the rain now dampened his hair and clung to his eyelashes. He made no move to dash the moisture from his face as he silently considered her.

After what seemed like years, he blinked and turned
his attention to her mother. “Perhaps we should adjourn to my study. It would seem that we have much to discuss.”

Triumph erupted on Mama's face even as Sophie's heart shuddered to a stop. A second later it roared back to life, leaving her reeling from the sudden rush. There was no mistaking the earl's meaning: He would marry her.