Amelia Grey - [Rogues' Dynasty 06] (3 page)

There were times when she couldn’t believe she’d given her father her word that she would fulfill his wish for her. But it had been at the height of his suffering, and she had hoped in some way it might ease his pain and maybe save his life. And in doing that, give her the release she needed for what she’d cost him when she was seven years old. She had always been rash, impulsive, and had acted before she gave due consideration for the consequences of what she was doing. That behavior must be her nature, because she was still prone to speak and act before she thought.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be simply divine if she married someone like that handsome Lord Bighampton?” Mae said as Sir Randolph walked away.

June gave her sister an odd look. “What are you speaking of, Mae? You know it matters not if he’s handsome, as long as he’s titled.”

“Yes, of course you are right, Sister, but Lord Bighampton just happens to be both.”

Sophia didn’t want her aunts to get into an argument, as they were prone to do at times, so she said, “Aunt June, could I trouble you to get me a cup of punch? I feel in need of a little refreshment before the next dance begins.”

“Why, of course, my dear. It’s no trouble at all.”

“I’ll go with you,” Mae said.

“You’ll do no such thing,” her sister admonished. “We can’t leave Sophia alone. What would people think if they saw her standing all by herself at her first ball?”

“Of course, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

June walked away, and Sophia looked at her aunt Mae. Her dark green eyes were still watching Lord Bighampton with great interest. “Are you all right, Auntie?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, quite,” she said without turning to look at Sophia. “I was just admiring how distinguished Lord Bighampton is. He’s the most handsome gentlemen I’ve ever seen.”

Sophia heard something that sounded like wistfulness in her aunt’s voice and saw a faraway look in her eyes. She wanted to dismiss those notions as ridiculous, but something stopped her. Sophia couldn’t remember ever seeing either of her aunts as contemplative as Mae was. And while the earl was not a horrible-looking man by any standards, Sophia didn’t consider him handsome. The stranger who’d helped her with the young lad came to mind. Now he was a handsome man.

Sophia smiled. “I do believe you are enchanted by the earl.”

Mae gasped and started fanning herself with her hand-painted fan. “Who? Me? Don’t be ridiculous. Certainly not.”

“Auntie, it’s all right if the man is pleasing to your eyes.”

“Well, of course, I know that. And he is. I think he will be a perfect match for you.”

“For me?” Sophia shook her head. “He is an earl, and I will consider him, but I’m not sure he would be the right person for me. You know, Auntie, he’s the perfect age for you.”

“Me?” Mae fanned herself faster. “What’s gotten into you, child? I’m way too old to make a match.”

“Nonsense. You can be too young to marry, but you cannot be too old.”

“I suppose that could be true if you’ve been married before. Widows often remarry, and more than once.” Her attention drifted back to Lord Bighampton. “But marriage is not for spinsters like me. I let my chance at marriage and a family pass me by, and now it’s too late for this dried weed on the shelf.”

The ring of wistfulness returned to her aunt’s voice, causing Sophia to say, “Oh, piffle. Who says it’s too late? Those old hens in Polite Society? The eager mamas who don’t care what they have to say or do to get their daughters vouchers for Almack’s? They don’t know everything.”

“Yes, they do. And besides, June wouldn’t like it either.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sophia argued. “She can’t tell you what to do, can she? You’re the oldest. You were born first, right?”

“Here’s your punch,” June said, walking up to Sophia and Mae. “And, yes, she was born first. Now, I just heard the music will start again shortly, Sophia, so drink up.”

Sophia took the punch cup and took a long sip.

“Sophia, please,” June said, “you might be famished, but we don’t want anyone seeing you drink as if you were a dock worker at a local tavern. Take small, ladylike sips.”

Her aunt continued to talk, but Sophia didn’t hear what she said. Over the rim of her punch cup she had caught sight of the gentleman who had tried to help her catch the boy thief. She slowly lowered her drink and stared at the man.

He was superbly dressed in an evening coat that fit perfectly over wide, straight shoulders. His shirt was stunningly white beneath a red quilted waistcoat, and his neckcloth was superbly tied. Black trousers covered strong-looking legs spread far enough apart to lend a touch of arrogance to his stance. Everything about him spoke of power, privilege, and wealth, and her body and her mind were completely aware of him.

She could tell that he was slowly searching the room and, for a heartbeat, she wondered if he might be looking for her.

Chance is always powerful. Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be fish.

—Ovid

Sophia’s breaths deepened. Her last sip of punch went down hard as she stared at the stranger. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approach her aunts and start talking to them, but she couldn’t take her gaze off the gentleman she’d met on the street. He was still slowly scouring the faces of everyone on the dance floor.

“Sophia.” June lightly touched her shoulder. “You were just presented to Lord Snellingly, my dear. What do you say?”

Quickly diverting her attention from the man she’d been watching, Sophia looked up to see a tall, thin man with a large, pointy nose smiling down at her. Her gaze was drawn to his collar and neckcloth. Both were unusually high, completely covering his neck and causing his head to tilt back. It looked woefully uncomfortable to Sophia, and she’d be surprised if the dear fellow could breathe properly.

She curtsied and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Snellingly.”

He returned her smile with an ear-to-ear grin. “No, no, Miss Hart, it is always a gentleman’s pleasure to be introduced to such a beautiful young lady as yourself.”

The earl moved so he was standing right in Sophia’s line of vision, so she stepped a little to one side, hoping to find the handsome stranger whom she could no longer see. Lord Snellingly moved too, and right in her line of sight again. “That’s very kind of you to say, my lord.”

“Your story is such a fascinating one.”

She studied on that comment for a moment and realized she had no idea what he was talking about. “In what way?”

“Well, everyone knows and respects Sir Randolph, and no one had a hint from him that he has been your guardian for over a year. He kept knowledge of you secreted away from us.”

“There was really no need for him to mention me. I couldn’t come out into Society until my mourning was past.”

His eyebrows lifted, and he laid a hand over his heart. “It’s never easy to lose a loved one, is it?”

“No, never,” she answered, not wanting to think about having lost her father or her mother.

“Tell me, Miss Hart, do you enjoy reading poetry?”

Sophia was surprised he went from one subject to the other so quickly, but answered, “Yes, of course, I read poetry.”

“Splendid.” He sniffed into the lace-trimmed handkerchief he held. “I’ve found it can be very comforting, no matter the troubles that tear at a tender heart. And tell me, do you write it?”

“I’m not very good at writing poetry, I’m afraid,” she said, moving a little to the left again in hopes of catching a glance of the stranger, but once again the earl moved when she did. “I do give it a try from time to time.”

“Excellent to hear.” His smile broadened, and he clasped his hands together in front of him. Layers of lace cuffs spread across his chest. “I am a member of the Royal Society of Accomplished Poets.”

“I’m sure that’s a great honor,” Sophia said.

“Indeed it is. I’m told I’m a dramatic poet. Perhaps I can stop by your house tomorrow afternoon and share some of my latest verse with you.”

“We would be honored for you to do so, Lord Snellingly,” Jane said, “but not tomorrow. Perhaps in a couple of days it will be fine. This is Sophia’s first ball, and we would like for her to attend one or two more before we start allowing gentlemen to call on her. You do understand, don’t you?”

“Yes. Quite the thing to do, Miss Shevington. I completely understand.”

“But we’re so pleased that you want to share your poetry with her,” Mae added. “I’m certain it’s truly inspiring.”

“Why, yes, Miss Shevington, it is,” Lord Snellingly said.

He turned his attention back to Sophia. “I’m also aware of a young ladies’ poetry society. I’m certain I can get you an invitation to join, if you would like to be considered.”

Writing poetry was not something Sophia wanted to do. In fact, it would be torture. She wanted to write business letters to Shevington’s suppliers and negotiate contracts for better terms on their shipping fees. But she kept all that to herself, smiled pleasantly, and said, “It’s certainly something I’ll ponder. Thank you, Lord Snellingly.”

“Miss Hart, the shade of your green eyes reminds me of a meadow that has just been washed by a spring rain.” The earl then turned to June. “With your permission, I’d like to claim a dance with Miss Hart later in the evening.”

“She will be delighted.”

“Good. Now I shall find a quiet corner and write a few lines of poetry just for you, Miss Hart.”

Finally Lord Snellingly smiled at Sophia, bowed, and walked away. Sophia immediately searched for the stranger. She wanted to talk to him but knew her aunts would never allow it unless someone introduced them, or unless she managed to get away from her aunts’ watchful eyes.

“Oh, Sophia,” Mae said, watching the earl walk away, “don’t you think he is divinely handsome? He’s so tall, so regal, and a poet too.”

Sophia had barely looked at the man. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a gentleman wear that much lace on his cuffs or one who thought so highly of his poetry. But not wanting to take issue with her aunt, she simply said, “Quite handsome.” She took a sip of her punch, and then added, “I think I’ll make a visit to the retiring room. Do excuse me.”

“I’ll go with you,” June said.

“Please, Auntie,” Sophia said, giving the empty cup to her. “Please allow me to at least do this one thing by myself. I remember how to get to the room, and with so many people here, I can assure you no harm will befall me before I can return safely to your side.”

June’s eyebrows rose disapprovingly. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone. Don’t you agree, Mae?”

“How can I be alone?” Sophia asked, frustration mounting. “There are more than two hundred people here.”

A wrinkle of concern creased Mae’s brow. “I suppose we could allow her to go alone once in a while. We don’t want to be accused of smothering her.” She turned to Sophia. “But do not allow any of the gentlemen you have met to entice you to take a walk in the garden with them.”

Excitement suddenly danced inside Sophia at the thought of having a few moments alone. “That is an easy promise to make.”

“Nor for a walk on the terrace, either,” June added.

“Another promise,” Sophia said and turned from her aunts before they could come up with another excuse or change their minds.

Sophia searched the faces for the gentleman as she slowly threaded her way through the people to the other side of the room. He had moved from the area where she’d last seen him. She reached the exit doorway and paused. Another slow perusal of the people told her he was nowhere to be found. She exited the noisy room, continuing to look for him even as she walked down the corridor, but it was as if he’d disappeared. Disappointment stung deep in her abdomen. She’d wanted to talk to him.

She made her way down the first long corridor that would, after a couple of turns, eventually lead her to the ladies’ retiring room at the back of the Great Hall. She turned another corner and felt someone ease up beside her.

Her pulse quickened in anticipation. She turned and saw it was the stranger.

“Sir,” she said softly. She stopped and inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. “I’ve been looking for you.”

A touch of a smile played at the corners of his mouth, making him even more handsome than she’d remembered. He was obviously pleased with her words, and her heart fluttered at the prospect.

“If that’s the case, I don’t know how you missed me. I’ve gone back to the square for the past several days, searching for you, hoping you would return. I’ve searched for you at all the parties I’ve attended this week.”

She smiled. “I meant I was looking for you tonight.”

“Good. I was beginning to think I had imagined you the other day and you weren’t real after all.”

His words made her feel good. Maybe he hadn’t been completely put off by her rash behavior that afternoon. He lifted his chin a notch, and she looked into intriguing dark blue eyes. They had the power to hold her motionless. Suddenly she felt uncharacteristically flushed and out of breath.

“My aunts won’t allow me to return to the square. They now deem that street unsafe and refused to accompany me there.”

He cocked his head back and laughed quietly. “Don’t they know that footpads and urchins can show up on any street?”

“I tried that argument and several others. None of them worked. This is the first party I’ve attended since we arrived in London. I wanted to see you and apologize for my behavior in that square,” she said softly. “I know you were trying to help. I just didn’t want to believe that the lad had gotten away.”

“It’s understandable.” He nodded. “Being robbed would upset anyone.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t excuse my desperate attempt to look at the faces of every lad in the square or to blame you for the boy’s theft. I would have sent you a note to thank you for helping me, but I didn’t know your name.”

“Do you know it now, Sophia?”

“No, how could I? But you know mine.”

He nodded. “And your aunts’, Mae and June, from our conversations on the street.”

“That’s right. You heard them call me Sophia, and I, of course, said their names.”

“How long have you been in Town, Sophia?”

Her pulse jumped again. She loved hearing the whispery way her name wafted past his lips. It was especially provocative, because he should never be so forward as to use her first name.

“A month,” she answered.

“I find it refreshing that you’ve been in Town more than a fortnight and you don’t know who I am.”

She gave him a curious smile. “That must mean you are a very important gentleman, if you expected that I should know who you are.”

His gaze swept up and down her face, causing her skin to prickle deliciously. Sophia felt her breath catch again. She realized she was staring at his lips with what could only be described as desire for him filling her. When had she ever looked at a man’s lips and wondered what it would be like to have them brush across hers?

She sensed that same powerful strength in him that she felt at their first meeting, and it drew her. Clearly he wasn’t going to admit to anything about what kind of man he was, and she liked that about him too. She was drawn to this stranger in a way that was exciting, and yet, a little frightening, too.

“Your silence tells me that you must be the most talked-about rogue in London.”

A teasing grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “Would you be horrified if that were true?”

Sophia’s abdomen quivered deliciously, and she found herself wondering how his lips would feel against hers. “No, but I don’t know that I would believe it.”

“Then I’ll leave you to find out anything you may want to know about me.”

“I never back away from a challenge.”

“I like that. I’m glad I issued one.”

He was clever, and that pleased her. “Tell me, on your trips back to the square, have you seen anything of the lad?”

“No. What have you heard from the authorities?”

She shook her head. “I’ve heard only excuses and platitudes about how diligently they are working to recover my brooch. I still can’t believe I thought he was a hungry little boy, when he was a crafty little pickpocket.”

“He probably
was
hungry, and we were both fooled by his innocent manner.”

His words were sincere, and she appreciated them. “I haven’t given up hope I’ll find him and the brooch.”

“There’s no reason ever to give up hope.”

She gave him a grateful smile. “I am glad you are out searching for him each day. I would be helping you if I could manage to slip away from my aunts.”

He smiled and leaned in a fraction toward her. “I take it you aren’t spoken for.”

Pleasant warmth tingled across her breasts, alerting all her senses. His implication was clear, and it made her knees weak. “No,” she said quickly, and then realized she might have sounded a little too eager, so she added, “Are you?”

He shook his head. “I was thinking that you must be related to the King to have two such stern chaperones watching your every move.”

She laughed lightly. “My aunts take their responsibility a little too seriously.”

He stepped closer to her. “Perhaps they have reason to. I can assure you every eligible gentleman in the ballroom tonight has his sights on you.”

“I do seem to be an oddity tonight.”

His eyes softened. “I would not characterize you as an oddity, Sophia.”

He moved even closer to her, and warning bells sounded in her head. They were standing in a dimly lit corridor. Anyone could happen upon them at any moment and accuse them of planning a rendezvous, but not even the possibility of scandal caused her to step away from him.

“I think your aunts are acting like guards because they are afraid a handsome young gentleman might try to steal a kiss from you.”

Her breaths came more quickly. “I believe that is exactly what frightens them.”

“Does a stolen kiss in a darkened corridor frighten you?”

Did
it?

She swallowed as her gaze swept down the passageway behind him. He reached up and let the backs of his fingers lightly caress her cheek, drawing her gaze back to his. Her chest felt heavy. Her lips parted slowly. Short, choppy breaths clogged in her throat.

“Is that fear I see in your eyes?”

She raised her chin. “No,” she whispered, relaxing. “I have no fear of being kissed, only of getting caught.”

He chuckled so softly she might have missed it had she not been so attuned to his every breath.

“That is not what I expected you to say.”

“It is the truth. I’ve often dreamt of being kissed by a handsome stranger.”

He gave her an almost imperceptible smile. “You’ve dreamed of it? Then let me make your dream come true.”

Sophia’s heartbeat quickened. Should she let this man be the first to kiss her? “Yes,” she heard herself whisper.

He placed his hands under her chin and tilted her head up. She caught the invigoratingly clean scent of shaving soap on his fingertips. Slowly, he bent his head. She parted her lips slightly, and he gently pressed his lips to hers. It was barely a touch, really just a teasing brush of his soft, moist lips against hers, but enough that her insides went warm with yearning for more. A delicate fluttering started in her chest.