Laura Lee Guhrke (18 page)

“Stupid,” he muttered, shaking his head, staring at her as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened. “I must be the stupidest bastard in the entire country.”

She didn’t know what he meant. She couldn’t sense his thoughts or feelings. In fact, she couldn’t seem to think at all.

“Don’t wear that perfume around me anymore,” he said curtly, turned, and was gone. Sophie stared at the opening between the urns, the tips of her fingers pressed to her mouth, as his footsteps on the tile faded away and she was alone.

Now she understood what it meant to want a man, to want his kiss, his touch. To need that heat and feel that desperation. Mick had shown her all that, ignited something in her that had not been there before, and she knew she would never be able to hate him again.

Nine
 

During the two weeks that followed, Sophie saw little of Mick, and she didn’t know whether to be glad of it or not.

She knew he wanted her, but men wanted women all the time. That meant nothing. It was her own behavior that night in the conservatory that shocked her. The way she had responded to him, the way she had clung to him, with some undefinable, aching need for his touch was nothing short of wanton. She hardly knew him, she wasn’t sure she even liked him, yet she had returned his kiss with a passion she had never felt before.

Violet asked her how on earth they were supposed to watch over Mick and protect him if he was never there, and in response, Sophie reassured her aunt that if Inspector Dunbar was in imminent danger, she would know.

That wasn’t a lie. The few times she had seen him during the past two weeks, she had also been able to see his aura. If it disappeared again, she would know to take action to protect him, but until then, she knew he was safe.

Her worry that he would browbeat and interrogate all her friends and acquaintances proved to be somewhat exaggerated. He did ask people she knew about her, but never by revealing that he was a detective making inquiries. He seemed to be giving people the impression that he was interested in Sophie in a romantic way, which shocked those of her acquaintance who were snobs, and intrigued those who were not. Sophie was not flattered. He might desire her, but he still suspected her to be involved with a criminal. She also sensed that Mick was a man for whom women were like dessert, a delicious treat to be enjoyed and soon forgotten.

Fortunately, she had little time to dwell on it. The campaign to find Sophie a suitable husband had begun the day after Agatha’s arrival with a trip to dressmakers in Regent Street for a new wardrobe. Though Sophie fought to prevent it, she was fitted for an entirely new wardrobe, bought for her with Harold’s money, a fact Charlotte would bring up for the rest of their lives. Once Sophie had suitable clothes, the social whirl began. Sophie was dragged to card parties, teas, cotillions, balls, and so many other events that she lost count.

Balls were the worst, since she was so bad at dancing. All the lessons in the world couldn’t stop her from feeling like a stiff and awkward mannequin every time
she walked onto a ballroom floor. She made excuses to refuse at every opportunity, and a fight with her mother always ensued afterward. She knew the only way to defeat Mama was outright defiance, but Agatha was a difficult person to defy.

By the time they joined Victor and Katherine in Berkshire for Ascot week, Sophie was exhausted from the struggle.

Ascot was always a grand occasion, even more so this year because of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. The gentlemen were on their best behavior, and careful not to become too intoxicated. Ladies wore their most fashionable new hats and gowns. Sophie was now as suitably attired as the rest, but she had never paid much attention to fashion and really didn’t care.

Mick was waiting for them by the Grand Stand when they arrived at the racecourse for the opening day.

Even Charlotte could not have found fault with the way he looked. He was impeccably dressed for Ascot in a pearl gray suit, white shirt and white waistcoat, and gray felt homburg hat.

Violet greeted him warmly and introduced him to the other members of the family. With the exception of Lord Fortescue, there was no mistaking the coolness of their greeting. Victor was the only one besides Auntie who didn’t seem to hate the idea of having him there.

Violet, however, did not seem to sense the tension in the air. She talked with Mick as if it were nothing out of the ordinary to bring a policeman along to Ascot,
but Sophie knew differently. The other women were horrified. Harold was afraid.

She remained a few feet away from the group, watching. Mick didn’t seem to mind their antagonism, and received their frigidly polite greetings with the ease of any gentleman.

After the introductions, he turned to Victor. “My lord, thank you for the invitation to join you here. Which do you favor as the winner of the Ascot Stakes today? I predict Masque II.”

There was nothing of the snob about Victor. The viscount beamed on the younger man as if he’d just found a kindred spirit. “Masque II is my choice, as well. Clearly has the best chance all around.” He put a hand on Mick’s shoulder. “Glad to have a man along who knows racing. Did you arrive this morning?”

“I did. I forwarded my things on to your estate as your cousin, Mrs. Summerstreet, instructed.” He turned to Katherine. “Viscountess Fortescue, I believe you and I have a connection, of sorts.”

Katherine did not seem impressed. “Indeed? What connection is that?”

Sophie watched Mick reach into his pocket with his free hand, and she tensed as he pulled out Katherine’s emerald necklace. He picked up the viscountess’s hand and placed the string of jewels in her palm. “This, I believe, belongs to you.”

“Indeed, yes, it does!” She took it, and some of her coldness faded away. “Look, Fortescue,” she cried in amazement. “My emeralds have been recovered.”

Victor glanced at them, then at Mick, and Sophie
sensed his favorable impression growing, “I never thought the police would recover them.”

“Why, it’s unaccountable,” the viscountess added, “However did you find them, Inspector?”

“In a most unexpected way.” As he spoke with Katherine, Sophie noticed he continued to hold the viscountess’s hand in his. Katherine was even allowing it.

“What is all this about your necklace?” Agatha demanded. “Katherine, you went to the police?”

The viscountess managed to tear her gaze from Mick’s, and she withdrew her hand from his. “I did, Agatha. I discovered my favorite necklace was missing, and I contacted Scotland Yard at once.”

Agatha gave a disapproving sniff, but Katherine was delighted by the results of what some, including Sophie’s mother, would consider to be an inappropriate action. She returned her attention to Mick and actually began a conversation with him. “Have you been to Ascot before, Inspector?”

“Yes, indeed, my lady, many times. When I worked at Special Branch, I was twice assigned to stand with other officers as guard during the royal procession, and I have also come solely for the pleasure of the races.”

“You must tell me how you recovered my emeralds,” Katherine said, and it was clear her frigid demeanor toward Mick had thawed completely. “Tell us all.”

The entire party turned their attention to him, and Sophie’s stomach twisted into knots as she watched him, wondering what he would say.

“I’m afraid neither I nor Scotland Yard can claim credit here, my lady. They were anonymously sent to the Lost Property Department.”

Sophie laughed under her breath. What a perfect story. No long explanations, no inconvenient questions. “What a fortunate circumstance,” she murmured, causing Mick to glance in her direction. He turned that smile of his on her, and Sophie couldn’t help thinking of what had happened that night in the conservatory a fortnight ago. Mick was thinking of it, too. She looked into his face, and she knew. She forced her gaze away.

“It’s extraordinary,” Katherine was saying. “I wonder who sent them to Scotland Yard. This shows there are some honest people in the world.”

“I’m happy the emeralds are recovered, of course,” Agatha put in, “but going to the police is going rather too far, don’t you think?”

“Victor didn’t mind.”

“Going to the police is the only thing to do,” Lord Fortescue put in. “What arc they there for, in heaven’s name?”

“Still,” Charlotte put in, “it must have been a difficult dilemma for you, my dear cousin.”

“Not at all.” Katherine shrugged her slim shoulders. “If I hadn’t gone to the police, I might never have recovered them. The men at Scotland Yard wouldn’t have known where to return them.”

Agatha dismissed the whole matter with a wave of her hand, and conversation turned to the day’s races. Mick moved to Sophie’s side.

“Thank you for what you just did,” she murmured.
“For your tact and for your discretion. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

He edged closer to her. “Prove it.”

Sophie looked at him, and something in those two words sent an inexplicable thrill through her, a shot of pleasure and trepidation. The pirate’s thrill. “How—” She stopped, words suddenly caught in her throat. He had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, lighter around the pupils, like the sky, then darkening to thin rings of deep lapis around his irises. She swallowed, tried again. “Prove it how?”

“Answer the question I asked you in the garden.”

She felt the remembered brush of rose petals beneath her chin.

Is
it a lover you’re protecting?

“I don’t have a lover,” she whispered and felt herself leaning closer to him. Her hand fluttered in the air. She wanted so badly to touch him, to feel the hard wall of his chest beneath her fingers.

“Michael?”

Violet’s voice broke in, and Sophie straightened away from him with a jerking motion. Lord, she was surrounded by a crowd of people, and she’d almost put her hands on him. Sophie took a step back and bit her lip, her heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Mick turned his attention to Violet, who had now joined them. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Dear boy, I must speak with you.” Violet put a hand on his arm, and Sophie felt a flash of envy. She clasped her hands behind her back. “I must thank you for your kindness to me.”

His expression became stern, but Sophie thought there was a hint of humor in his eyes. “I’m going to tell you again, Violet, no more jewel thefts,” he murmured, his voice low. “Detectives receive rewards for arrests, and there are other members of the Metropolitan Police who wouldn’t have any compunction about sending you off to prison for a pound or two of reward money. And if you steal something from someone who is willing to prosecute, you’ll be in serious trouble.”

“Mick is right, Auntie,” Sophie whispered. “You were very fortunate this time. In future, you must try to control yourself.”

“I’ll try, my dear,” Violet pledged, crossing her heart. “Honestly.”

Sophie looked into her dear aunt’s face and could detect little sign of penitence. She sighed. Mick chuckled. “Violet, I believe you are the most adorable criminal I’ve ever met.”

“Why, thank you, Michael. I will take that as a compliment.”

“What are the three of you whispering about over there?” Agatha called out to them in a tone that demanded an answer.

Violet turned in her sister’s direction. “Dear Michael was telling us some fascinating stories.”

“About crime and vice, no doubt,” Agatha said with a shudder.

Violet moved to rejoin her sister and the others. “Actually, no, dear,” she told Agatha, “Michael was telling us about some of the important and fascinating people he’s met over the years. Do you know, he actually knows the Duke of Ethridge?” She turned
to Victor. “Cousin, tell us what is happening in Parliament.”

Victor, a vehement Whig, began a heated dissertation on the most recent antics of the Tories, which were ridiculous, and the campaign of the Labor Party, which was impossible to take seriously. Harold joined in the discussion, and the ladies listened politely, pretending to be interested.

Sophie returned her attention to Mick. “How does she know that you know the Duke of Ethridge?”

“I haven’t a clue. I’ve never met the man in my life.”

She laughed. “Dear Auntie. She likes you, you see, so she is trying to impress the others with your connections, even if she has to make them up.”

“I arrested Sir Roger Ellerton, son of Lord Chadwick, not long ago. Does that count?”

“I don’t think so. Why on earth did you arrest Sir Roger?”

“For drunkenness, being a public nuisance, and striking a police officer.”

“Ah, the black eye. I was right, then.”

“Yes, you were. Good guess.”

“It wasn’t a guess,” Sophie assured him. “I knew it because I saw it happen.”

“I didn’t know you were in the Cannon Row Police Station when Sir Roger hit me.”

“I saw it in my mind. You know perfectly well what I meant.”

Agatha’s voice interrupted before Mick could reply. “Sophie, dear, come over here. I have some exciting news.”

“Yes, Mother?” She moved to join the others, and
Mick followed her. “What exciting news?” she asked.

“Lord Heath is in residence at Crossroads, and they have invited us to a card party after the races today.”