One Night Scandal (8 page)
Sophie smiled. “I assure you I know exactly what they want from me.”
Lady Cantwell reached over and grabbed Sophie’s hand with her own gnarled hand. She gave it a little squeeze. “Hold out for marriage, my dear. There will be a man who shan’t care about your background.”
“Are you now the fortune teller?”
“No, my dear. I just know that your beauty and kindness will win over some young man.” Lady Cantwell squeezed Sophie’s hand again. “Now, tell me about this new love in my life.”
Sophie cleared her mind and closed her eyes. The usual dizziness swept over her and then nothing happened. The blackness never cleared. Oh, dear God, she really was losing her abilities!
“Well?” Lady Cantwell asked.
“I am not sure today. Nothing is coming to me.” Sophie opened her eyes and looked at Lady Cantwell. “Are you certain you are not withholding something?”
“Not at all.”
“Very well, let’s try again.” Sophie closed her eyes and still, nothing came to her. Why was this happening to her now? Ever since hitting her head in Venice her abilities have been acting odd.
Sophie opened her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lady Cantwell. I seem to be having difficulties reading you today.”
The older woman shrugged. “Perhaps I should come back in a day or two.”
“Yes, that might be the best thing for both of us.”
As Lady Cantwell left, Sophie immediately started writing a letter to the only person who might be able to help her. Once finished with the letter to her mother, she sat at her desk checking her appointments for the day when her footman arrived at her study with another large arrangement of roses. She rolled her eyes. “Another one?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Who this time?”
He pulled out a small note and handed it to her.
She laughed softly. “Riverdale again. I do hope this doesn’t mean they will continue to send me flowers until I see them.”
“There will be no room left in the house if they do, ma’am. Where would you like these?”
“I have no idea. I’m running out of room.” She glanced about her study, which already had two bouquets on tables near the sofa. “Place those in the receiving salon.”
“There are already two in there.”
“Well, there will have to be three now.” The past two days had been a steady stream of flower deliveries to her house. All six of the men she had been introduced to at the opera had sent some large arrangement. Several had attempted to call on her, too. So far she’d sent them all away without receiving any of them.
Hearing Hendricks’s slow heavy footsteps, she realized she would be denying callers all day again.
“Ma’am, Lord Ancroft is here to see you,” he announced.
Sophie chewed her lower lip. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the opera. While she missed him dreadfully, she’d spent the time pondering what to do about him. Already, he was coming to mean more to her than he should. And that scared her.
“Ma’am? Lord Ancroft?”
“Yes, send him in.”
As Hendricks ambled down the hall, she wondered if this was the right decision. Her emotions were muddling her mind lately. But one thing she knew, she wasn’t ready to give him up yet. Just the sound of his footsteps increased the beat of her heart.
He walked in and observed the flowers in the room. “Just how many damned arrangements have you been sent?”
She smiled slightly hearing the jealous tone of his voice. “I’m now up to seven. Unless you brought a bouquet with you, then it’s eight.”
His cheeks flushed. “I am sorry to say I did not bring you flowers this afternoon. Although, if I had, I doubt you would be able to even find them.”
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said with a laugh. “You have nothing to be jealous over. I know exactly why they are attempting to court me.”
“Do you?” he said, with his hands on his hips.
She walked toward him with a grin. “Yes, I do.” She stepped closer until they were all but touching. “I have no desire to be any man’s mistress. They are wasting their time and money attempting to get into my good graces.”
“So,” he drawled. “How does a man get into your good graces?”
“Hmm,” she said, skimming her finger down his waistcoat. “First, by not sending me roses because they make me sneeze.”
“Well, that is one point in my favor. I have never sent you roses. Any other ideas?”
She unbuttoned his waistcoat. “Not writing me romantic poems. They are usually most dreadfully written.”
“I shall never endeavor to do such a thing.”
“Good.” She looked into his amber eyes and didn’t care about her appointments for today. The only thing that mattered was Nicholas.
“Any other thoughts?”
She smiled up at him. “Knowing when to kiss me.”
He returned her smile. “I think I already have managed to figure that out.” He pulled her into his arms and brought his lips down hard on hers.
The man was definitely starting to know her too well, Sophie thought.
Chapter 8
Nicholas walked up the steps to his father’s home in Grosvenor Square with dread. The only time his father requested his presence was to call him on the carpet for some inappropriate action. Nicholas smiled, remembering the last time involved an actress who thought a night with him meant marriage. She had made a terrible scene and his father had paid the girl off. Nicholas could have done the same but thought she deserved nothing for her tasteless demeanor.
He hoped this had nothing to do with Sophie. While she wasn’t his mistress in the most technical meaning of the word, she was his lover. His father might not care for his son taking a woman who professed to be the daughter of an earl.
Then again, Nicholas didn’t care. His father had never loved him. His only concern was how Nicholas acted and portrayed himself. The duke wanted Nicholas to be the perfect heir and future duke.
“Good morning, sir,” Baker said as he opened the door. “Your father is in his study, expecting you.”
“Very good, Baker.” Nicholas had deliberately kept his father waiting for over an hour. It was far past time for his father to realize he was an adult now and would not cater to his every whim.
He walked down the gray marble hall, reminiscing on running down this same hall with his brother Simon. Nicholas grimaced as he thought about his younger brother. Simon would have been twenty-seven this year. Except the smallpox outbreak that took his life when he was only ten. Nicholas had been at Eaton at the time, surrounded by boys so he couldn’t even mourn the loss of his best friend and brother.
God, he was in a morbid mood this morning. He hadn’t seen Sophie in almost a week and it was driving him mad. He’d tried calling on her several times, only to be told she was not at home. An excuse he scarcely believed. He wondered if he should attempt to propose to her. While the thought of marriage normally filled him with gloom, the idea of Sophie as his wife lightened his heart. But he doubted she would agree. She’d clearly stated there would be no talk of marriage or love.
He approached the study and stopped at the doorway. His father had not heard his footsteps so his head was still bent down as he worked on papers. Nicholas took the moment to really look at his father. He hadn’t seen him in months. His father’s hair had gone completely white now, but that wasn’t so unusual for a man nearing seventy years. Nonetheless, he appeared older and a bit frailer than the last time Nicholas had seen him.
Nicholas cleared his throat. Piercing blue eyes glared over at him.
“About damned time you arrived,” his father grumbled.
“Ten is awfully early to make calls.”
“Not when your father makes the request. Now sit,” he said, pointing to the chair on the opposite side of the desk.
“What is this about? Have I made another blunder you wish to rail at me for?”
His father shuffled through papers and then put his quill away. “No, for once you have not. At least not that I am aware of yet. How was your trip?”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. His father would never request his presence to have a tête-à-tête about his travels. Could he have heard about his affair with Sophie? “My trip was wonderful, Venice in particular.”
His father curled up his lip. “I went to Venice once. It was nothing but stinking canals and lascivious parties. Dreadful place.”
“What did you call me here for?”
“Very well, we shall dispense with the pleasantries. My doctor says I may have a year to live at most. Therefore, I have decided that you will marry this Season.”
“Indeed? A year, you say?” Nicholas felt only a spark of regret that his father’s life would be shortened. His father had never shown him anything but discipline. He had even berated Nicholas for bringing Emma into Nicholas’s house and had never met his only grandchild.
“Yes. That should please you since you will then inherit. However, knowing your taste in women, I have decided that your marriage must take place before I . . .”
“I see,” Nicholas said, gripping the arms of his chair. He would never let his father choose a woman for him. His father would pick a woman based on her social standing, just as he had picked his wives. Two had been spiteful women who only wanted him for his title and money. He had no idea about his own mother, as she died giving birth to Simon.
His father lifted a paper from the table and handed it to him. “Here is a list of young ladies I deem acceptable.”
“And why would I agree to this? If, as you say, you only have a year, then I shall inherit and be able to make the decision myself.”
“You shall inherit the title and the entailed lands. But the fortune I have generated will go to charities if I do not approve of the woman before I pass.”
Nicholas tightened his jaw as he stared at the list of names. He had no intention of marrying any of them but for the moment he would humor his father. “Does the woman have to be on this list?”
“No. These are ladies I already approved of, thus making your decision easier. Should you decide on another, then you will inform me and I shall investigate her background.”
“Would the daughter of an earl do?”
“I would be most pleased to have the daughter of an earl become the next duchess. Assuming she has no scandals attached to her name. She would already understand her duties.” His father’s white brows furrowed. “Are you currently courting such a woman? I have not been made aware of this change from your usual course of women.”
Nicholas smiled. “Possibly courting. I have not officially started the process.” But he knew just the woman.
“Lord Ancroft is here to see you, ma’am,” Hendricks said from the doorway to her study.
Sophie glanced up from her reading and frowned. “Tell him I am not at home, Hendricks.”
“Oh, but that would be such a dreadful lie,” a deep voice replied from the hall.
Damn him! “Let the cur in, Hendricks.”
Hendricks moved out of the doorway only to be quickly replaced by Nicholas. He leaned his tall form against the doorframe in a manner that appeared totally relaxed, but she sensed the tension running through his veins. And for once, it didn’t seem to be tension of a sexual manner.
“You wound me, my lady,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “A cur? You called me a cur?”
“Yes, well now you know so you may leave,” she said, waving her hand at him in dismissal.
“But I cannot.” He walked into the room, closing the door behind him.
“I believe you should open the door. I would not like my reputation ruined at your hands.”
“Not just yet.” He strolled closer to her in a casual manner, but she could sense his frustration. “Why have you been ignoring me?”
She smiled up at him. “Did you forget already that I am not your mistress? I do not have to abide by your demands to call on me when I am not in the mood for company.”
“You are right, of course. However, common courtesy suggests you might have written me a note to that effect.”
Seeing the look of anger in his eyes, she knew she should have done just that. Or at least, let him in so she could be truthful with him. “I’m sorry, Nicholas. You are right, that was dreadfully rude of me. I should have at least sent you a note.”
“Or informed me in person.” He closed the distance between them and pulled her closer to him. “What is really wrong?”
She looked away from him. There was just so much wrong with their situation. She’d spent the week analyzing her feelings for him. The affection she felt for him was swiftly becoming far too much for her to ignore. “This idea that we can be lovers and keep our feelings out of it might be harder than I realized,” she admitted softly.
“Indeed?” He brought his lips down to her ear and kissed the outer shell. “I tried to tell you that.”
And he had. But she hadn’t believed him. “That is why I believe it might be best if we didn’t see each other any longer.”
He raised his head and stared down at her with a bemused look. “Because you might actually feel something for me, it is best to stay apart? That makes no sense at all.”
“Yes, it does.” She drew away from him and sat back down.
“How so?”
Sophie glanced down at her shoes, afraid if she met his gaze, she would never be able to continue. “This way neither of us gets hurt.”
He sighed. “If you already believe you might have feelings for me, then one of us is bound to get hurt.”
“I understand that. But at some point you will need to marry.” She glanced away from him. “I am not certain I can stand by and watch that.” And watch him desert her. “Perhaps you should leave now.”
“Not until after I have said what I came here for.”
“Go on, then.”
He dropped to his knee. He clasped her hand in his, and said, “Sophie, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
She gasped. “You cannot be serious! We barely know each other! The majority of the time we have spent together has been . . .”
“Well spent,” he interjected.
“I might disagree.”
He smiled up at her, which started her heart fluttering. “And yet, in that time, I have taken your innocence and ravished your body.”
She closed her eyes in an attempt to sense what had caused Nicholas’s sudden proposal. With his emotions running so close to the surface, for once, she had no difficulties determining his reasons. Her lips lifted into a smile. “Nicholas, I know why you are proposing.”
“Dammit, Sophie. I want to marry
you
.”
you
.”
“No.” Sophie pulled her hand out of his grip. “Your father wants you to marry. I already told you that I will never marry a man who loves another.”
Nicholas rose and then looked down at her. “There is more to this than my love of Jennette. I know she is married, Sophie. I know she will never love me other than as a friend. I am starting to accept that. If you are as good a medium as you say, then you already know those things. So, what is the real reason you won’t marry me?”
Sophie stood so they were only inches apart. “I do not even know you, Nicholas.”
“You know me better than most people.”
“But that is not enough for marriage!” she exclaimed.
“Then get to know me. Let me court you properly.”
“No, it is not possible.”
“Why?”
Sophie brushed his shoulder with hers as she walked away from him. She didn’t want to hurt him but she knew of no other way to dissuade him. “You are not the one,” she whispered, staring into the fireplace.
“What are you talking about?”
“I have matched many people during the past five years, including some of our mutual friends. I knew they were right for each other. I saw them together.” She turned back around and faced him with tears welling in her eyes. “I saw us together only that one night in Venice, Nicholas. Not once since. I think I may have misinterpreted my vision that night.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I think I was only supposed to spend the one night with you. We were to be lovers, not husband and wife. I am not the one for you. And you are not the one for me.”
He picked up the book on the table next to her chair and hurled it across the room. “Dammit, Sophie. I don’t accept that.”
“It’s true, Nicholas. We might be incredible lovers, but we are not meant to be each other’s
true
love.”
true
love.”
“I am not certain there is such a thing for me,” he muttered, walking toward the book he’d thrown. He picked it up and looked down at the cover. “I apologize for throwing your book.”
Sophie breathed in deeply. “I accept your apology, but I believe you should leave now.”
“Sophie,” he said softly. “This is not over.”
“Good day, Lord Ancroft.”
“Good day, Miss Reynard.” He walked toward the door without a glance backward.
She didn’t want him to leave angry. There had to be a way to make him stay longer. If only so she might stare at his handsome face and dream about the wonderful nights she’d had with him. “Nicholas, I might be able to help you.”
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