The Accidental Mistress (4 page)

No
, Sophie thought grimly,
he doesn’t care for Alice at all
…

There came a soft knock at the door and she swung around, heart hammering. She walked across to it slowly, then hesitated. ‘Who is it?’

‘Mrs. Chambers. I’ve come to make up your fire for you.’

Relief coursed through Sophie. Mrs. Chambers might not have a very high opinion of her but the woman exuded solid good sense which was exactly what Sophie needed. She opened the door and stood back. The housekeeper was carrying a dress over her arm. She gave Sophie another searching look and the girl offered an apologetic smile.

‘I’m sorry. It seems I’ve slept the day away.’

‘So you have, Miss. You must be hungry.’ The woman came in, laying the dress on the bed before she bustled over to the fire. ‘His lordship’s compliments, Miss. He asks that you join him downstairs for dinner. I’ve brought a dress along that his lordship thought you might care for.’ There was something in Mrs. Chamber’s voice that indicated
she
didn’t care for it at all.

Sophie looked at the dress on the bed, walking across to hold it up. It was clearly expensive and just as clearly unsuitable for dining with a man unchaperoned. The low cut, pale green silk with white sarcenet lining was quite beautiful but its very fineness would reveal more than it would conceal. Sophie knew that some young ladies – very daring young ladies – favored such dresses but she flushed as she held it up. No female with any sensibility would wear such a gown. Not unless she were a certain
kind
of female. It was accompanied by narrow satin pumps, a woolen shawl to ward off the chill and a pair of stockings of such fineness that they seemed to float through the air like gossamer. Sophie looked at it all, before dropping the dress in disgust.

I think not, my lord
…

A maid arrived, carrying an ewer of warm water, which she poured into a basin. Sophie caught the girl’s quick, curious look and sighed. Obviously Roxburghe brought his ladyloves to his country estate on a frequent basis and just as obviously, his servants believed she was his latest interest. It was unpleasant but, as she was unlikely to ever see any of them again, Sophie was pleased to ignore it. The sooner she put the place behind her, the better it would be.

After several minutes she was alone again, the fire having been made up in the grate and now burning cheerfully. Instead of changing, she tidied her dark brown hair in front of the mirror, brushing it out so that it fell in heavy waves around her shoulders and left her serviceable blue wool on. It’s high neck helped to conceal the bruises that had formed around her neck, compliments of his lordships too ready temper.

She stared at her reflection ruefully. Nothing had gone according to plan but with any luck she would be able to persuade her host to return her to London on the morrow. By now he must have realized the entire thing was foolish. And he would undoubtedly be just as eager to be rid of her as she was to go. It had been a perilous undertaking but at least Sophie had the satisfaction of knowing that Roxburghe would not trouble Alice any longer.

Standing up, she shook out the skirt of her dress, squared her shoulders and prepared to beard the lion in his den…

Curse all women
, Dev reflected sourly, pouring himself another glass of claret. What kind of world made creatures that could be so fair of face and yet possess such black and cunning hearts? By their very nature, women were meant to be tamed, to be possessed and then put aside before they could do any real damage.

Dev had given his heart once, years before and it had not ended well. He had no intention of ever making that mistake again, which was why he pursued foolish girls like Alice, so sure of their charms that they gave themselves freely. He knew they expected something in return. But he never promised them anything other than what he could deliver.

He still had a steady hand and knew that, if he spoke, he would be lucid enough but he had indulged in a great deal of wine since he had started drinking several hours before and he was forced to admit, he was well under the weather. Not that it would impair his plans for the evening ahead. Anger had clouded his reason after he had discovered the woman he had taken from Half Moon Street was not Alice Gaskell. So extreme was that anger that he had no very clear idea of what the creature he had brought with him actually looked like, but he was sure he would have remembered if she had been
too
hideous. He thought, briefly, of how he had reacted, reaching out for the girl’s throat. The memory of how that warm, slender column had felt beneath his hands had driven him to the bottle earlier, shame and anger pushing him on.

Now, he had convinced himself that she had deserved the rough treatment he had meted out. She was clearly no better than her rapacious cousin. Perhaps, he thought savagely, she had hoped to land him herself.

Well, if she pleased him, he was prepared to reward her in exactly the same way he had been going to reward Alice.

An unpleasant smile curved his mouth as he thought of the night ahead. The girl had made her bed and now she must lie in it or, more precisely, she must lie with
him
for he intended to extract something from this waste of his time. Dev disliked being duped and the knowledge that he had been taken for a complete fool by a couple of shameless harpies burned like fire. The girl upstairs would learn to her cost that it was a mistake to play games with Roxburgh. He raised his glass, draining it while the servants moved around the room at his back silently as they laid the table. They recognized that he was in a temper and were determined not draw his fire until he’d recovered.

He was also aware of the fact that Mrs. Chambers was not happy with him; she’d made her disapproval quite clear even though she hadn’t said a word. In the past she had always seemed philosophical about his various amours but there was something about this particular adventure that met with her disapproval.

Dev took another long draught. To hell with Mrs. Chambers. To hell with all women who delighted in making fools of men.

He did not give a toss about any of them!

Making her way downstairs, Sophie had nothing to guide her but the clink of crockery and she followed the sound into a candlelit dining room. A serving girl came scurrying through a doorway, nodding to her nervously as she passed and Sophie smiled.

Roxburghe was in front of the fire, staring down into the flames moodily, one arm resting on the mantle, a booted foot on the fender. He wore no coat, just a white shirt and a waistcoat which she saw was unbuttoned when he swung around to face her, sensing her presence. Straightening up, she saw the beginnings of a frown.

Sophie hesitated for a moment, noting with dismay that he had been drinking. She walked forward slowly. Her own limited experience had taught her just how difficult a man could be if he was in his cups and the last thing she needed was Roxburghe in a contrary mood. And by the look of those faintly flushed cheeks and the glitter in his dark eyes, that was precisely what he was. Contrary.

Coming to a stop several feet from him, she dropped a swift curtsey. For a long moment Roxburghe studied her, frowning a little, then the frown disappeared and a slow smile took its place. Sophie observed it with alarm. Under the circumstances, she preferred the frown. ‘I supposed I was comparing you to your cousin which must necessarily be unfavorable. Alice is a diamond of the first water, no doubt. But I see now that, while you’re no beauty, you’re face is quite passable while your body…’ his eyes ran down the length of her, ‘Well, even in that drab thing it is most appealing.’

Sophie flushed. ‘Why thank you. What a pretty compliment!’

Never before had a man said such a thing to her but the circumstances
were
extraordinary. She needed to stay calm – especially now that she knew he was drunk, for surely only a man who was highly intoxicated would talk to a lady in such a fashion – and ask that he return her back to London in the morning.

Roxburghe dropped into a chair and gave her a lazy grin. ‘Come over here and sit on my knee. I think we should get to know each other better. What’s your name?’

‘Sophie, my Lord.’ Sophie walked forward but she sat in the chair opposite, perching on the edge, well out of his reach. The dark eyes took note, watching her with a hectic light.
How much has he had
, she wondered anxiously. Perhaps it would have been better to have remained in her room. She could have asked the housekeeper to bring her something on a tray. It was a bit late for that now, however. She had the feeling Roxburghe would object if she attempted to retreat and the last thing she wanted was to make a scene.

‘Well… Sophie. You’ve come as a surprise but I daresay we can muddle along quite well together.’ Once again, his eyes swept over her insolently. ‘Alice was a fool to have rejected what I could have given her. But her loss is your gain.’

‘What you could have given her?’ Sophie repeated, politely incredulous, ‘And just what was it you
could
have given her that would have made the loss of her reputation worthwhile, my Lord? Clearly not your name.’

He laughed at that and struggle as she might for calm, Sophie felt her own temper begin to rise.
Who does he think he is that we should all be so grateful for his attentions?

‘Jewelry. Clothing. Whatever she had wanted.
Apart
from marriage,’ he added, when Sophie would have spoken. ‘Have you any idea how many women have set their caps at my position?’

‘How fortunate it is to be you.’ Sophie observed dryly. The arrogance of the man! And the worst thing was that she knew it to be true. Society bent over backwards to accommodate men like Roxburghe, offering the Season’s prizes like so many sacrificial lambs. Some men played the courting game with honorable intentions but men like Roxburghe enjoyed what was on offer without making any promises.

‘Indeed it is. Come over here, Sophie,’ he urged again, voice soft, ‘I like the way your hair falls across your shoulders. I want to run my fingers through it.’

Sophie shivered. Despite herself, something inside her responded to the note in his voice; she watched the sudden heat ignite in his eyes and found an echo of it resonate somewhere deep within herself. Such feelings were shocking in a young woman of breeding and she suppressed the shiver that danced across her skin.

‘I do not want to be touched,’ she said, an edge to her voice. It was true enough. She did
not
want to be touched by Roxburghe. Danger lay in that direction, she recognized it instinctively. How shameful would it be if she succumbed to the man after all the trouble she had taken to keep Alice out of his hands. For while it would not matter nearly so much if
she
were ruined – if she wasn’t already; Sophie was prepared to accept that she would pay heavily for this absurd adventure – she could not allow Roxburghe the singular pleasure of adding yet another seduction to what was undoubtedly a long list.

Had Mary Trewellyn, that girl who had been sent back to the wilds of Lincolnshire, sat in this very room, listening to his Lordship while he stole her life away?

‘Of course you do,’ he returned easily, ‘Don’t play the innocent, little Sophie. Innocent young ladies don’t come up with madcap plans to run off in the dead of night. Not with the likes of me, they don’t. They tell their papa’s that there is a wolf at the door,’ he gave her the kind of smile the devil himself would have been proud of, ‘and Papa very sensibly locks the bedroom door.’

Sophie winced but he had a point. What
had
possessed her to decide to save Alice all by herself? Perhaps if her uncle had not been away for the week in Yorkshire she might have gone to him, for Edward Gaskell was very much a gentleman and would have dealt with Roxburghe most decidedly. Unfortunately, he might also have sent his daughter back home for he’d already expressed his doubts about what he termed ‘the silly carry ons’ of his wife and daughter. Uncle Edward was a scholar who spent the better part of his time in his library. But he would not countenance another scandal in his life. The last one had been when he had thrown caution to the wind and married Aunt Felicia.

‘I was trying to help Alice. How was I to know you would bring me here? If all had gone to plan then I would have been back in Half Moon Street before the servants were even stirring.’

‘Did Alice not tell you that I intended to take her away?’

Sophie stared at him in silence. Of
course
Alice hadn’t told her. How could she when she hadn’t known what Sophie was planning? But his words made sense. The last thing he would have wanted was parade a popular debutante around town.

She managed a nonchalant shrug. ‘Oh, you know Alice. She always mixes things around. She thought you were taking her to Regent’s Park before coming here.’

Roxburghe seemed to accept this, dismissing the matter. It was obvious that, as far as he was concerned, Alice was a thing of the past. Which was a mixed blessing for Sophie as he seemed intent on turning his attentions in her direction and she had no intention of being her cousin’s substitute.

‘Lord Devereux,’ she began, ‘I’m sure you can understand that I am anxious to return to London. I was hoping that you can arrange a vehicle to take me in the morning.’

‘Leaving us the night?’ he mused, ‘I had planned on spending several weeks here. Must you go so soon?’

‘I must.’ She said, astonished that he had intended to keep Alice away for so long. ‘My aunt will be sick with worry.’