The Infamous Rogue (8 page)

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now?
Rosamond and Anastasia recognized the pirate captain as an outcast. They looked past his well-tailored coat and practiced mannerisms, and saw—and loathed—the beast that lay beneath the man’s tidy appearance. He fooled no one with his true nature, his barbarian ways. Did the
ton
think her a pariah, too?
“And to think, Miss Dawson, the captain is fond of you,” said Anastasia.
Sophia’s heart pinched. If gossip spread that the captain was interested in her—or worse, that she was interested in the captain—she might lose the earl, so she quashed the rumor outright with a sharp “He’s not fond of me, I assure you.”
Anastasia gathered her lips in a sour expression. “I saw the captain look at you during supper—twice.”
Sophia stiffened.
“And why shouldn’t he look at Miss Dawson?” said Rosamond. “She is beautiful and charming.”
And rich. Other ladies had breeding or talent or both, but Sophia had wealth. That was her one means to enter high society. And she would not let torrid tittle-tattle ruin her prospects. Lady Lucas was a shrewd and savvy chaperone. If Sophia was in social danger, if the
ton
suspected her an outsider, the matron would surely alert her, for she needed Sophia to flourish in order to restore her own standing in high society.
The stress in Sophia’s bones started to ebb away. If the matron didn’t warn her about pressing threats, then there were no threats to voice. Sophia was only letting her imagination get the better of her. And Rosamond’s staunch support also meant she was accepted by the
ton.
Sophia needn’t fear censure…well, apart from Anastasia. The woman looked piqued to hear Sophia described as beautiful and charming. But Sophia could tolerate the unpleasant chit’s resentment, so long as it remained hers alone.
“I say let the barbarian admire you from afar, Miss Dawson.” Rosamond winked. “It is the man’s only means to associate with a respectable woman, for no woman of character would ever associate with him.”
The door opened.
“Good evening, ladies.”
The earl smiled as he entered the room with a cheerful gait. He and the pirate captain had retired to the sitting room after supper for port and cigars, as was customary.
“Good evening, Lord Baine,” the party returned the greeting.
“We’ve come to join you,” said the earl. He looked at Sophia and smiled. “There is nothing more disagreeable than to be without female companionship.”
The ladies tittered at the general compliment.
Sophia smiled at the earl in return.
But her smile fell as soon as Black Hawk appeared in the doorframe, looking dour. No one greeted the grim-looking captain. In truth, the room fell quiet as soon as he entered it.
The cold stares indicated they had just been talking about him. James knew it, too, for his back stiffened and his eyes hardened.
She remembered Quincy’s words:
James hates to be in society.
A twinge of compassion for the pirate lord pinched her heart, but she quickly quashed the sentiment. It was a dangerous business feeling sympathy for the devil. Let the man suffer under the stinging censure…the way she had suffered in Jamaica.
James offered her a small gesture of greeting: a hot and stabbing glance before he moved across the room. His big body stirred the flames in the oil lamps to life, his heavy footfalls resounded in the silent space.
Sophia stiffened as he passed behind her. She sensed the restless energy thrumming through his muscles. Her heart beat at a swift tempo; sweat formed on her palms.
The pirate captain stopped beside the window and looked out into the blackness.
“Shall we play a game?” suggested Maximilian.
“What sort of a game?” said Rosamond.
The earl shrugged. “How about a guessing game?”
Rosamond set her tea aside. “I know…I will think of something, and you must guess what it is by asking me questions. However, you may only ask questions that require a yes or no answer.”
“Sounds delightful!” said Anastasia.
Rosamond smoothed her skirt in quick strokes before she lifted her eyes heavenward. “I’m thinking of something…blue.”
“The sky!” said Anastasia.
“No,” returned Rosamond. “And you mustn’t guess the answer unless you are sure of it or you will have to pay a forfeit.”
Anastasia pouted. “Oh, very well.”
Sophia remembered a contest she had played with James. He had challenged her to a fishing match. She had lost the game—he had caught the bigger fish: a mahi-mahi weighing two stones—and she had had to pay a forfeit.
“
Give me your hands, Sophia
.”
“
Why?
”
“
That isn’t part of the forfeit, sweetheart, asking questions…give me your hands
.”
Slowly James bound her wrists.
Sophia shivered at the vivid images storming her head, images made more vivid with James standing in the room. She rubbed her wrists at the haunting memory, her pulse tapping at a rapid rate.
As the whole party gathered their seats to form a more intimate circle, the earl said, “Will you join us, Captain?”
“I’ll participate in the game from here.”
The dark timbre in James’s voice was ignored by the rest of the company, too eager to engage in an evening of frivolity. But Sophia heeded the man’s low tone and firm words. She tried to dismiss the shivers that pestered her spine. She tried to tamp down the burning desire to admire the brigand’s physique beside the window. But even when he wasn’t looking at her, teasing her senses, he was still
there.
And that was enough to distract her from the game…from the occupants in the room…from her mission to marry the earl.
Sophia closed her eyes and breathed deep to steady her wayward thoughts.
“Are you all right, Miss Dawson?”
Maximilian had set a chair beside her. She opened her eyes, distraught to think he had moved so close to her and she had not even noticed his presence.
“Yes, I’m fine, my lord.”
Lady Lucas offered her a discreet smile from across the room before she returned to her sewing. The earl honored Sophia with his gallant and devoted attention. The matron recognized it. Sophia had to acknowledge it, too. She had to use it to her advantage if she wanted to be the next Countess Baine…if only Black Hawk wasn’t at the party.
“Who will ask the first question?” said Rosamond. “Imogen, you haven’t said a word. Why don’t you start the game?”
Imogen offered an uneven smile. “Very well. Is it something small?”
“Yes.”
“Is it alive?” said Anastasia.
“No.”
“Is it made from wood?” wondered the earl.
Rosamond grinned. “No.”
Lady Lucas looked up from her sewing. “Is it in this room?”
“Yes.”
The guests searched the room, filled with myriad furniture and artwork.
“Is it the jeweled peacock beside the piano?” James said.
Sophia glanced at James. He had his hands behind his back, his features still turned toward the window. He was staring at the stars; she could tell by the subtle way he lifted his chin to better catch the glimmering lights.
She next peeked at the piano and squinted, searched for the jeweled peacock. She couldn’t be sure in the hazy lamp light, but she assumed it the shiny ornament on the small table next to the piano.
Rosamond frowned. “Yes, it is.” She looked disappointed that the captain had guessed her thought so quickly and ruined the game. “It is your turn, Captain.”
James maintained his position beside the window. He didn’t look at the other guests. “I’m thinking of something cold.”
Sophia’s heart boomed, the beats sound and firm and pulsing in her breast, making her bones throb. She folded her fingers in her lap and squeezed her hands together. What was the brigand doing?
The party wasn’t too keen to play the game with the surly captain. The earl asked the first question to move the amusement along:
“Is it something large?”
“No.”
Rosamond pinched her lips together and stared at her lap. Anastasia regarded the wall.
Imogen bravely filled the quiet void. “Can it fit inside your pocket?”
“Yes.”
Sophia sighed to hear “it” was small enough to fit in his pocket. She wasn’t the cold thing he was thinking about. But for a moment she had sensed he was talking about her.
“Is it made from metal?” said the earl.
“Yes.”
“Is it made from gold?” said Imogen.
“Yes.”
Cold? Small enough to fit in a pocket? Made from gold? Sophia was filled with another burning sentiment. “Is it a fob watch?”
James slowly looked over his shoulder. “Yes, Miss Dawson.”
“Well done, Miss Dawson!” cheered Rosamond. “It is your turn now.”
Sophia pinched her lips and formed a small smile. The scoundrel! She had sensed she was the cold thing he was talking about, and she had been right about it in a roundabout way. He had been thinking about the fob watch she had given him before she had deserted him.
But what about him, the blackguard? What about
his
cold disregard for her?
Sophia pressed her fingernails into her palms. She remembered coming home after her encounter with the drunkards and the governor’s wife. She remembered storming the plantation house and dumping the basket of food on the kitchen table before she’d grabbed the chessboard.
Sophia took in a deep breath. She had won the chess game, too. But the dishonorable rogue had refused to honor his challenge loss. He had refused to wed her.
She wasn’t good enough for him.
Sophia glared at the pirate captain. If she disarmed him in any small way with her piercing stare, as he disarmed her with his, then she would be satisfied. He truly deserved to rot in everlasting hell.
Sophia glanced at Rosamond and broadened her smile. “I am thinking of something…”
After an hour of parlor games, much laughter and merriment, the earl slapped his knees in a jovial expression. “What an enjoyable day! Let us end the evening on a high note…Miss Rayne, I understand you have a gift for music?”
Imogen smiled shyly.
“Oh yes, my dear,” said Rosamond. “You must play for us.”
Rosamond took the girl by the hand and steered her across the room toward the piano. The earl moved about the space, too. He gathered the lights and arranged the lamps around the piano so Imogen could read the sheet music, casting the rest of the room in darkness.
Sophia swiveled her chair to better see the performance. She ignored the black devil behind her. He remained at the rear of the room with the rest of the shadows.
As the company settled in their seats for a musical nightcap, Imogen flexed her fingers before she plinked the keys with aplomb.
The lyrical melody filled the room with its vibrato. Sophia wasn’t familiar with the classical piece. She knew very little about music in general. However, she was moved by the grand sound coming from the fingers of an otherwise reserved and polite young lady.
But it wasn’t long before the vexing brigand’s stare took its hold on her senses again, and she found herself feeling his presence more than she was listening to the music.
Slowly the man advanced, his footfalls steady.
She bristled.
He took an empty seat behind her. The rest of the guests were seated closer to the piano, so she and James were alone in the shadows near the back of the room.
He moved his black leather boot. He softly bumped her chair leg, making her twitch. The music faded from her mind. She sensed only Black Hawk, the dark heat coming from his robust form.
He leaned forward.
Sophia twisted her ankles.
“She plays well.”
James whispered the words against her naked throat, stirring the fine hairs there to arousing life.
Sophia suppressed a chill and maintained her eyes forward. She fixed them firmly on the young woman playing the piano. “She does.”
The soft tickle of warm breath caressed the knob of bone at the base of her skull. “Has the earl proposed to you yet?”
Her heart was booming in her breast. “No, we’ve yet to be alone together.”
“Hmm.”
The soft whistle of air kissed her sensitive skin, and she parted her lips in a quiet gasp of ecstasy.
“There are too many of us here…I wonder why?” he said in a smoldering voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what makes you think the earl is interested in you…and not one of the other eligible females? After all, he didn’t invite any other males to the party. I was offered a spontaneous invitation, remember? Perhaps the earl is selecting a bride from among his sister’s friends…all three of them.”
James moved off.
Sophia quickly looked at the earl. He was seated next to Anastasia…and the chit was whispering into his ear.
Sophia’s head throbbed. The pounding music, the lingering heat from James, the startling image of the earl and Anastasia all muddled together in her mind, confusing her senses.
Was Anastasia looking to snag the earl, too? Sophia was certain Imogen wasn’t interested in Lord Baine. However, Anastasia had lofty ambitions. And yet she was just a child! Seventeen? Eighteen, maybe?
Sophia watched as the earl smiled at Anastasia.
Was Maximilian interested in the girl?
The prospect seemed outrageous…and yet Anastasia had breeding, royal blood. She was young, but not too young to be married. She was handsome, too…and pretty girls with a good family name wed all the time. Anastasia would make any man a fine wife.
Sophia pressed her palm against her breast to steady her rampant heartbeats. She had come too far to lose the earl now. Anastasia might have a sound pedigree, she might make Maximilian smile with her sharp tongue, but she was still a child. And the earl was a man at thirty-two…and Sophia knew how to seduce a man.
Chapter 7
S
ophia inhaled the heavy scent of the woods. The fresh foliage and blooming wildflowers filled the air with the comforting breath of nature. Together with the trilling birds and the cool shade of leaves, it was an ideal place to stretch out and dream.
But she didn’t have time to engage in the pleasurable pastime. She strolled the dirt path beside the earl, Lady Lucas tagging behind them at a respectable distance.
“I must say…that is a stunning necklace, Miss Dawson.”
Sophia smiled. She touched the brilliant gems at her throat with her fingertips. The cold stones had no meaning for her. The sparkling rocks served only one purpose: to help make her the next Countess Baine. She would gladly trade every one of them for the earl’s hand in matrimony.
“Thank you, my lord. The necklace was a gift from my father. The diamonds are from India.”
She didn’t really know where the diamonds were from, but India was a nest of treasures. She suspected the exotic setting sounded charming to the earl. The diamonds certainly looked charming. The man had admired the jewels at her bust for most of their morning walk…he had admired her bust, too.