What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1) (17 page)

As if on cue, she muttered something under her breath and he suppressed another grin when she straightened her back, lifted her head and looked him square in the eye. “Would you like some?” she asked with a newfound boldness.

Would he like some? He wanted everything she had to offer and more. “That all depends,” he drawled, taking a step towards her, “on what it is you’re offering.”

With a coy smile, she dipped the spoon into the glass and scooped up a generous helping. “Here,” she said holding the spoon out in front of her.

Sebastian could not decide if it was the most innocent of gestures or a prerequisite to seduction. The lady certainly was an enigma. It was not until he had taken a step towards her, that he discovered he had been wrong on both counts. With a flick of the spoon, she watched with delight as its contents flew through the air and landed on his chin.

There was a brief moment of silence, where neither knew what the other would do. Sophie had pursed her lips in an attempt to suppress a grin while she waited for his reaction.

“When I catch you,” he began, wiping his chin and sucking syllabub off his finger “I shall make you lick it all off.” He watched her eyes widen with fear, with excitement. “You have until the count of three,” he said, noting her hesitance. She obviously did not believe him. “One …”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Two …”

“You can’t,” she began, but then must have decided that he could for she placed the glass on the table, wrapped the blanket tightly around her and bolted for the door.

“Three.” He reached the door before she had a chance to open it, grabbed her round the waist and pulled her back against his bare chest. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he whispered in her ear.

“How about this,” she replied, stamping on his toe.

“Ow!”

As he relaxed his grip, she dropped her weight, twisted her body and ducked underneath his arm. “I’ll have you know, I can be a formidable adversary when I put my mind to it,” she boasted, running to the far side of the bed.

“A point I would do well to remember,” he said feigning a limp in order to gain some ground. For dramatic effect, he grabbed the bedpost, using it for support.

The smile vanished from her lips. “Dane, I’m sorry,” she said looking down at his toe. “Have I hurt you?”

“I’ll live.”

Good. She was so concerned with his toe she’d forgotten all about his nakedness. The sooner she accepted him as a man and not some symbol of patriarchal dominance, the sooner he could get her to St George’s to say
I do
.

Then she made the fatal mistake of taking a few steps towards him. Letting go of the post, he pretended to stumble and reached out for assistance. As she caught him, her blanket fell to the floor and he noticed she was wearing nothing but a chemise.

“Now, I believe there is the matter of dessert to attend to,” he remarked as he collapsed onto the bed, taking her with him.

“What about your toe?” she exclaimed, but then a spark of recognition flashed in her pretty blue eyes. “Why, you monster,” she cried pounding his chest with her fist. “And to think I actually felt sorry for you.”

Sebastian wrapped his arms around her. “In battle, one does what one must,” he said staring at her sweet mouth.

“Well, the joke is on you,” she chuckled, “for there is not one drop of syllabub left on your chin.”

“When I mentioned dessert, it was not syllabub I had in mind,” he said as his mouth found hers with a need he could not quite comprehend.

Breakfast was a far more formal affair than usual. The servants bustled around with renewed efficiency, bringing in plate after plate of ham, eggs, bacon, and an assortment of bread and jam. Everyone appeared deliriously happy, which was all rather ironic considering the fact his guest had taken to parading about town in gentleman’s attire, had been rescued from footpads after visiting a brothel and had since been ravished by the master, twice!

He glanced across the table at Miss Beaufort, who had just taken a bite out of a piece of toast plastered in a ridiculous amount of strawberry jam. She looked up at him and smiled and it felt as though his heart had suddenly dropped into his stomach.

It was not the sort of smile he was used to. It was not the smile of a coquette, not delivered with skilled artifice. It was a smile of genuine affection, with a genuine degree of warmth to indicate she found pleasure in his company. Never before had he held any fanciful notions of chivalry. Yet he could not suppress the need to protect her, to care for her, to bury himself inside her and never let her go. Indeed, he had been so caught up in their game of seduction, he had almost forgotten about Beaufort.

“I believe it’s time we discussed the matter of Antoinette,” he said, silently acknowledging the sooner this whole business was concluded, the sooner he could arrange a special license and make this thing between them official.

“You must have read my mind,” she replied placing the teacup back on the saucer. “I must admit, I have been feeling a little guilty for … well,” she blushed, “for placing my own needs above those of my brother.”

“We must be discreet,” he began. But he knew she had misunderstood when her cheeks flushed dark crimson. “I mean, we must be judicious in our inquiries, not in our …” he waved his hand back and forth between them rather than embarrass her further. “There was nothing we could have done last night. Besides, James is more than capable of taking care of himself.”

She appeared to consider his comment. “You’re right about James,” she said. “But I still don’t understand why he’s involved with Dampierre.”

Sebastian swallowed a piece of ham and placed his cutlery on his plate. “I suspect it has something to do with Annabel.”

Sophie looked at him blankly.

“Annabel,” he repeated, “the girl who accompanied James when he gave me the necklace.” He reached across the table for the coffee pot and poured another cup.

“I thought you said you didn’t know her,” she replied shaking her head and holding up her hand when he offered to pour her a cup.

He smiled to himself for there was a hint of jealousy in her tone. “I don’t know her,” he reiterated. “When James stopped my carriage, he called out to her. Then last night, Antoinette told me that a girl by the name of Annabel had run away from Labelles.”

“Annabel’s a prostitute?”

“Well, this is where it all gets rather interesting.” He paused while Mrs. Cox removed some of the plates and took them out to the kitchen. “Antoinette said that Annabel was a servant, not a prostitute. She said the girl had been at Labelles for a little over a week. Apparently, she was not supposed to leave her room but had somehow ended up serving drinks downstairs.”

A deep frown marred her brow. “Do you think James helped her to run away?”

“Most definitely,” he nodded. Although why he would risk his life for a servant girl was another matter.

“How very heroic of him,” she sighed clasping her hands to her bosom. “He can be extremely gallant when he has a mind to.”

“Indeed,” Sebastian replied with a hint of sarcasm. He was so gallant he had left his sister to fend for herself in his absence. “There was talk that a gentleman had offered Madame Labelle a rather large sum of money in exchange for the girl.”

“It could not have been James. He does not have that sort of money. Not when —” She paused briefly and then sighed. “He did not offer money, did he? You think he offered our mother’s necklace.”

“I’m afraid it is the only thing that makes sense,” Sebastian said. She looked down into her lap and Sebastian stretched across the table and lifted her chin. “He must have felt it was necessary,” he said softly in an attempt to soothe her. The way he felt at the moment, he would give everything he owned just to see her smile.

“It is not the money,” she said slowly. “James will find another way to secure the funds he needs.” She sighed once more. “My mother adored the necklace. But some things are more important than jewels, more important than money.”

He sat back in his chair. He wanted to tell her she was naïve. He knew what it was like to watch those he was responsible for, suffer from cold, illness, and hunger. In such circumstances, nothing was more important than money.

Lost in thought, she nibbled on a piece of cold toast. “The Comte de Dampierre, do you know where he fits into this?”

Sebastian shook his head. “No, Antoinette refused to discuss it. She said she had not told me anything I could not have found out from someone else. But she would say nothing against Madame Labelle or anyone else associated with her. She said she has no intention of ending up as Haymarket ware.”

“Perhaps he is a patron. Now I come to think of it, Dampierre did say that James had offered to exchange the necklace for something of value. If James offered the necklace in exchange for Annabel, then that means Dampierre is somehow involved with Madame Labelle.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t know why, but Madame Labelle does not seem the sort of woman to become entangled with a man like Dampierre.”

Now she did sound extremely naïve. He had suspected the connection but was waiting for proof. “I have asked Dudley Spencer to look into it,” he replied. “I must call round today and see if he has made any progress.”

“Will Mrs. Spencer be at home?” she asked. “I should love to make her acquaintance.”

He glanced across at her, admiring the way the simple ivory dress hugged her figure. “It would mean dressing as Mr. Shandy,” he sighed, a little disgruntled she would be changing into gentleman’s attire.

“Why so glum?” she asked, presenting him with a rather seductive smile. “You’ve always seemed so fond of my breeches.”

An image of her at Rockingham Pool flashed through his mind. He was just thinking of offering to help her squeeze into the said garment when Mrs. Cox entered and spoilt his little daydream.

“There’s a letter been delivered for you, miss,” Mrs. Cox said stepping around the table to hand it to Sophie.

“For me?” Sophie asked apprehensively. She took the letter and studied the script. “It is addressed to Miss Beaufort. Do you think it might be from James?” She hugged it to her chest, oblivious to the threat such a letter posed.

“Might I suggest you open it,” Sebastian replied with some trepidation. Whoever sent the letter was aware of her identity and that she was staying in a house with an unmarried gentleman.

Sophie tore open the seal and her eyes drifted down to the bottom of the page. “It’s from Madame Labelle,” she said, looking up with a puzzled expression and Sebastian resisted the urge to rip it from her hand. She continued reading and then glanced up at him. “She insists I meet with her this afternoon. She insists it is a matter of life or death.”

Chapter 18

Sophie noticed Dudley Spencer glance at his wife, Charlotte, who looked up from pouring tea and acknowledged his raised brow with a sly smirk.

The tension in the air was palpable.

Dane raked his fingers through his hair. “Please, Dudley,” he said with an exasperated sigh, “would you explain to Miss Beaufort that it would be nothing short of madness to meet with this woman.”

Mr. Spencer sat back in the chair and steepled his fingers. “But were you not the one who escorted Miss Beaufort to Labelles? You obviously had no problem leaving her alone with the woman,” he replied with a shrug as though challenging his friend to defy his reasoning.

“Thank you, Mr. Spencer,” Sophie said triumphantly, grateful someone could see there was an element of logic to her decision.

As Dudley Spencer had found no current record of the Comte de Dampierre, the previous comte having passed away without issue over three hundred years ago, then Madame Labelle was the only person who could shed any light on the matter.

Indeed, Dudley had discovered that Labelles was owned by an investment company. The company also held the deeds to an assortment of warehouses in Wapping and a trade ship called
Le Pionnier
.

Dane shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “That is entirely different,” he said with an air of arrogance. “For one, Madame Labelle was not aware of her connection to Beaufort. And at the time, she was in the guise of Mr. Shandy.”

Mr. Spencer glanced in Sophie’s direction, his gaze drifting slowly over her attire with some amusement. “Indeed.” He paused for a moment and turned his attention back to Dane. “What is it you are afraid of?” he challenged, cutting straight to the point.

The words seemed to strike Dane like a whip. “You more than anyone should know the answer to that.” He glanced across at Charlotte. “I fear Miss Beaufort would be placing herself at risk. One girl has already been held against her will and Madame Labelle had knowledge of it.”

“While I understand your sentiment,” Dudley replied, glancing once more at Sophie’s attire. “I believe Miss Beaufort is more than capable of taking care of herself. Besides, it may be her only chance of discovering what happened to her brother.”

“And tell me, would you afford your wife the same courtesy?” Dane said fiercely.

Mr. Spencer smiled and said with assured ease, “But Miss Beaufort is not your wife.”

A look passed between the two gentlemen, suggesting the conversation was at an end. Mr. Spencer had been deliberately provoking and Sophie could not help but wonder if the physical connection that existed between herself and Dane was apparent to others.