But now she knew differently. Binding herself to Lord Singleton wouldn’t save her family. Only love could do that.
Papa needed to find the strength and support necessary to curb his drinking.
Mama needed to find the backbone to hold Papa accountable for his behavior.
And Mary—well, Mary needed to find a reason to occasionally leave her bedchamber.
Sophie loved her family dearly, but she was not going to fix all their problems by marrying Lord Singleton. They might be granted a temporary reprieve, but, eventually, Papa would accrue more debt, Mama would continue to make excuses for him, and Mary would remain cloistered in her safe, sheltered world.
Meanwhile, Sophie would find herself chained to a man who thought that the wonderful sisterhood she’d created was dangerous and subversive. She’d wake up every morning feeling miserable, knowing she’d thrown away the rare and precious gift that Reese had given her—his unwavering love.
She stood and paced the wide pebbled garden path, trying to imagine that she was in the tailor’s shop with all the familiar faces of her friends circled around her. If she could explain her dilemma to the members of the Debutante Underground and seek their advice, what would they say?
She pictured Sarah and Ivy, Violet and Abigail, and all the others … and she knew precisely what they’d tell her. To be fearless, and to follow her heart.
She knew, because it was the same advice she’d offer anyone else who asked. And now she had to find the fortitude to act upon it. She had to walk back into that ballroom and tell Lord Singleton that she couldn’t marry him.
Feeling more sure of herself than she had in days, she picked up her skirts and ran toward the house. It would be difficult to tell Charles that she’d changed her mind, but she’d be doing both of them a favor in the end. And once she’d officially called off their betrothal, she couldn’t wait to seek out Reese.
She dashed across the terrace, through the French doors, and into the ballroom, breathlessly searching the room for the marquess—and, almost immediately, he appeared at her side.
“There you are, Miss Kendall,” he said slyly. “Would you care to dance?”
“Actually, I hoped we could talk,” she said.
Lord Singleton chuckled and glanced nervously at the small group of people gathered around them. “I’m sure we can converse on the dance floor,” he said.
Sophie hesitated. Now that she’d made her decision, it felt rather hypocritical to waltz with him. But she didn’t wish to humiliate him either.
“Very well,” she said, accepting the arm he’d offered. “But I’d like to talk with you afterward.”
He gave her hand a patronizing pat and escorted her to the dance floor, where he swept her into a line of couples twirling in time to the music.
“What was it you wished to talk about, my dear?” he asked smoothly.
Sophie raised her chin so that she could meet his eyes. “I think it best to broach the subject after this set—in private.”
“That could be rather difficult. I am the host of this ball, after all,” he said, deftly spinning her underneath his raised arm. “And it’s less than an hour till midnight, when we shall toast our engagement. Perhaps I could call on you tomorrow morning and we could have a proper conversation then.”
Her heart kicked into a gallop. “This cannot wait,” she said firmly.
He narrowed his eyes as, hands raised above their heads, they moved toward each other, then apart. “I do hope you’re not having second thoughts.”
Blast. She hadn’t wanted to tell him like this … but there was no help for it. “I’m afraid I am. I cannot marry you, Charles.”
For several beats of the music, he said nothing; then he shrugged. “I suspect it’s perfectly normal to feel anxious prior to announcing one’s engagement. I’ll fetch you a glass of champagne after this set. It will calm your nerves.”
“I’m not suffering from a case of nerves,” she whispered. “And I’m truly sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt before now. I thought I could be a dutiful wife, that I could make our relationship work … but I can’t.” She glanced around to make sure no one could overhear them and blinked at a new couple on the dance floor. The woman looked like Lily and the man looked like … heavens, Sophie clearly needed spectacles because the man looked like Reese.
Charles steered her away to a less crowded spot and leaned toward her ear. “I think I know what this is about.”
Sophie gulped. “You do?”
“You’ve had strange ideas put into your head by that awful column. And the Debutante Underground.”
Sweet Jesus. She looked directly into his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do,” he said, his tone menacing. “And I have the proof right here.” He released her waist so that he could tap his chest—where she could make out the rectangular outline of her journal.
“You’re speaking in riddles, Charles,” she countered, even as heat rose up her chest and neck.
“Then allow me to make myself very clear. I have invested a great deal of time, effort, and money into this arrangement—an arrangement that obviously benefits your father. We will announce our engagement tonight. And if you are foolish enough to cry off, not only will you be throwing your family to the lions, but you will force me to expose this secret society of yours. I’ll publish the name of every last member in the London Hearsay.”
Oh God. The women of the Debutante Underground had placed their trust in her, and now she was letting them down. The room started to tilt and her ears began to buzz. The silk-lined walls closed in on her like the cold stone of a Newgate jail cell. The corners of her vision turned gray, and her knees wobbled.
“Please … let me explain,” she mumbled, but her tongue was thick and uncooperative. “I—”
Bam. Before she could finish her sentence or properly swoon, another couple slammed into her and Charles, knocking her off her feet with a teeth-jarring jolt.
“Sophie!” called a familiar feminine voice. A soft but surprisingly strong arm circled her waist. Green eyes gazed down at her with concern. Lily propped Sophie against her side while Charles and Reese gained their footing.
“Forgive my clumsiness,” Reese was saying, giving Charles a good-natured slap on the shoulder. “My dancing skills are sorely out of practice.”
“I’ll say.” Charles scowled as he straightened his cravat.
Turning to Lily, Reese said, “Are you all right, Your Grace?”
“I am fine,” Lily replied, her shrewd eyes assessing. “But I am concerned about my friend. I’m going to escort Sophie to the terrace so she can take a bit of fresh air.”
“Thank you,” Charles said stiffly. Turning to Sophie, he said, “Miss Kendall, I trust that you’ll be feeling much improved in time for our midnight toast.”
Sophie blinked back tears of frustration and rage. “I doubt that I shall, my lord.”
“Please, accept my apologies,” Reese said. He placed a hand over his heart as the women left the dance floor and cast Sophie a furtive, reassuring smile.
She tried to smile back but faltered. Nothing was all right. Charles had the means to destroy the reputations and lives of dozens of her friends. And the only way Sophie could protect them was to deny her own heart and marry him.
Chapter 35
Lily whisked Sophie outside and ordered her to sit on the half wall that surrounded the terrace. “Are you hurt, Soph?”
“No,” she assured her friend. “I’m fine, physically.”
“Good,” Lily said, smiling sweetly. “Because I want to know what the bloody hell is going on, and you had better tell me.”
“It’s awful,” Sophie said, hardly knowing where to begin.
“Lord Warshire is in love with you, isn’t he?”
Sophie nodded. “How did you know?”
“From the moment he entered the ballroom, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. It’s clear he’s smitten, S
oph.”
She felt herself blush. “I love him too. I tried to call off the engagement, but Charles found out about the Debutante Underground and is threatening to publish a list of all its members … unless we are married.”
Lily gasped and clenched her fists. “What a cold-hearted, self-righteous, narrow-minded little—”
“There you are!” Sophie and Lily turned to see Fiona anxiously gliding across the flagstones toward them, her auburn hair gleaming in the moonlight. “I saw what happened on the dance floor. Are you both all right?”
“Yes, yes,” Lily said, not bothering to hide her agitation. “But it turns out Lord Singleton is a malicious prig.”
“Oh no,” Fiona said. “I must admit, I much prefer Lord Warshire—even if he is a bit rough around the edges.”
Sophie sniffled. “He’s all edges. But he’s also the most honorable, selfless, decent man I know.”
“Speaking of Lord Warshire,” Fiona drawled. “He asked me to give you a message.”
Sophie leaped off the wall and clasped Fiona’s hand. “What did he say?”
Fiona gave her a knowing smile. “He asked you to meet him in the library.”
“When?” Her heart squeezed.
“As soon as you can slip away, I imagine.”
Sophie frowned. “If my parents or sister ask where I’ve gone…”
“We’ll cover for you,” Lily said, making shooing motions with her hands. “Go on, now.”
Sophie pressed a kiss to Lily’s cheek and gave Fiona a quick, fierce hug. “I’m afraid that Charles will still be announcing our engagement tonight—but at least I’ll have a chance to explain myself to Reese … and to say one final goodbye.” She smoothed her hair behind her ears and took a fortifying breath. “Wish me luck.”
* * *
Sophie skulked down the dimly lit corridor, boldly peeking into various rooms as she searched for the library. The first door opened into a masculine-looking study that smelled faintly of tobacco and leather. The second was a small parlor that emanated the scents of rosewater and tea.
The realization that this grand townhouse would soon be her home made her throat thick with sadness. There was no denying that the house was elegantly appointed and impeccably maintained, but somehow, it still felt dry and inhospitable, like arid soil where nothing beautiful could grow or flourish.
She was carefully closing the door to the parlor when she heard voices behind her, whispering. Blast.
She hurried to the next door, opened it, and ducked inside the dark room, relieved to see the walls were lined with shelves of books. There was no sign of Reese, however, so she moved toward one of the tall mullioned windows where moonlight shimmered between the heavy drapes.
And felt a strong, warm hand on the small of her back. “Soph.”
She turned in to his chest, threw her arms around his neck, and touched her forehead to his. She wanted to tell him that she needed him like a wildflower needs rain. That she’d miss him more than sunshine in December. That she loved him with her whole heart.
But his eyes were dark and heavy lidded with desire, his hard body was pressed against hers, and his wicked mouth was tantalizingly close, making him quite difficult to resist. Impossible, really.
So she brushed her lips across his, savoring every touch, every taste. His racing heart beat against her chest, and he moaned softly into her mouth. It was a heady feeling, knowing she could affect him so. A lovely, sweet pulsing began in her core, and she melted into him. Deepened the kiss into something raw and sensual and hot.
He kissed a path down the column of her neck. Greedily caressed the curves of her breasts and bottom. Their tongues tangled, and their bodies melded.
When he grasped her hips and moved against her, she clung to his shoulders so that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle. “Reese,” she breathed. “I…”
“Wait,” he whispered close to her ear. “I hear something.”
They froze, their senses on high alert. Muffled voices came from behind the door, and the knob rattled.
Reese whisked Sophie toward a waist-high table where a large atlas was displayed. “Under here,” he mouthed, swiftly pulling her beneath the table. He held her close to his side as the couple they’d heard shuffled into the room and drifted toward the far wall.
Oh God. Sophie covered her mouth with her hand. The night had started out badly and somehow turned even worse. She’d known that meeting Reese would be risky—and it seemed she’d tempted fate one time too many. She looked longingly at the library door, wondering if it was possible to make a dash for it.
As though he’d guessed the direction of her thoughts, Reese flicked a glance at the door and shook his head. He was right; leaving their hiding spot was far too dangerous at the moment.
Her stomach sank, but then he squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging smile. If she had to be trapped under a table with someone, terrified that her family’s reputation would be dashed to bits, there was no one she’d rather be trapped with than Reese. She rested her head on his shoulder and huddled close to him while they listened, waiting for their chance to escape.
She desperately hoped that the opportunity presented itself before midnight, for if she wasn’t there when Lord Singleton, her family and friends, and every guest at the ball gathered to toast her engagement, it would look very bad. Indeed, everything she’d sacrificed—her happiness, her future, her one true love—would have been for naught.
“There’s no need for tears,” crooned a male voice across the room—and her skin prickled with recognition. The man was Charles. “Come and have a drink,” he said smoothly.
Sophie heard the clink of glass and the splash of liquid. “That’s Lord Singleton,” she whispered in Reese’s ear, and he arched a dark brow in response.
“If I am honest,” Charles said to his female companion, “I find your reticence quite appealing … and undeniably attractive. But I did not realize that you returned my feelings.”
Sophie supposed that she should have felt a smidge of jealousy or anger, but all she could summon was sympathy for the poor young woman, who sobbed and mumbled incoherently.
“You mustn’t despair,” Charles was saying. “We shall still see each other, after all.”
Sophie’s body went numb—but, in truth, she was more shocked than sad.
“I chose Sophie because she’ll make an excellent marchioness,” Charles said—almost regretfully. “But there’s no reason that you and I should deny the passion that simmers between us, even after I say my wedding vows. Yours are the lips I shall dream of kissing. Yours is the body I shall long to hold.”
Charles’s confession was followed by sounds of sloppy slurping, heavy breathing, and passionate grunting. Sophie valiantly fought back a wave of nausea.
Reese slipped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Singleton’s a bastard,” he said earnestly. “Break off your engagement. Marry me.”
“You don’t know how badly I want to,” Sophie whispered. “But he’s blackmailing me. My journal contains the names of every member of the Debutante Underground, and he’s threatened to publish the complete list. I simply can’t expose my friends. I must protect them—even if it means binding myself to him.”
Reese laced his fingers through hers. “Soph, you don’t need to do that.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as she thought of Violet, Sarah, Ivy, and all her dear friends. “You don’t understand—”
“It’s a quarter to midnight,” Charles said to his companion. “We must return to the ballroom for the toast. But I will be thinking of you … and I’ll see you again soon.”
“Promise me,” murmured a female voice—a voice that was also disturbingly familiar. But … it couldn’t be. Surely not. “Promise that you’ll arrange for us to meet within the week.”
“You know that I will try,” he said huskily.
“Yes,” the familiar voice replied. “And I suspect it is because I am willin
g to give you the affection that my sister does not.”
What the devil? Sophie scrambled out from under the table, needing to witness the scene with her own eyes. There, across the room from her, her sister sat on a desk while Lord Singleton stood between her legs, which were hitched around his hips. Mary’s fingers clutched the lapels of his jacket, and his hands were around her waist.
Sophie blinked to make sure that her eyes and the room’s shadows hadn’t conspired to play tricks on her mind, but no. Finding her voice at last, she choked out, “Mary?”
Chapter 36
“Bloody hell,” Lord Singleton spat.
Sophie watched, dumbfounded, as he released her sister, turned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair. Meanwhile, Mary frantically pulled at the hem of her gown so that it covered her legs. Her cheeks turned red as strawberries.
Reese had emerged from beneath the table and stood behind Sophie, placing a reassuring hand at the small of her back. She searched her sister’s face. “You and Lord Singleton?”
“I’m sorry,” Mary said, her voice cracking. “It only happened once.”
Sophie arched a brow. She’d always been able to tell when Mary was lying.
Her sister swallowed and glanced at the carpet. “Twice.”
“You should have told me you cared for him,” Sophie said. Then she turned to Charles. “I should think it goes without saying, but the engagement is off.”
“Let’s not be so hasty,” he said. “Your sister and I had a dalliance. By the looks of it, you’ve had one with Warshire as well.”
Sophie raised her chin, refusing to apologize. “Your affections are engaged elsewhere, as are mine. That’s no way to begin a marriage.”
Lord Singleton began to pace, rubbing his chin in agitation. “You forget, Sophie, that this was never about sentimentality or love. Besides, I’ve already invested quite a bit in this bargain.”
“I’ll find a way to repay Papa’s debts,” she said.
Lord Singleton snorted. “I don’t see how you possibly could. He owes me a small fortune.”
When You Wish Upon a Rogue Page 24
