“I can’t be certain how he feels now, of course. He’s an honourable man though, so I don’t think he would back out of the oath. Naturally if he really didn’t wish to marry me, then I wouldn’t hold him to it but when he hears of my circumstances I hope he will at least want to help.”
“Marrying one’s childhood friend is quite a different proposition to pulling her out of a scrape.”
Sitting upright and very still, Sophie lifted her chin. “You don’t think he will want to marry me, then?”
Theo shifted in his chair. “I didn’t say that,” he demurred gruffly. “Any man would be proud to marry you. Just can’t see how things will work out as you hope when you’ve not seen Verney for years. People change and feelings on either side may have altered when you meet again. Besides, you may—”
“Yes?” she prompted.
Theo tossed back the last of his brandy. Then, choosing his words carefully, he said, “You may decide your future lies elsewhere and not with Lord Verney.”
“I have considered that.”
He paused in the act of re-filling his glass and looked up.
“You have?”
Sophie nodded. ‘Should the idea of marriage prove a distasteful for me or James, I’ve decided to employ a suitable companion and set up my own establishment. Olivia can join me when she comes of age.”
“It won’t serve,” replied Theo, shaking his head. “Unless your companion has exclusive entrée to the ton, you will both be forced to live on the fringes of society—deuced awkward for two girls of good birth and background.”
“I don’t much care for society.”
“Easy to say when you’ve not experienced the difficulties of being excluded from it,” he observed. “I don’t care for the caprices of the haut ton either, but it’s essential to be accepted if you want to move in the right circles. I couldn’t bear to think of you living among vulgar mushroom set. They are not the company I would consider proper for you and Miss Sloane. I’m sure my mother or sister would sponsor you, or my sister-in-law, the Countess of Bramwell—”
“I could not impose on your family,” she argued. “Besides, we are running on too fast. I have not seen James yet, let alone raised the subject of marriage. All I ask from you is safe passage to London. Any problems arising after that will be my responsibility.”
He gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re a stubborn girl.”
‘Stubborn and impulsive,” acknowledged Sophie, with a little smile. ‘Traits not likely to make me admired in London society.”
There was a hunger in his voice as he said, “You’ll be much admired, all right. Be the toast of the ton in days. You’re a deuce sight more attractive than the colourless debutantes of my acquaintance.”
Her face glowed with pleasure. ‘That is the nicest thing you’ve yet said to me!”
As his dark gaze held hers, Sophie could not look away. His compliment held more meaning than flowery, eloquent praise would have done. He had not eulogised over her figure or, as one gentleman in Bath had once done, written an ode to her eyes, but his look and accompanying words had set her heart pounding and sent the sweetest of sensations surging through her once more. She chided herself not refine too much on his words. After all, he was a man of the world and no doubt an accomplished flirt. Despite his praise, he was most likely wishing he was with his friends rather than chaperoning a country miss to dinner.
“If your inheritance is substantial, you’ll find yourself pursued by fortune hunters,” said Theo, taking another sip of brandy.
“I doubt my fortune is large by London standards,” replied Sophie. “Of course, Perry and Aunt Eudora covet the…my inheritance, but they are odiously avaricious anyway.”
“In my experience, many people are,” observed Theo. “May I ask if you will gain access to your inheritance on your birthday?” His expression changed as he realised how his words might be construed and he hastened to add, “don’t think I am interested in your money. Dash it all, no! I was merely going to point out that if you don’t become engaged to Lord Verney soon, the fortune hunters will flock to your side when they discover you are wealthy. Depend upon it, the Verney’s butler will have to fight them off with a broom!”
“That sounds uncomfortable,” said Sophie, giggling at the image this conjured up. “To answer your question, yes, I gain my inheritance on my birthday.”
“Then for pity’s sake do not publicise the fact when you reach Town,” he urged. “Rum characters are always on the lookout for heiresses to become leg shackled to, by fair means or foul. Verney and his mother will need to protect you!”
“I’m sure they will.” She wondered if this was the right moment to explain about the peculiar form her inheritance took and decided it was not. It would embroil him further and that would be unfair. He wanted to be rid of her, not feel an even greater sense of obligation. The Devereux Star was well hidden and unless the necessity arose she would not reveal its existence, or whereabouts. She changed the subject to the one that had been bothering her all afternoon.
“Do you think we might have been mistaken about someone following us? Perhaps the person was simply enjoying a lark.”
He shook his head, frowning. “We were being followed, although by whom and for what reason remain a mystery at present. If it was your cousin, I would have expected him to have descended upon us by now. The whole thing is decidedly odd.”
There was a knock at the door. The landlord entered, saying a gentleman craved their indulgence in sharing their parlour for an hour. The visitor had, it seemed, professed to know Miss Devereux when he had overheard one of the maids speak of taking a hot brick up to air her bed, and was desirous of meeting her.
Sophie’s heart began to race but she saw only a flash of anticipation in Theo’s eyes.
“You’d better show him in,” he said smoothly.
She jumped to her feet as the landlord went out. “Is it Perry, do you think?” she whispered in an urgent voice.
Theo, who had positioned himself between Sophie and the door, made no reply. She watched him reach down inside his right boot and, when he withdrew a small but eminently serviceable pistol, she let out a squeak of surprise.
“Just a precaution,” he murmured, shielding her body with his. “I believe we are about to discover the identity of our pursuer. If it is your cousin and he turns ugly, he’ll feel nothing more than the weight of my fist, but I’d rather be prepared for the unexpected.”
Chapter 5
Brisk footsteps announced the approach of the visitor. Sophie held her breath, nervously noting Theo had concealed the pistol behind his thigh. She was expecting Peregrine and, peering over Theo’s shoulder, she gave a gasp of astonishment when the tall figure of Lucius Grey strode in.
She stepped out from behind her protector, exclaiming, “You!”
Mr Grey smiled disarmingly. “A pleasant surprise, I hope, Miss Devereux. My apologies for intruding but I had no idea you intended to travel so far from home today.”
“Nor I you!” Sophie regarded him with suspicion. “You made no mention of it this morning.”
“It was a spur of the moment decision.” Without taking his eyes from her face, Mr Grey added in a matter of fact tone, “Put your pistol away, Mr Cavanagh. I’m sure you’ve no real desire to shoot me and saddling the landlord with a corpse at this hour would prove an inconvenience.”
Theo did not do as he was bid. Instead, he brought the pistol into full view and watched Mr Grey through narrowed eyes. “I’m protecting Miss Devereux’s interests.”
Grey’s enigmatic gaze swept over him. “I have no quarrel with that. You appear to be well versed in the sport of shooting…that’s a fine-looking pocket piece. Manton’s, I fancy?” He indicated Theo’s short-barrelled pistol.
“Made to my specifications,” he replied, a trace of pride in his voice as he held up the pistol for closer inspection. “As sweet an action as you’ll find anywhere. Superb balance too.”
“I
’ll take your word for it. Do you visit the shooting gallery for practice?”
“Yes, and I can take the top pip out of the five of diamonds at fifteen yards.”
“Admirable!” Mr Grey strolled further into the room. “We must test our skill sometime. I’m a visitor of Manton’s too.”
“Is that where I’ve seen you before?” asked Theo, his brow creasing.
“I doubt it. My sessions always take place in private.”
“The devil they do!” said Theo, momentarily diverted. “How did you arrange that?”
“I’ll tell you if you’ll put your pistol away,” replied his companion, in a dry voice, pulling at the fingers of his driving gloves. “I’m sure you’ve ascertained by now that I present no danger to Miss Devereux, or to yourself. May I join you for a while?”
Theo glanced at Sophie. When she nodded, he shrugged and replaced the pistol in his boot. He drew a chair from by the wall and placed it at the table, saying, “Please do…we’d like to know why you are here.”
“And why have you been following us,” added Sophie, sitting down opposite their visitor. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
Mr Grey stretched out one long, top-booted leg. “Following is a rather simplistic description, Miss Devereux. As I said, it was a last minute decision to travel to London. When I stopped at The Castle, I found the landlord in an agitated state over the disruption that had taken place earlier. He was all too willing to pour the tale of Melville’s iniquity into my ear. When he described Mr Cavanagh’s travelling companion I felt sure it must be you, having had the pleasure of meeting you both this morning. Naturally, I was surprised. I had no idea you were planning a journey and, in the circumstances, I confess, a little concerned for your welfare. You introduced Mr Cavanagh as an acquaintance but even so, I determined to satisfy myself that you were safe. I soon caught up and kept my distance, content to observe for a time. You seemed to be a passenger of your own free will, but I wanted to make sure Cavanagh was behaving in an honourable fashion—”
Theo uttered a choked protest, “Deuced cheek!”
Mr Grey raised amused brows but pressed on, “Everything seemed normal, but I still needed to satisfy my curiosity, and my conscience. Having guessed you would be staying at The Pelican overnight, I decided to see if you needed any assistance. Peregrine would desire me to do that much at least.”
“Have you spoken to him today?” she asked in an urgent voice.
“Peregrine? I have not seen him since yesterday.”
“Thank goodness!” cried Sophie. When Mr Grey looked a query, she explained, “I am anxious neither he nor my aunt learn of my direction.”
“I see.” Mr Grey’s prescient gaze searched her face. “And Miss Sloane…does she know where you are going?”
“Yes.”
A frown marred his brow. “Won’t it place her in a difficult position if she is pressed by her brother or Mrs Sloane?”
“Olivia will not betray me,” she replied. “I hope you will not either.”
“I would not betray a confidence, even if I had the opportunity.” Then, after a hesitation, he went on, “Pardon me, Miss Devereux, but was it not a little thoughtless to take your cousin into your plans and then leave her to deal with the consequences of your flight?”
A deep flush stole into Sophie’s cheeks. “I did not feel comfortable about doing so, but Olivia was all encouragement for it. You are not well acquainted with my family or my situation, but I assure you I had good reasons for leaving as I did.”
A half-smile curved Mr Grey’s mouth. “Your exact circumstances and destination are none of my business, of course, but I hope you will understand my concern and forgive my intrusion into your private dinner.”
The flush on Sophie’s cheeks darkened to crimson and she eyed him with resentment. “We are not eloping if that is what you are thinking!”
“I offered to escort Miss Devereux to London,” interjected Theo in a curt voice. “There’s nothing havey-cavey about it!”
“Dear me, no,” drawled Mr Grey, his brows lifting in an expression of innocent surprise. “I would not suggest for a moment you had undertaken so crude a course.”
“Olivia will join me in London soon,” said Sophie.
“Will she indeed?” he murmured. “And what of Peregrine? Surely he will try to find you when he discovers you have left. He led me to believe there was an…er…understanding between you.”
“Not on my side,” she assured him. “I hope to reach London before Peregrine finds me. Now you see why I am anxious he does not learn of my whereabouts.”
“I see. Well, he shall not learn of it from me,” replied Mr Grey.
Theo, who had been studying the other man’s profile intently, remarked, “I know I have seen you somewhere before.”
Mr Grey flicked him a glance. “We have already determined it is not Manton’s.”
“Elsewhere in London then,” said Theo, his brows knit in concentration.
“Most likely,” Grey replied. “You could have seen me at any number of events.”
“It wasn’t at the usual places, but for the life of me I can’t recall where.”
“Does your family live in London?” asked Sophie.
Lucius Grey shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not on a regular basis. My estates are in Hertfordshire.”
“What is the name of your property?” said Theo.
“I doubt it is of sufficient consequence to be known to you,” said Mr Grey with a smile that robbed the rebuff of any offence. “I have been spending more time in Bath of late. I have business interests there and that is how I met Peregrine.” He rose in one lithe movement, and, giving a bow, observed, “I shouldn’t intrude on your company further. You plan to leave first thing in the morning, I presume?”
“After breakfast. We hope to reach London by nightfall,” said Theo.
Grey nodded. “I, too, plan an early departure, but I hope to see you both again tomorrow. Now, if you will excuse me, I must seek out Bowyer.”
“You haven’t told me how you arranged private shooting practice at Manton’s,” said Theo.
For an instant, amusement gleamed in Mr Grey’s eyes. “Certain contacts organised it. It is not an arrangement open to everyone.”
“Curious,” observed Theo, staring at the door when it had closed behind their visitor, “never heard of anyone having private sessions at Manton’s before. He was reticent about his background too.”
“He doesn’t give much away, even to Perry,” acknowledged Sophie. “Perry is certain he is wealthy though.” She looked at Theo. “Do you believe what he said about deciding to travel at the last moment?”
“No, I think he has tracked us since Bath.”
“And his explanation about following me?”
“There may be some truth it in, but I don’t believe it’s his main reason.”
A shudder ran through Sophie. “I’m a little afraid of Mr Grey. He’s the most unfathomable man I’ve ever met. I wonder what his real reason is for being here.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “As if I didn’t have enough problems thinking about Perry and Eudora, and James.”
There was a tremor in her voice. All at once, the consequences of her impetuous flight were crowding in on Sophie. She felt hunted, confused and for the first time apprehensive about the future. From a distance, she heard Theo murmur her name and when he repeated it in a more imperative voice she turned towards him.
He was very close and his warm breath, pleasantly laced with cognac, caressed her as he spoke. He studied her features for a long moment and then traced one fingertip down her cheek. The gesture, seemingly meant to be reassuring, sent her senses soaring. She felt the heat emanating from his body and breathed in his now familiar, tantalisingly masculine scent of sandalwood and fresh linen.
As if drawn to him by an invisible thread, she moved nearer. Part of her recognised she was behaving like a wanton, but her body wouldn’t obey her mind; it seemed determined to defy reaso
n and good sense. Heady excitement was chasing away self-control.
Fascinated, her gaze skimmed his face, absorbing every detail. A lock of hair had slipped over his brow and she could see the dark sweep of night beard along his jawline. His brows were drawn together, not in anger but as if he was battling some other emotion, while his eyes glittered with an intensity which made Sophie catch her breath.
Her gaze slid to his mouth.
He had a beautiful mouth. She had never thought of a man’s mouth as being beautiful before, but she could think of no other suitable description. Well defined, perfectly formed and sensuous, it could have been carved by a master sculptor. Desire pooled in the pit of her stomach until it was almost a physical ache.
She wanted to smooth the crease from between his brows, to feel the abrasion of his bristles beneath her fingers and to trace the lines of his strong features. Her hands wanted to explore and linger, to know every inch of him and enjoy the look in his eyes as she did so, but while that journey of discovery might satisfy her curiosity, it would not be enough to sate her passion. She wanted more. She did not know what she wanted precisely, only to begin with she longed for his arms about her and his lips on hers.
His breathing grew suddenly ragged. He cupped her face in his palms, his touch cool against her heated cheeks. “Sophie,” he murmured again. “Dear God, Sophie, I—”
His mouth descended and all Sophie’s senses centred on him. She exulted in the intimacy of the moment, in the way his strength and maleness engulfed her. Her fingers trailed over his chest, committing the ridged, muscular planes to memory. In a haze of pleasure she wondered what it would be like to be held against it and her breath quickened in anticipation.
The sounds of a carriage arriving in the yard intruded in a brutal fashion. Theo, his lips almost touching hers, hesitated. He drew in a sharp breath, closed his eyes and his hands fell away from her face. A groan grazed past his lips before he jumped to his feet and strode away.
Sophie, dazed and staring at his retreating figure, was too honest not to admit to disappointment.
Three Secrets and a Scandal (Regency Secrets and Scandals Book 2) Page 7
