Sophia allowed a great big smile to spread across her face as she gazed at the shrew. She hoped the woman would apologize.
“We are clear,” Lady Anthony replied in a glacial tone that contained no hint of remorse. “But hear me now, Scarsdale. You may threaten me all you wish, but I am no magic worker. I cannot turn a weed into a flower. My reach will only go so far. If you take this woman to London in her current state, they will devour her. You’ll rue the day you failed to listen to me. I beg you, wait until...” Her frosty, gray gaze swept haughtily over Sophia’s body from her slippers to her face. “Wait until you can at least properly clothe her, teach her manners, and do something about her wretched hair before bringing her into the lion’s den. I fear there is nothing to be done about the rest of her.”
Nathan could have cheerfully wrung his aunt’s neck for her blistering remarks about Sophia’s appearance, especially when he glimpsed how pale Sophia had grown. He had the overwhelming urge to protect Sophia from his aunt. Sophia had not been born into Society. And though her father was a harsh, cruel man, he was a babe at the art of scathing comments compared to the ladies of the haute ton.
Nathan studied Sophia for a moment. He sincerely doubted all the training in the world would make her behave as a bored, vain, cruel socialite, which was exactly how she needed to act to fit in with the senseless, malicious ladies of the ton. And that fact, among many others, was why he fully intended to leave her in the country. He’d introduce her to Society, as was proper, when she was ready, but her days would be spent at Whitecliffe.
Of course, he’d not really considered just how much it might take to prepare Sophia. As much as he hated to admit it, perhaps his aunt had a solid point. Sophia was going to need a great deal of work to gain the needed polish and requisite aloofness. He briefly thought of Aversley’s wife and how well she seemed to have adjusted to life in Town, yet maintained her unique ways, but Nathan dismissed the comparison. Amelia had been born a lady and had both known how to act and had the right family connections.
Sophia lacked the knowledge, connections, and beauty that Amelia had in spades. He glanced down at his soon-to-be bride and found her now scowling openly at his aunt, who had raised her lorgnette to inspect Sophia. He had to bite back a grin at her show of fortitude and restraint in the face of his aunt’s obvious disdain. He’d half expected Sophia to fly at his aunt like a wolf attacking its prey.
Sensing all eyes in the room on him, waiting for him to say something, Nathan spoke. “Of course, Sophia will stay here after our marriage until she has time to―” he cast about in his mind for the exact right words to say in order to avoid injuring Sophia’s pride or revealing the whole truth of his plans “―order a new wardrobe and feel comfortable in her role as duchess.”
There. He smiled, pleased with the way that sounded. Glancing around the room, he first met his aunt’s gaze, who nodded approvingly, then Harry’s, who shook his head, and finally Sophia’s, whose eyes were narrowed quite angrily at him.
The look reminded him of one his mother used to give him and filled him with the sudden need to show Sophia right away that she would never have control over him as his mother had once had over his father. “Aunt Harriet, you will remain here at Whitecliffe with Sophia until she is deemed ready to be introduced to London Society.”
“That could take the rest of my life,” his aunt muttered.
“Ah,” he said without a touch of sympathy, “Then so be it. That will be all for now, Aunt Harriet. Go get some rest.” He motioned toward the door, dismissing her.
His aunt’s mouth opened and closed as if she might argue, but a single raised eyebrow from him and she clamped her jaw shut and marched out of the room in a swirl of skirts and ire. Once she was gone, silence descended upon the library, though he could have sworn he heard Sophia mentally cursing him. Then Sophia’s face turned from angry to hurt, making him uncomfortable. It almost seemed that her lips were trembling.
“Gibson,” he barked, desiring the solitude he was used to.
The butler appeared at Nathan’s side. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“Please show Miss Vane and her brother, Master Harry, to their guest chambers and see that they are provided with immediate baths. The wedding will take place tomorrow afternoon, and I’ll be departing the next day for London. Instruct Mr. Dobbs of my plans so he may pack my trunks.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler intoned, then swept his hand toward the door in his typical snooty fashion. “If you please,” he commanded to Sophia and Harry. Nathan frowned. He’d need to remind Gibson later to always be respectful of Sophia, but as Nathan watched Harry and Gibson depart Sophia did not budge and he chuckled inwardly. She had a backbone stiffer than a solid plank of wood. He rather liked that fact, except she could not be allowed to think she could argue with him.
“What is it, Sophia?” he clipped.
“I would like a moment alone with you, Nathan.”
He didn’t like the demanding tone she had taken. He was not his father to be browbeaten by his wife, or soon-to-be wife. “Call me Scarsdale unless we are alone,” he said, reasserting himself. “Do you understand?”
“All right, Scarsdale. I’d like a moment alone with you, if it pleases you, O Great and Mighty Duke.”
He should have been mad at her insolence, but he found it damned amusing that she had managed to make his name sound like a curse and that she had the nerve to reproach him for what she must perceive as high-handed treatment. Clearly, he and his future wife had a few rules to set. He waved Gibson, who was lingering by the door, to leave. “Take the boy.”
Harry scowled at Nathan, then appeared to realize what he must be doing and schooled his young features. “Shall I st-stay with you, S-Sophia?”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied without hesitation.
Deep chagrin that he had made the child worry for his sister’s safety filled Nathan. He was not a monster who was cruel to children. To prove it, he strode past Sophia and across the room, and knelt in front of Harry.
“I will never lay a finger on your sister. Do you understand?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, Your G-Grace. But words c-can s-sometimes hurt as much as b-blows.”
“Harry!” Sophia admonished.
Careful with his motions so as not to frighten the boy, he nudged his chin with the tip of his knuckle. “Thank you for that much-needed reminder.” His mother’s words had been like a hammer blow each time they fell, and it appalled him that he’d become cold enough not to realize his words could have the same effect. He would take more care from here on out.
The boy nodded, amusingly enough as if approving what Nathan had said, and walked out the door where Gibson was now waiting.
Nathan stood and braced himself not to lose his temper with Sophia again. He would firmly, but kindly, explain how their relationship would work from this moment forward. He turned to face her, expecting her to be glaring at him, but her eyes shone as if she might cry.
Shocked, he stepped close to her and looked down into her now-upturned face.
Sophia was hurt and confused. One moment she had been sure Nathan was marrying her only out of pity and that she was making a terrible mistake, and then he had made comments that gave her hope he actually liked and admired things about her. Then he’d squelched that hope, again, by telling the butler to have his bags packed. No man who cared at all about the woman he was marrying would plan to leave her the day after their wedding. Yet, then he’d shown genuine kindness toward Harry, and the look of deep concern in his eyes told her he was truly worried he’d hurt her. But worry was not enough. If he didn’t even want to live with her how could she possibly believe that this man could ever love her and treasure her? Her anger drained away and only hurt remained.
She’d not give up hope, she told herself. It was hers, and she had precious little she could say that about. She may be a fool for what she was about to do, but she would never receive love from a man who wanted to leave her in the
country.
With the decision made, calmness settled over her. “I cannot marry you, Nathan.”
His brows drew together, and then his lips pressed into a hard line. “I see. Is this your way of attempting to punish me for hurting you?”
She shook her head. “No. I would never purposely punish you.” She wanted to offer explanation without offering the secrets of her heart. She refused to share those with a man who would never love her. “But I did overhear you speaking with your aunt before, and just now you made it clear you plan to return to Town without me. The thought of being left here alone with your aunt made me realize that, no matter what terrible things are to come with a ruined reputation and no husband, being left at the mercy of your aunt would be worse.” That explanation would have to suffice.
A dark smile settled on his beautiful face. “You will only be in the country with my aunt a short time.”
Sophia’s heart began to pound harder as she stared at him. He was so beautiful with his dark looks, broad shoulders, and proud face. How easy it would be to relent to him. She thought she knew why, too. She was already in love with Nathan. Oh botheration. She was a cork-brained fool.
If only there was a chance he would ever feel more than pity for her. Then she would stay and marry him.
“And after that?” she whispered. “What will you do with me after I am properly introduced in London?”
He sighed heavily. “You’ll come back here and I’ll visit you.”
Her heart squeezed painfully. “You want to hide me away because you are ashamed of me, and I don’t want that.”
Weariness registered in his eyes, and he reached out, running the back of his hand down her cheek. “No, Sophia, it’s not that. I’m simply not suited to be a doting husband.”
“Living with one’s wife would hardly qualify you as a doting husband,” she muttered. “Clearly, you don’t desire me, and I don’t want to be married to a man who doesn’t even desire me. Frankly, I want much more than that, though it would have been a good start.”
Nathan wanted nothing more than to put an end to this day with a long, soak in the bath and a tumbler full of brandy, and he wanted it to happen in an expedient manner. His mood was foul, not amorous. He liked order, and ever since he’d met Sophia, his life had been marked by disorder. Not to mention that someone had tried to kill him—possibly twice—and that fact was ever present in his mind. When he’d gone to London he’d tried to see Sir Richard, the man he wanted to head an investigation, but Sir Richard had been out of town.
Sophia coughed loudly, and purposely by the mutinous look on her face. Nathan focused on her once more. If she needed to feel desired, he would assuage the need and then he’d get some rest, so he could focus with a clear mind on the matter of who wanted him dead. “Close your eyes, Sophia.” He dropped his voice low and let it rumble from deep within his chest.
“Whatever for?” she asked, the picture of bright, blue-eyed innocence, which was amazing considering where she had grown up. But that innocence was also the problem at hand.
“Because I’m going to kiss you,” he replied, sliding one hand around her narrow waist and inching the other up her back to cup the base of her neck. She stiffened as he curled his fingers around the delicate column of her neck, but given her inexperience, it was no surprise.
He tilted her head back and gently, ever so gently, he brushed his lips across hers. She didn’t pull away or stiffen further. She pressed her mouth closer and rose up to her tiptoes, which surprised the hell out of him. Her lips were soft and hot, and damn it all if his lust didn’t stir to life. He retreated at the realization and stared down at her.
Her eyes flew open, and she frowned. “Is that it?”
“For now,” he said, sure she looked upset because she wanted more. “Now that everything is settled the marriage can go forth.” He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, then strode to the sidebar. “Off to bed with you.”
“But it’s not settled.” She chewed on her lip as her brow creased. “In fact, it’s rather that I’m surer now than I was a few moments ago that we most definitely should not marry.”
He froze, the decanter raised halfway to his glass and turned to face her. Standing there, cast in the growing shadows and the warm glow of the fire, she suddenly looked like a mythical creature with her fine bones, large eyes, and cropped hair. Not at all like the woman he’d thought in need of an excellent lady’s maid and a seamstress with a superb eye.
He set the decanter down behind him and strolled back to her. “What makes you sure we should not marry?” he asked, curious to hear what she would say.
“Well, I thought a kiss from you would curl my toes, flutter my heart, and make me swoon, and then I’d end up in your bed.” She blushed a deep crimson. “Not today,” she whispered, casting her gaze away. “Not the bed part. That part I meant would happen after we were married.”
Nathan snapped his jaw, which had fallen open, shut. “Did you want those things to happen?” His voice throbbed.
She nodded. “I suppose I did, which I don’t mind telling you utterly surprised me. You see, you made me think I might be falling in love with you. You rescued me, and my brother, as well. Then you nobly asked me to marry you and I started to think of you like a knight from an old tale. But―I hope this does not hurt your feelings―your kiss didn’t even make my heart speed up much, and if I was really falling in love with you like I had thought I was, then I’m sure my heart would have galloped ahead when your lips met mine.”
“You thought you loved me?” His heart was beating a heavy, annoying rhythm.
She pressed her lips together. “I hadn’t meant to tell you that. Obviously, I was wrong. So, you see, we really should not marry. You don’t desire me at all, which is plain to see from that kiss. And I suppose I don’t desire you, either. I don’t think that’s a good recipe for a happy marriage. Do you?”
“No. No, I don’t,” he murmured, thinking of and dismissing his parents’ terrible marriage in one swift motion. He took a step closer to her and drew her against him, undeniably aware she had stirred his pride to life with her words.
Sophia apparently had passion in her that she now wanted to explore, and he’d be damned if any other man would show her how to unleash it. He’d much prefer a wife who wanted to bed him over a wife who screeched that his attentions were disgusting, as his mother had done to his father.
He slid his hands to the base of Sophia’s skull, and without hesitation, he claimed her mouth and gave no quarter. Her lips molded to his as he massaged them, and he kneaded his fingers through her short, silky hair. He thought to kiss her enough to show her he could curl her toes, but when she touched his lips with her tongue, he forgot his plan and delved inside her slick, hot mouth to give what she was asking for.
She was sweet, like a fine brandy, and melted into his arms, mewling from her throat. Her heart pounded against his as he trailed his mouth down her neck to the beckoning space between her collarbones. He flicked his tongue over her skin and savored the shiver he elicited from her. He’d wager her toes were curled now and he could stop. But he didn’t.
His blood hummed in his veins as moved lower to the slight swell of her breasts. He cupped them both with his hands and brushed his fingers over the hard buds straining against the material of her gown. His body responded in kind, hardening immediately with need. Hell. This had not been part of the plan. Yet, he found he didn’t hate that he wanted her. He didn’t love her—and he never would—so there was no danger in the desire she stirred.
Sliding one hand to her waist and the other to her face to tilt her chin up, he glanced down at her. Slowly, her thick black lashes rose to reveal eyes darkened to a stormy shade of blue. She gazed at him with unmistakable wonder. “Now that was the kiss I’ve been dreaming of. That was a kiss that promised endless possibilities.”
He grinned and kissed her nose. “I’m glad I could oblige.” He pressed another kiss on her brow.
&nbs
p; “I love you, Nathan,” she said softly.
“You do not love me,” he corrected. “You desire me. There is a difference.”
She nodded, frowned, and then shook her head. “No. I mean, yes.” She grinned at him, and it was a lovely, beautiful thing that startled him. Hope, which she seemed to want to share with him, filled her smile. “I do desire you, but I also love you. I’m quite sure of it now.”
“It will fade,” he said, uncomfortable with the adoring way she was looking at him. Adoration could change to disgust in the time it took to exhale.
“Why would you think that?” she prodded.
He shrugged evasively. “Experience.”
“I’m going to show you my love won’t fade, Nathan. And then you will come to love me, too. Together, we will have something extraordinary. I just felt it in here.” She placed his palm against her pounding heart.
He stilled. How could she be so hopeful given her past? He admired it and pitied it. “Don’t,” he said as he moved his hand and pressed a finger to her lips. He wanted to spare her the pain of hope dashed. “I’m not going to explain my entire life thus far to you, Sophia, but you need to know I have no desire for love.”
“That can’t be so! Everyone wants to have love.”
“I don’t. Can you accept that?”
She nibbled on her lip for a moment before nodding. “For now.”
“Forever,” he corrected.
“Forever is such a formidable word. I personally have never cared for it. Frank told me I would be forever under his rule, but I knew differently.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I better go to bed if I’m to be married tomorrow. I need to hang my gown and try to get out some of these wrinkles. There’s much to do. Good night, Nathan.”
Awe for her ability to see the bright side of her situation filled him. He watched as she turned to walk away in her threadbare gown and an idea struck him. He wanted to do something for her, something special. He couldn’t give her exactly what she desired, but he could give her many gifts. “Wait one moment, if you please.”
My Seductive Innocent Page 12
