“We have to leave, Isabelle. I was nearly cornered by my stepsister. If she finds out we are here . . .”
“Say no more.” Sophie’s cousin took her arm, and they all but ran back to the entrance of the house, where footmen waited at the ready. Once their mantles were retrieved, they stood outside and waited for the carriage to come around. The temperature had dropped somewhat, and they both huddled close together to share their warmth.
“Are you going to tell me about your duke?” her cousin said in a teasing tone.
“He’s not my anything. We were discussing our childhood, nothing more.”
“You danced far too close for it to not be an intimate dance. I think half the ladies were fanning themselves and wishing they were in your slippers tonight.”
Sophie climbed into the carriage first, eager to be out of sight. “The ball will go on for some hours yet, so they’ll all have a chance to dance with him.”
Her cousin lounged back in the seat, as though exhausted. “Don’t pretend you are unaffected by his appearance at your side tonight. I saw the look on your face when he introduced himself to me. And when he realized who you were.”
Sophie untied her mask and placed it in her lap. “I kissed him, Isabelle. I kissed him before he knew who I was.”
Her cousin’s mouth dropped open. Isabelle practically jumped on her lap, shaking her in her own excitement to know more. “When did that happen? Where was I?”
“I went out for a moment of fresh air, and he was suddenly there. He just sort of found me standing there, trying to hide against the wall. I’m sure I made a sorry sight.”
Isabelle squealed. “You kissed the Duke of Helmsworth and we are running away from the ball? I’m of a right mind to turn this carriage around and head back right this second. This could be the moment you’ve wanted for so long . . .”
“We will do no such thing. Remember we were never here tonight.”
“So what if we were?”
“One, there is no guarantee the duke will propose marriage to anyone tonight. Two, I cannot face my stepmother if she finds out what I’ve done. I have never had a coming out, if you’ll recall.”
“Do you really think that if the Duke of Helmsworth proposed marriage, your stepmother would say no?”
“I do.” Sophie rubbed her hands over her face, feeling suddenly tired and exhausted from their night out. “I just want to find my bed and hold this memory for as long as I can.”
THE MINX HAD left. Adrian wasn’t sure when, only that she was nowhere to be found after the next four dances, during which he had banal conversations about the weather and, of all things, the eggnog being served. He thought maybe the lady had imbibed a little too freely.
It had been two hours since his waltz with Sophie. He couldn’t blame her for leaving, but he had hoped she would remain, that they could pass the rest of the evening with conversation that seemed to flow naturally between them. Perhaps that was because of their shared past, or perhaps Sophie was the exact woman he was looking for.
Damn it. This was not how he wanted the night to end.
He found his uncle after midnight, standing watch over the crowd, which grew more obnoxious the longer they stayed.
“How many rooms will we have to make up tonight?” Adrian asked, watching the revelers below.
“A dozen or so. They are being made up now.”
“Would you consider tonight a success? Would my father be proud of this Christmas ball?”
“I did not see you holding out the mistletoe.”
Adrian turned away from his uncle so he wouldn’t see the smile lighting Adrian’s face. “I still have another week before Christmas.”
“Tonight was your chance.”
“Leave this with me, Uncle. I will not let my father down just yet. Will you ensure all the revelers not staying the night are gone by three?” he asked, already turning to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I have an errand to run.”
Before his uncle could ask him to explain, he excused himself and went in search of his valet. First, he needed to change out of his evening attire, second, he needed to find out where Miss Isabelle Kinsley resided. Surely Sophie was staying with her cousin, since they had come to the ball together.
Adrian wasted no time in readying a mount—it was too late to wake one of the stable boys, and besides, the fewer the people in the household who knew his purpose, the better.
Isabelle Kinsley’s cottage was five miles away, and easy enough to find. It held a two-story house made of red brick, with evenly spaced, lead-paned windows on both levels.
There was one tried-and-tested method that would have to do in figuring out which room Sophie was staying in.
Adrian went in search of some rocks, hoping luck would have him finding Sophie’s room before he woke anyone else in the house.
Chapter Five
THERE WAS AN incessant noise tapping at Sophie’s window, like a bird trying to find its way in. She cracked her eyes open. She yawned and stretched under the multitude of blankets she’d buried herself beneath when she’d climbed into bed. Sophie closed her eyes, so tired she couldn’t remember why she wanted to wake up.
Tap, tap, tap sounded again at her window.
She threw off her blankets and reached for her dressing robe at the end of the bed. Slipping her arms into the heavy material, she stumbled toward the window and stubbed her toe on the bottom of a chair. She fell into the seat with a curse.
Tap. Tap.
The door to her bedchamber creaked open. “Are you awake, Sophie?”
Her cousin entered her room, quickly shutting and locking the door behind her.
“I am awake now.” She glanced in the direction of the tapping, which had ceased for a moment. “It sounds as though someone is throwing rocks at the window.”
“That’s because that is precisely what is happening.” Isabelle went over to the window, released the latch that kept it locked, and started to lift it.
“Come over here and help me, would you?”
Sophie made it to her feet and helped her cousin. “Are you going to tell me what is happening right now?”
“You, my dearest cousin, have a visitor.”
“Adrian.” He wouldn’t dare . . . would he?
“You’re on a first-name basis, are you? I had no idea it was as serious as this.”
“You’re reading too much into it. The Duke of Helmsworth would not throw rocks against my window. That little troublemaker Adrian of Helmsworth most certainly would.”
“Ouch,” her cousin squawked when she stuck her head out the window. She pulled away and rubbed at her cheek.
“Sorry, Miss Kinsley,” Sophie heard the duke whisper none too quietly beneath her bedchamber window.
Sophie pulled her cousin away from the opening and inspected her cheek in the moonlight. Isabelle’s soft skin only appeared to be reddened by the impact of the rock, but Sophie leaned out the window with what she hoped was a disapproving look.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Perhaps my heart, my fair lady.”
“You have gone mad.”
“I need to speak with you rather urgently.”
“Hush,” she hissed, afraid he would wake up the house. “Come around the servants’ entrance, I’ll open the back door for you.”
“Like a thief in the night.”
“Much worse, I’m afraid.” She ducked her head back into her room and shut the window. Turning to Isabelle, she said, “You told him which room I was in, didn’t you? That’s why you are here.”
“He seems so sincere. Hear him out, Sophie.”
“That’s what I’m going below stairs to do, isn’t it?”
Her cousin wisely chose not to respond, but she practically grinned ear to ear. So
phie only shook her head.
“Wait,” Isabelle said and tried to pluck the mobcap from Sophie’s head.
Sophie stepped to the side. “I don’t care if I look like an old maid right now, Isabelle. He should have had the decency to call in the morning.”
“The gesture wouldn’t be nearly as romantic had he done that.”
Sophie shook her head as she opened her chamber door, peeking around the corner to make sure the tap of rocks on glass had awakened no one else. As luck would have it, not a soul stirred in the house. All was quiet, except for the fanning of her cousin’s breath on the back of her neck.
Sophie turned to Isabelle. “I’m going down alone.”
“What if he should try to take advantage of you?”
Sophie gave her cousin a droll look. “I will knock him on the head with the rolling pin Cook keeps out. I will be all right, Isabelle. Had you not wanted this outcome, you should have told him to leave and come back tomorrow.”
“Then we wouldn’t be up to a grand adventure.”
Sophie rolled her eyes and slipped down the hall, her cousin two steps behind her. Once they were outside Isabelle’s bedchamber, Sophie swung the door open and gave her cousin a warning glance. Her cousin’s shoulders sagged, but she resigned herself to ending her adventure here and went inside, shutting the door behind her.
Sophie tiptoed down the stairs and through the house. No one was awake, which told her it was far too early to be out of bed after their night out.
She contemplated not opening the kitchen door, but gave in after a whole two minutes.
“I thought you’d changed your mind,” he said, sounding amused, though the expression on his face was one of worry.
“Tempting as that was, I didn’t feel like listening to you throw rocks at my window all night.”
A rush of cold winter air came in with Adrian, and she stepped back, chilled to the bone. Embers from an earlier fire burned in the hearth, so she made her way toward the warmth and let Adrian close the door behind him. He took off his hat and set it on the kitchen table.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“The ball was a dreadful bore without you to enjoy it with me.”
“Surely you’ve attended enough of those types of functions to have found a set of friends to best pass the time with.”
“I have attended a few mandatory balls and danced with a few debutantes in my day, but aside from that, I prefer more intimate gatherings.”
“So why arrange a ball to find your bride?”
“As I said earlier tonight, my father demanded it.”
“Your father passed away last year. How can he demand anything?”
“My inheritance is locked in trust until I marry.”
“I wondered why you would look for a bride at a ball. When did your father want you to marry by?”
“Christmas. Before then, if at all possible. He had hoped I would announce who my fiancée was at the ball, but I hadn’t picked her yet.”
Sophie stopped rubbing her hands together and raised one eyebrow in his direction.
“You can’t seriously be asking me.”
He pulled off his heavy winter coat and settled it around a chair.
“I am.”
“Adrian—” She sighed, not sure what to say.
He reached for her hand and pulled her closer. She stood in the circle of his arms, much like she had when they’d kissed earlier. “We were once the best of friends. That is as strong a foundation as any in a good marriage.”
“I told you I cannot marry. My stepmother will not allow it until her daughter is wed.” And even if that day should come, she doubted her stepmother would ever consider Sophie’s feelings.
Adrian made a derisive sound in his throat. “Do you think she’ll refuse me?”
Sophie stepped out of his embrace and lowered her head. “I know she will. Her greatest accomplishment in life, which she has told me on many occasions, has been stripping the wild out of me. She did not even present me to society when I came of age. I’m to remain her companion for the rest of her days. She will not give her permission in any union I should attempt to make.”
“I can be rather persuasive.”
She reached for his face and rested her palm on his cheek. Stubble had started to form along his jaw. She rubbed her fingers through the short scruff, liking the new sensation.
“We haven’t known each other for fifteen years, Adrian.”
“Yet you address me familiarly.”
She lowered her hand. “Old habits. You should go before we are discovered.”
“You seem to think that would be a bad thing.”
“Please, don’t make this any harder on me. If my stepmother finds out about any of this . . . let’s just say it will be awhile before I see the light of day again.”
Adrian’s brow furrowed, but he did not back up; he approached her, his hand outstretched so he could tug her braid where it fell over her left shoulder. It was a gesture he’d done on so many occasions when they were children that it struck a deep chord in Sophie, and she swayed a little closer. He released the braid to rub his knuckles along her cheek more intimately.
“Aren’t you willing to fight for what we felt earlier?”
“It was one kiss,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t have done it.”
“I don’t regret it, not for one second.”
Sophie turned away so he was no longer touching her.
“You shouldn’t say such things.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
That caught her attention. Her gaze slammed into his with a smoldering intensity that caused her breath to hitch.
“How?”
“Kiss me again, prove it meant nothing to you.”
“I do not think that’s wise.”
“I think it’s the best decision I have made all night.”
He caught her hand again, and this time, he pulled her right into him, giving her ample time to step away, but she was curious about his theory. Could their next kiss hold as much passion as their last? Would it feel the same? Would it be all-consuming?
Her lips parted before his even touched hers. As his face slanted over hers, neither closed their eyes, focusing on each other as they drew nearer and nearer, until finally, the soft give of his mouth molded around her lips, parting them, sucking them into his mouth. She licked at his lips, because it felt like the most natural thing to do. She felt silly standing in the middle of the kitchen meeting clandestinely with the Duke of Helmsworth.
But Adrian didn’t seem to care—his only goal was giving her a kiss she would never forget. There were kisses like the one they’d shared at twelve, there were first kisses like the one they had shared in the maze, and there were kisses that made your heart swell and your body heat up in need, like hers did now. This was a need she had never before felt the likes of in all her life. Her breasts felt heavy, her lungs seemed as though they lacked air . . .
She no longer wanted to be wearing her heaviest and warmest dressing robe—or her mobcap, for that matter. She wanted to be closer to him, feel his warmth infusing her body. Adrian’s tongue slipped into her mouth and twisted around hers. The move was sensual and far more erotic than it had been in the maze. Their bodies were pressed tightly together along the front, Adrian’s hand resting against her hip, keeping her steady when she wanted to rub up against him.
She wore only a few layers of cotton and cambric; there were no stays or bindings to get between them. She wanted the heat of his skin against hers.
What was she thinking?
She tore her mouth away from his, her lips swollen and wet, and tasting slightly of mint. She placed her hand on the kitchen table to steady herself, and to keep herself from flying back into his arms. What in the world had gotten into her? She usually had bette
r control over her emotions than this.
One kiss was all it seemed to take to awaken some sort of succubus inside her.
“Sophie, say something.”
“I don’t know what to say. Is it always like that?” She was panting. Panting!
“Only with you.”
Right answer. But that put her in a bit of a predicament.
“This does not change the fact that my stepmother will never give her approval.”
“Then leave with me. We’ll obtain a marriage license in the morning.”
“The scandal . . .”
“I suspect it would make my father proud that I found a bride on his terms.”
She gave a weak smile. He was likely right in that regard.
“Do you really wish to marry me, or do you only want to save your estate?”
“I’m a greedy man. I pick both. But if I had to choose, Sophie, you’re the one gamble I would take.”
“Do you think we can make it to Gretna Green?”
Adrian chuckled. “I think you read too many novels. We’re three hundred miles away from Scotland. No, what I have in mind will have us married much sooner than a week from today. Are you saying you agree to be my wife?”
“Tell me what happens if I say yes.”
“We will leave for my residence in London. There are too many people staying on at Helmsworth Estate this evening. I’m sure half of them are still dancing and feasting in the ballroom. And I’m not willing to share you with anyone until we are married.”
She chewed on her lower lip, contemplating the offer. Knowing that for one moment in her life, she wanted only to think about herself and what she wanted. “When?”
“Now.”
“Now?” she said in a squeaky voice. But it made sense; they would have to act quickly. If her stepmother ever became the wiser, she would find a way to drive a wedge between Sophie and the duke.
“Get a change of clothes. We can be in London before morning.”
“I have to tell Isabelle.”
Sophie opened the door, and her cousin fell into the room with a screech.
All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke Page 13
