Sophia’s mouth dropped open in shock. He had clearly done this before, many times by the looks of his expertise.
Brendon nearly choked at her delightfully amazed expression. He swallowed his mouthful and took another sip of his tea.
“Though I draw the line at drinking my tea from the saucer, there is some skill to dunking a biscuit. A lot depends on the consistency of the pastry, of course, but I have seen many gentlemen try to master such a decadent feat and fail. Perhaps you should try it.” He raised a challenging eyebrow.
Eyes wide in astonishment, Sophia quickly shook her head.
“I think I will leave such delights to you men. I would probably end up with said soggy pastry all down my cleavage.” She blushed as she remembered the wine at the inn.
Brendon shifted in his seat and thought of anything, everything but that delectable, tea soaked biscuit finding its way between the luscious curves of her breasts, and his tongue following it soon after. It didn’t work. His mind filled with her, the scent of her, the heat of her body even now reaching him across the small table. Before the balustrade fell, he had been about to kiss her, to taste those perfect lips, to gather her into his arms and ravish her until the sun dipped from the sky and the moon rose into the heavens.
The curtain drifted in the air wafting through the open window; the drawing room door creaked closed, shutting them inside a quiet corner of the house. A wild need rose in him, something he had never experienced before, a feeling he could barely contain. Desire! It surged through every part of his body, leaving him weak and fighting his natural lust.
Lust? The word sent tendrils of revulsion through him, wiping out the more pleasant sensations. Desire was one thing, lust quite another. And he had never confused the two. A sudden recollection of watching Sophia’s own father, grunting and groaning while he thrust vigorously into the sobbing nursery maid, instantly poured cold water on Brendon’s ardour.
He stood quickly and tugged his shirt to straighten the creases.
“We should go and look at your room. If there is even the remotest sign of any danger, you can sleep in my chambers while I will take the settee down here. It will only be for a night or two.” His voice came out gruffer than he intended, but the visions of her rutting father had affected him deeply. The secretive nature of the tryst, the animalistic sounds, the vile way the man had treated Bessie. Even the dishonour shown to Lady Barclay, who sat delightfully unaware, as vivid in his imagination as it was when he had seen it happen! He shuddered almost uncontrollably, and Sophia reached out and lay her hand on his arm.
“Are you all right, Brendon? You have gone terribly pale.”
Her voice drifted up at him and he shook the horrible memory away.
“Yes,” he croaked before clearing his throat. “Shock just hit me, I think. Mr. Dodds has been more than fortunate. I must see that nothing like it happens again.” Another wave of responsibility smothered his other feelings. A man could have died! He looked down as she curled her fingers around his elbow. Strong, reassuring. She gazed up at him trustingly.
“Well, let us go and make sure that it doesn’t. Tell me what I must look for and we can do the job together.” She tugged gently at his arm.
He stared at her incredulously. What was she thinking! Did she ever suppose that he was about to risk her life too? Brendon growled.
“No. You are not to come anywhere near that balcony. I forbid it.” She bristled at his side. A tiny warrior, filled with pluck and spirit. No wonder she had survived years of hardship and adversity.
She suddenly glowered up at him.
“You don’t have to treat me like a child, Brendon. I wasn’t going to jump up and down on the thing. Besides it is not as if it can fall through. I believe it sits directly above this room and I can see no sign of damage to this ceiling. It must only be the perimeter stonework that has come loose.”
He saw the sense in her argument but wasn’t about to see her placed in any danger. Perhaps a compromise would keep her happy.
“You will let me look first. I insist.” He deliberately calmed his tone. “Please, Sophia. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt because of my neglect.” The last thing he wanted was Sophia storming into danger because he had been pigheaded with her.
She sighed, wondering when it had become nice to be protected and worried over. Most of her life she had to be strong and self-reliant. This new feeling warmed her very soul.
“Of course. I only want to help, not hinder you.”
He tucked her hand into his side as they walked up the stairs.
“Thank you. It is my hope that this is just a simple fault with the masonry. Frost damage perhaps, or perhaps the ivy has eaten away at the joint. I did pull a lot of it away from the house and could have loosened the stone.” He didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. He opened the door to the master suite and strode towards the tall, glass doors onto the balcony. “I believe this part of the house was added after the original was built. My father wanted to take advantage of the morning sunshine. He and mother often breakfasted out here while Felicity and I had to eat in the nursery.” He stepped out and walked around the edge of the terrace. Dry leaves had drifted into corners. He dragged them away with his booted foot and peered closely at the joints between the stone; sometimes testing their stability by pushing or pulling.
It was only as he reached the gaping three-foot wide gap that he squatted down and ran his fingers over the broken edges. There were definite marks of a bolster hitting the stone. He swivelled and looked above his father’s bedroom. Another story of guest rooms and then the servant’s quarters sat directly above, but with a whole floor separating the residents it might have been impossible for anyone to hear any sounds of sabotage.
A delicate footstep had him turn back towards his father’s bedroom. Sophia stood in the fading sunlight just outside the window.
“Is it safe?” She asked before taking another step.
He nodded and pointed to the gutter that emptied through a shallow trough at the point where he squatted.
“I think it must have been localised water damage. See, the drain runs through here. I suspect it became blocked with leaves during the winter and the water froze, expanding the joint.” He pointed to the gutter running across the balcony floor. No point in alarming the woman with tales of sabotage and potential murder. “If you stay away from this section, you should be fine.”
She came and leaned over the edge a few feet away from the gap.
“My! It is a long way down...” her voice faded as she swayed suddenly and Brendon was instantly at her side.
“Sophia! What’s wrong? Are you ill?” He cried in alarm, but she didn’t answer. Her eyes rolled up as her lips turned grey and she swooned against him. She was but a feather in his arms as he scooped her up and carried her back inside towards the huge bed. He lay her down as gently as possible and rushed to bring water from his own room. He bathed her forehead and the insides of her wrists. A few moments later her eyelids fluttered open and she struggled to rise.
“Brendon!” Her frightened wail had him sitting on the edge of the bed while taking hold of her hand.
“It is all right. I have you safe.” He pulled her against him, cradling the back of her head with his hand. “Shh, you are fine. I think you are afraid of heights and you had an attack of vertigo. Hush and you will be well again.” His fingers slipped into the cascades of her hair as he rocked her.
She breathed against the column of his throat. Spice, fresh grass, and man. Her hands drifted around to his back. Still damp with perspiration, his shirt clung to his frame. What was she doing? She shouldn’t hold a man like this. But she couldn’t stop herself. Her fingertips searched out the unfamiliar muscles.
Brendon sat ramrod stiff as her fingers explored. Lord! She couldn’t know what she did to him. Her touch was more than he ever dared to hope for, but it wasn’t right. She wouldn’t be doing this if she had any sense at all. He leaned back slightly an
d gently slid his hands down her arms, pulling them away from him.
“Sophia, you have to stop. You know not what you do.” His voice was a breath against her hair, thinking that they were the hardest words to have ever left his lips. He didn’t want her to stop, didn’t want her to cease her exploration. He wanted her to pull his shirt from his breeches and run her nails down his spine. He wanted her to place her lips on the column of his throat. He wanted...So badly.
She lifted her chin and blinked up at him, her dark eyes uncomprehending as her hands dropped to her sides and her cheeks turned scarlet.
“I am so sorry. I, I...” She couldn’t speak. What had she been doing?
He patted her hand and stood up quickly.
“No, it is quite all right. I understand completely. The shock...” His own voice drifted away as he looked back at her. Her hair was a mussed mass of curls, her eyes held an emotion he couldn’t name, and her lips trembled as the tip of her tongue reached out and touched them. Dear God! If he didn’t leave the room right now he would be on her. He took another step away. “I’ll fetch Anna and Mrs. Lawson. They can help you to mother’s bedroom.” He backed away towards the door.
Sophia stared after him as the heavy oak closed behind him. What had she done? She buried her face in her hands as shame filled her. She had been clawing at him like some gutter harlot, begging for attention that he clearly didn’t want to give. She would never live down the humiliation of it.
But she had to. There was no way anyone was going to see her in this ridiculous manner. She swivelled to the side and placed her feet back upon the floor. Well, she wasn’t going to wait for Mrs. Lawson to discover her lying in Lord Spencer’s bed. She tested her equilibrium and found that she had no ill effects. It was but a short walk to the door connecting the bedrooms and she quickly made her way next door.
Mrs. Lawson and Anna appeared a few moments later.
“Master Brendon said that you were lying down after a faint.” The older lady cast her eyes over her charge.
Sophia walked to the window and looked out.
“Just a little queasy as I looked over the balcony, but only for a second. Brendon thinks women truly are the weaker sex and is prone to exaggeration.” She crossed her fingers in the skirts of her gown as she glanced over her shoulder.
Mrs. Lawson’s eyes narrowed, but she said no more on the subject.
“Well, if you insist you are all right. Anna has already unpacked your things and brought washing water. If you want to change for dinner, I’ll be serving in an hour in the dining room. It will be nice for his Lordship to have some company for a change.” She bobbed a curtsey and left the room.
Sophia sighed in relief and pressed her hand to her heart. It still leapt violently, but with due cause. The heat filtering through his shirt had been something she hadn’t expected. So intoxicating, so tantalizing. The way his muscles had rolled beneath his skin. Had she even known that Brendon had muscles? Of course she did, but she had never considered them so intimately before. They were far harder than she imagined, bunched beneath her fingertips, rippling then tensing as her hands had drifted across them. Had he been affected by her touch? Was that why he had wanted to escape?
Her thoughts whirled in her head. Confusion, desire, passion? Too many questions.
A sudden cough startled her. Anna stared at her, so quiet, Sophia had forgotten the young woman was even there.
“Shall I pour your washing water, your Ladyship?” Anna’s voice was barely a whisper again.
Sophia came down from her dizzying heights. She was over thinking things. Making something out of a simple situation. Brendon had done nothing more than carry her to the bed when she fainted. It meant nothing. The way he had rocked her, had massaged her head, had held her against his chest, none of it meant a thing. It was simply what any caring gentleman would do to comfort a lady in distress. She straightened her shoulders and gave her full attention to her new ladies maid.
“Yes, thank you Anna. The excitement of the afternoon has taken its toll. I should be glad to freshen up.”
Anna gave a tiny smile, poured some water into the bowl, and placed a small square of gardenia scented soap beside it.
Chapter Twelve
The Bearing of a Gentleman
“You didn’t have to come back with me, Brendon. We did find our way here by ourselves.” Sophia moved her skirts away from the toes of his boots as she sat with Anna who huddled in the corner of the carriage.
Brendon crossed his feet at the ankles and relaxed back against the squabs. At least with the day being so warm they could have the window open. Her scent wasn’t quite as maddening as it might have been. He shifted again, wondering why he was putting himself through this torture. He told himself it was because his back ached and he was beyond tired, but he knew it wasn’t true. He simply wanted to look at her for as long as possible before she was back with her brother and he returned to Fallows. Not that he would ever tell her that.
“Am I not allowed to visit my sister? Besides, apart from giving me a much needed break from gardening, she might want me to take more of her nursery back with me. I seem to have most of it already, why not have the lot?” he smiled, taking the edge off his sarcasm.
Sophia managed a laugh even while worrying the lace of her handkerchief. Did Brendon suspect anything amiss with their scheme? Probably not. He was a man after all and they didn’t tend to see what was right in front of their faces. She stilled her nerves and changed the subject.
“Well, I thank you for your hospitality last night. The dinner was excellent.”
Brendon nodded and stifled a yawn as he tried to convince himself that the gardening had tired him out, not his lack of sleep.
“Mrs. Lawson is an excellent cook. I’m lucky that she can still manage with all her other duties.”
Sophia considered his reply. Fallows was a big house even if Brendon was currently only using a small part of it.
“Will you employ more staff soon? The house is large and it must be far too much for her alone, especially if you are going to begin to live there permanently.” She kept her voice steady while her heart pounded with concern. If Brendon moved to Fallows and she returned to London, she might never see him again. She scolded herself for her foolishness. He had turned down her obvious advances the afternoon before, innocent though they had been, and he had been the soul of propriety during dinner. Perhaps he pined for his mistress. Sophia almost winced at the near physical pain tearing at her heart, but if Angelique was who he thought of, what did it matter if he should move to Fallows? He would probably install the woman in his home as soon as he had brought it back to some semblance of order. The tearing worsened considerably at the thought and Sophia stared out of the window, determined not to let her face give away her thoughts.
Brendon frowned as his own thoughts swirled. Fallows was beautiful, the air fresh, and the surroundings calm. He had not expected to like it there so much, but just a few days of hard work had made a huge difference to both him and the house. He knew that it would be a comfortable home once again, but could he live there permanently? Alone? His eyes drifted over Sophia and his heart thundered wildly. If only he could live there with her, but it wasn’t to be. She had been civil over the last few hours, but he knew that meant nothing. He remembered her words of the previous year far too clearly. She didn’t want to be with him, would never marry him.
Holding her after her attack of vertigo would probably be the closest they would ever be again, though the whole of the previous evening had been pure torture.
His eyes had almost popped from their sockets when she came down to dinner in the most revealing of gowns, and he recognized it instantly as the dress his sister had worn at his and Algernon’s leaving party. More hand-downs? It appeared to fit Sophia more snugly than it had his sister and he found it impossible to keep his eyes above the neckline.
Even if the dress hadn’t been of a sheer, almost clinging material, her satin smooth
shoulders lured his eyes lower, down her slender arms and across to the tops of her pillowy soft breasts. The dinner might have been excellent, but he hadn’t tasted a mouthful of it, his mind consumed by hunger of another sort.
She tempted him beyond all reasonable endurance and after eventually leaving the table and escaping her tantalizing presence for his bed, he had tossed and turned the whole night through. As if that wasn’t enough, every time he closed his eyes he relived the moment he almost kissed her before the balcony fell, the minutes she ran her hands all over his back after her attack of vertigo. And knowing that she slept only yards away, possibly naked beneath those crisp linen sheets, her bountiful hair cascading over the pillows, had him almost clawing at the walls.
He cleared his throat, and forced his mind back to their present conversation.
“I’m not sure I will be there permanently, but for the next couple of months I can’t see myself going very far. I have said to my father that I will take over the responsibility of it and that’s what I mean to do, but I am going to try and stick with the staff I have at the moment. Molly and Alfred are of some help. Though Molly still needs a lot of training. I swear I only ever slept in such a rumpled bed at the Kings Arms. When Mrs. Lawson does the sheets you can fairly bounce off them, they are pulled so straight and tight.” He stifled another yawn.
Sophia giggled. She knew exactly what he meant. It had taken her almost ten minutes to tug the covers free enough to actually slide between them the previous evening.
“At least you have James. He seems to know what he is doing. It was good of him to come today too, though I think he will worry over his mother until he goes home again. She seemed to be in some distress over his accompanying us.” She glanced over at Anna and noticed that the young woman’s cheeks had flushed at the groom’s name.
Brendon nodded back at her.
“Yes, she begged that he would not come, but I’m afraid that I had to insist. Atlas needed the exercise and I am too sore to ride him. With clearing the garden and other urgent matters of business, I have neglected my mount sorely since my arrival at Fallows, but I am impressed with the way James handles the beast’s temperament. Not many others could ride him as well.”
A Promise of Pure Gardenias Page 13
