An Ideal Husband? (15 page)

‘Makes perfect sense why he retreated,’ Richard said with mock gravity.

She laughed, a happy unaffected laugh, her face glowing with pride at her accomplishment. He wanted to swing her up in his arms in front of everyone and kiss her soundly. She had come so far in the past few weeks. Cawburn hadn’t destroyed her. He fought to keep his arms at his sides.

She ducked her head and spoke to the ground. ‘You have no idea how competitive girls can be at sport.’

‘I can well imagine.’

Before she replied, the team came up and surrounded her, blocking his view of her face. Their cheers rang out throughout the ground, but Richard wanted to murder each and every one of them. Sophie should be his and his alone. And he would do everything in his power to claim her.

S
ophie sighed happily, leaned back against the horsehair seat in Richard’s carriage and closed her eyes as the carriage started off from the cricket ground in Jesmond.

The day had gone perfectly from start to finish. She knew it wasn’t strictly proper, but she had adored having the rest of the team crowd around her, congratulating her on her skill at batting. Mr Armstrong had asked her to play the next time. Sophie declined with a laugh, but it felt good to be asked. Richard had been very silent while this was happening, glowering in particular at Mr Armstrong as if in truth he were a jealous fiancé, instead of a pretend one.

She gave a sideways glance at Richard. Was it possible to fall in love with someone after only
a few short weeks? Or was it simply the heady romance of the moment? Finally, after so many years, to be free of the guilt and the shame of that one night?

It would be easy to start to depend on Richard, but it also would be a huge mistake. Once Robert and Henri returned, Richard would go out of her life for ever. All this pleasantness would be mere memories.

‘I was sorry not to say goodbye to Miss Grayson,’ she said, putting the thought from her mind. ‘I looked for her after the match, but she had gone.’

‘Who?’ Richard sat bolt upright next to her, suddenly alert.

Sophie shivered and made a show of straightening her gloves.

‘The lady I told you about when I met you on the way out to the crease. She was pleasant and bubbly. She had just become engaged to the bowler who took your wicket, the one I hit for six.’

‘Ah, the one with the brother. You told me about her when you went to the crease.’ There was a new note to his voice, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘Was there some reason you brought her up again?’

‘Yes.’ She turned towards him and leant forwards.
His eyes watched her much as a cat might watch a mouse. Her hand toyed with the collar of her blouse and his eyes followed her hand as if he wanted to touch her there. An awareness of him filled her.

A sudden recklessness filled her. The fearful Sophie would have ignored it, but the new Sophie, the one who dared play cricket with gentlemen and win, wanted to test her theory. He was not indifferent to her. He had been jealous earlier.

‘I wondered if her brother was at the match. Do you think anyone could be as good as Miss Grayson painted this man? Such a paragon of virtue and apparently extremely handsome,’ she added for good measure, embellishing the story.

‘Does it matter what he looks like?’ Richard’s face became very stern. ‘Speculation does no one any favours. You of all people should know that by now.’

‘You never know.’ Sophie toyed with her gloves, straightening the seams, rather than looking at him. Every fibre of her being was aware of him and the way he glowered. He was jealous, she realised with a start. ‘They live in Newcastle. We must travel in the same social circles. I wish I could figure out why I thought
at first I must know her from somewhere. I felt we could be friends. It is all most peculiar.’

‘Leave it, Sophie. You are unlikely to encounter this lady again … if you haven’t encountered her before.’ His voice held a certain finality. Sophie twisted her engagement ring. It was amazing how it felt part of her now. She had become accustomed to wearing it. She gave a soft sigh. But she had no right to it, not like Miss Grayson and her ring. Hers was a lie from start to finish, doomed to end in three weeks at the outside.

After today, she must refuse his invitations or else her heart would be seriously involved. And he wouldn’t be jealous. Jealousy only happened if feelings were involved.

‘I suppose you are right,’ she said as a pang ran through her. No more conversations. No more gentle teasing. No more cricket matches. ‘I was simply curious. It intrigued me, that’s all. To have a sister that devoted. She swore that the only reason she was engaged was down to him.’

Richard’s voice became even colder. ‘I am sure he is not worth wondering about.’

She turned towards him, surprised. Normally he encouraged her to talk about people and make observations. ‘Is there some problem? You were quiet during the celebrations afterwards.’

‘I don’t like the thought of you wondering about men when you are engaged to me.’

He regarded her with a fierce expression. Sophie’s heart thumped and her lips tingled. He was jealous! Truly jealous of an unknown man, simply because she’d expressed an interest in that man. Her earlier instincts were correct. A heady sense of power coursed through her veins. He did feel something for her. Maybe they would not have to part for ever. Maybe it could blossom into something more. Maybe the romance was real, instead of pretend.

She wanted him to kiss her. Thoroughly and completely. Here in the carriage where no one could see. She wanted to see if his kisses were different when feelings were involved. And he would if she pushed him a bit further. The knowledge thudded through her, making her limbs feel weak.

She felt as if she was playing with fire, but that only served to make her feel more reckless. She could do anything she set her mind to. She had hit that six and won the game!

One single kiss to end a perfect day. She was safe with Richard. She trusted him to stop when she said so and she did know the boundaries.

The knowledge thrummed through her. She loved him and she wanted to pretend that she
was worthy of experiencing romance in the same way Miss Grayson had. She wanted to prove once and for all time that she wasn’t like those names Sebastian had called her. She wanted to believe for a little while that this romance was real. She could risk one kiss without endangering her reputation.

She tilted her chin in the air and lowered her lashes.

‘Strictly speaking we are not engaged nor are we ever likely to be. We are merely using it as a convenience to stop untoward comment. Therefore I can speculate all I like. My heart belongs to no man.’

The blood raced through her veins and she hoped that he would not see her blatant lie. But she knew she had to provoke him.

He gave a soft curse and pulled her firmly into his arms. His lips lowered and captured hers.

Where his other kisses had been gentle and coaxing, this one was possessive and demanding. It seemed as though he wanted to brand her. A warm thrill went through her and she yielded up her mouth to his, opening under his onslaught, tasting the interior of his mouth. Their tongues tangled, retreated and then met again.

The warmth became a wildfire and she knew
she wanted more than this one kiss. Her body desired his touch. She arched forwards, bringing her arm about his neck and holding his head against hers as their mouths continued to do battle.

His arms pulled her tight, knocking her straw hat down to the floor. He rained little kisses on her face, nibbling and caressing her as if that one touch had unlocked the floodgates of passion. With each new touch, her heart beat faster and she knew she had to have more. She had been wrong to think that one kiss would satisfy her.

Sophie dug her hands in his hair and felt its silky smoothness against her fingers and brought his mouth back to hers. She opened her mouth and took him fully inside, and suckled, allowing her instinct to guide her.

Her breasts grew full and strained against her corset, causing her blouse to choke her. She tugged impatiently at it, seeking relief from its constriction, squirming against Richard’s chest. He clasped her to him, preventing her from moving.

‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘My blouse, it’s choking me. Far too tight.’

‘Allow me to help.’

‘Yes.’

His hand roamed down her back, stopping on
the tiny buttons and then skimming upwards. Her body arched forwards.

‘Please,’ he growled in her ear. ‘Let me.’

All she could do was nod. His hands started to undo the blouse. Her blouse immediately loosened and he slipped his hand under the fabric, sending little licks of fire coursing through her body as he stroked her skin and his mouth tugged at her earlobe. Her body arched forwards. This was what she had been longing for—his touch. It felt so right and necessary.

His fingers moved ever lower, reaching her breast. One finger brushed her nipple, turning it to a hardened point. With the other hand, he pushed the material down on to her arms so that the tops of her breasts were exposed.

Slowly he lowered his mouth, placing tiny kisses on her throat until he reached her breast. He tilted the breast so that the dark-rose nipple just peaked out and captured it, running his tongue over it. Again and again he circled until it hardened to a tight point.

She moaned in the back of her throat as stars exploded around her. Her body surged upwards and she knew she had to have more. She wanted to feel his skin beneath her fingers. She wanted to see if her dreams were real.

She reached out and stroked his chest. Her
hands went to his neckcloth and started to undo it. She wanted to see if the strong column of his throat was as soft as his face.

Instantly he froze. His hands went to hers and stilled them. He lifted his head and looked at her with dark passion-filled eyes.

‘No,’ he said in a ragged voice. ‘Say it, Sophie.’

‘No?’ she whispered. Surely he couldn’t mean to stop. Her body wanted—no, needed his touch. She wanted to touch him like he had touched her. ‘Why not?’

‘Just say it. Like you mean it. You must, Sophie!’

‘No! Richard—’

He put two fingers against her aching lips and shook his head, before flopping back against the cushion. ‘Because I refuse to have your first time be a frantic coupling in a carriage.’

Sophie looked down at her naked breasts. They puckered slightly in the cold air now that his mouth wasn’t on them. Exposed. Lewd and wanton. All the words she’d been called before.

She quickly crossed her arms over them. The delicate fabric of the blouse tore, a loud ripping sound which seemed to signal her reputation was equally torn and shredded.

She struggled to get the words out. ‘My first time?’

His eyes were heavy-lidded with passion.

‘You do know what passes between a man and a woman, Sophie.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Her cheeks burnt. It was all the worse for the gentleness of his tone. He thought her completely ignorant in the ways of men. Another man would have taken advantage of her, but not Richard. She straightened her shoulders. ‘We whispered about it at school, and one of the girls had
Aristotle’s Compleat Masterpiece
.’

‘How did she get it?’

‘She had borrowed it from her father’s library and sneaked it back after the Christmas break. We passed it from girl to girl until Miss Denton found it and destroyed it. She would have expelled the girl, but her grandfather was an earl.’ Sophie gave an uneasy laugh. Talking made it easier to forget what she had nearly done, how she was truly wicked rather than good. Her last few years of keeping herself aloof had been for nothing. She forced a soft laugh which sounded far too throaty. ‘You would not have believed the uproar.’

‘But you read it first. You were not the sort
of girl to allow an opportunity like that to slip between her fingers.’

Sophie gave a reluctant nod. He seemed to know her young self so well. ‘It was full of astonishing information. I wanted to know. Thinking back, it probably was one of the reasons why I was such easy prey.’

‘You have a good instinct, Sophie. It is better to know than to be frightened.’ He reached out and pulled her over to him so that her head lay against his chest. The racing thud of his heart resounded in her ear. ‘You did the right thing. Cawburn took advantage of you and your good nature. Never stop believing that. You are delightful, innocent and very much a lady.’

She started to sit up, but he gently held her there with one hand, while the other moved her blouse up over her shoulders, straightening her costume with almost impersonal expertise.

‘Shush now, let me put you right. Nothing happened here that can’t be fixed. I am to blame, not you.’

His fingers neatly did up her back. He was probably used to playing the ladies’ maid, Sophie thought miserably.

He knew how this game was played and she had only heard rumours and read the book. She knew the theory and none of the practicalities.
She should feel better that he accepted the blame, but all she felt was hollow and depressed. Her inexperience had stopped him, not her virtue.

She’d hate herself later, but right now, even the impersonal touch of his putting her clothing to rights made her thrum with desire. She’d spent years denying what she was and now she knew.

When he had finished, he set her from him. His face was very serious, far more serious than she had ever seen it before.

‘If we continued on,’ he said in a low voice, ‘I would have been unable to stop. I was barely able to control myself as it was. You do understand how hard it can be to stop when two people desire each other, don’t you?’

‘I suppose you say it was all my fault. I should never have goaded you.’ The words tasted bitter in her mouth. He was going to behave precisely like Sebastian Cawburn. She had been wrong to think any differently. It was all her fault for allowing the romance to go to her head. She couldn’t be trusted. ‘And I should be grateful for your restraint. My behaviour must disgust you. It falls so far short of what is socially acceptable.’

He placed two fingers over her mouth and shook his head.

‘I want you, Sophie,’ he said slowly and patiently. ‘I have wanted you since the first time I held you in my arms. I want you more than I have ever wanted a woman. But not here and not like this. I want it done right. There is far too much at stake.’

‘You want me?’ she whispered. Her heart gave a little leap. She didn’t disgust him. He desired her. But desiring her didn’t mean he wanted to marry her or even that he cared about her.

‘Desperately.’ He took her hand and placed it on the front of his trousers. He was rigid beneath her palm. Her traitorous fingers itched to linger and trace the line of him.

Sophie jerked her hand back as if it had burnt her. She was all the words Sebastian had snarled at her—wanton, a cock-tease and worse. She had the soul of a loose woman. She had fought for years, trying to deny it, but she’d proved it in this carriage. She’d allowed her heart to overrule her common sense. She would have to take steps. They would have to end today.