Temptation Has Green Eyes (12 page)

Sophia had no idea why, but perhaps the way to entice him back was to make friends. Men disliked disturbance. Her father hated it. So undertake her duties cheerfully, support him, deal with her problems, and smile through it.

Not that she’d beg. She did that as much for her own pride as she did for him. She had her standards, and they didn’t include spending the day in idleness.

Max helped her into the carriage. “Is there anyone we should be talking to tonight?” she asked him, once she’d settled her skirts.

He was gazing at her. She shifted as her body heated uncomfortably.

“Ah…in what way?”

“You’re a businessman,” she reminded him.

He leaned back opposite her and crossed his legs. “So I am. No, there is nobody in particular. But it’s a big event, and there could be all manner of people there.” His attention sharpened. “One of the things I like about you is your intelligence.”

And here she was enjoying his powerful body and handsome features. Ah well, it was a start.

After seeing John at Ranelagh, Sophia had finally managed to get her experience with him into perspective. It had been the most unpleasant time of her life, but it had ended with no harm. Somehow she’d become stuck on it, made it more important than it should be, but now she could see it for what it was. A minor incident that had no bearing on whatever she chose to do with the rest of her life. Time to move on, to look forward to her new life.

“Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.”

The dim light of the carriage revealed no more than the glitter of his eyes. “Perhaps we may continue what we started in the hall tonight when we get home.”

Shock and pleasure held her frozen for a minute. As she opened her mouth to reply, the carriage drew up outside the house in Grosvenor Square where they were due to attend the ball.

Torchères were lit outside the houses on this side of the square, and as they descended, link boys rushed over to light their way. As if they had more than half a dozen steps to take. Sophia laid her hand on her husband’s arm, feeling a fraudster. She shouldn’t be here, with people treating her like a princess, wearing clothes that would keep a governess in funds for years. Not only did she have a maid, but her maid had an assistant.

Did anyone else here feel that way? As they went through to the brightly-illuminated hall, she glanced at the others present, who appeared nonchalant and careless. They would toss those exquisitely fashioned garments and fans at their servants and say they were tired of them. Sophia would be more likely to wear them until she’d worn them out. Not that she could, because after one season they were out of style. A waste, but as she knew only too well, a boon to the silk weavers of Spitalfields.

So many guests made the spacious hall appear small. Candles guttered in the sconces, filling the air with the aroma of hot beeswax and perfumes blended to a mixture of sweet and musky.

Max took the whole scene in at a glance. He assessed the people and put them into neat categories as she did when she sorted her papers into regulated stacks.

She had to release his arm to remove her hat and cloak, but she performed the office quickly, afraid he’d leave her to her own devices. He’d probably assumed she could cope perfectly, since she attended grand dinners and balls at the Mansion House or the Guildhall, but while the functions appeared similar, she found one big difference. She knew few people here well enough to chat to as she did those she’d grown up with. The people who worked in the City of London, that precious square mile that had held her whole life up to now.

This time he waited for her, finding someone to chat to while she disposed of her outer wear, and then came back to her, all attention.

Maybe tonight they would begin their marriage properly. Anticipation filled her stomach with flutters. Pleasurable ones. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the evening to end.

Upstairs the quartet was striking up for a minuet, and after sweeping her an exaggerated bow that made her smile, Max led her on to the floor.

The murmur of conversation surrounded them, and a hundred candles twinkled overhead. The floor was polished wood, and she wore a lovely gown. Cinderella she was not, but the magic of the occasion wasn’t lost on her.

Nobody paid them particular attention. The couples around them swayed gently like a field of flowers. The quartet played a tune Sophia had learned in the schoolroom, and she was hard put not to hum, as was her habit when she was happy.

Her husband gazed at her as they danced, and she had eyes only for him. She was being too fond, but she didn’t care. She’d had too few times like this in her life, when a man paid her so much attention, and that after a toe-melting kiss.

However long this lasted, she’d commit it to memory.

The dance was stately and graceful. Although she wasn’t the best dancer, she didn’t care, because in her eyes, her partner was the finest male on the floor. His mouth curled in a half-smile, and when, finally, the quartet drew the music to a close, she sank into a curtsey as deep as was decently allowable. His bow was sweet.

But her dream had to end, as all dreams did. For a husband to spend an evening at his wife’s side was to invite condemnation for behaving like a provincial.

Someone waited for them at the edge of the floor, a man, dark-eyed, watching them intently. Discomfort stirred inside her.

Max merely grinned and gave the man a short bow. “Allow me to introduce you, my dear. This is yet another of my reprehensible cousins. Antoninus Beaumont, only son of Thaddeus Beaumont. Thaddeus is married to my aunt Frederica.”

Another of the Duke of Kirkwood’s cousins. “Oh, I know Mr. Beaumont! He’s a colleague of my father’s. I’m delighted to meet you at last, sir.”

Antoninus Beaumont bowed. “If I’d met you before Max did, you might be Mrs. Beaumont by now. I’m sorry for the omission. I’ve been abroad far too long.”

A charmer, then.

“And do you return to the army?”

Antoninus shook his head. “No, I fear not. My father has finally prevailed on me to come home. Although I confess I had enough of the army in peace time. I may join again once the government finally stops prevaricating.”

“If the government didn’t prevaricate, we’d be sending the army to war with ploughshares for swords,” Max said dryly. “Have patience, Tony.”

Tony shot his cousin a cynical glance. “Me? My mother will tell you I was the first to walk and the first to talk. My brother waited until he was good and ready, apparently.”

His brother was the son of Mrs. Beaumont’s first marriage to Viscount Westwood. Max’s family was extensive and had a complicated history. She’d learn them all in time. Knowing their history from her father’s book helped. Tony was tall and lean, but with a no-nonsense air about him that reminded Sophia of his father.

Now he grimaced. “I do much to please my mother, including not attending City dinners with my father. I deeply regret that now.” He bowed over her hand while she laughed.

“It appears that all I have to do is get married to become the most desirable woman in London.”

Tony exchanged a smile with Max. “I’ve heard women say that before, but never with such untruth.”

Sophia enjoyed foolish compliments, playful ones. She added one of her own. “If you had remained in the army, you’d have rivalled the greatest general.”

Tony raised a dark brow. “Can you name one?”

“The Duke of Cumberland?”

He had a merry laugh. “Indeed. But he’s at the Court of St. James’s these days. I confess I’ve been avoiding a similar fate and looking for something interesting to do. Do you know anything? Ah, no, you come from the City. Not my idea of interesting.”

Sophia refused to make a stupid joke out of “Interest” and “Business,” although this man made her want to. So when the quartet began again, she gladly agreed to dance with him.

Only when they were half way through the piece did she realize that this was the first time she’d ever danced without a pause. Two men, one after the other. As if she were a debutante or the daughter of a duke.

Tony took her to meet other people then, including his mother, who she knew from the City. Lady Beaumont had a sharp, no-nonsense attitude Sophia appreciated, and she was happy to sit by her side and listen to her trenchant comments on the company. At last she was beginning to fit in. All she wanted was that, to be a part of this company and not avoided for no reason than that she wasn’t brought up with these people. That she was a merchant’s daughter.

If the family stood together, as Max had assured her they would, society would accept her.

Except when she stood to collect a glass of wine for her ladyship and one for herself, the same thing happened as always. People glanced at her, gave her considering stares, and turned away. They didn’t acknowledge her, but they didn’t ignore her either. A cold numbness invaded her.

On her walk to the supper room, her happy spirits evaporated into nothing. She hated dealing with this kind of smoke. If they turned their backs or cut her when she approached them, she’d recognize the shunning as a tangible thing and handle it. Go forward fighting. But this way she had nothing to fight against, like punching a wall of silk gauze. She could do nothing, and it angered her.

Persistence would win through. That and producing an heir for Max, someone who would be part of this. Part of
them
. Max had disappeared, no doubt using the opportunity to develop some deal or other. He never stopped working.

At least, that was what Sophia told herself. In truth, she had no idea, because their relationship hadn’t yet developed beyond the polite. It would, she promised herself. She wouldn’t allow him to keep her at arm’s length forever.

A single word heralded John’s presence at the ball tonight. “Sophia!”

A voice she knew but didn’t welcome. But she couldn’t afford to make a scene.

John bowed low. “I beg your pardon,
Lady Devereaux
. Our old acquaintance encouraged me presume too much.”

She didn’t make the same mistake, which was no mistake at all, and use his first name. “Mr. Hayes.” She would not yield and reveal her jittery nerves. “I trust you are well?” She couldn’t say it was good to see him, because it wasn’t.

“Extremely, thank you.” He dressed finer than he used to, a necessity in this company, but not nearly as grandly as some of the men there.

Max, for instance, had his emerald signet ring on tonight because it matched his coat, but the size of the engraved gem only emphasized the slenderness of his fingers. At the memory of their shielded strength she almost smiled. But not quite, because John would probably think her mad, laughing at nothing.

“My lady, your presence improves my health. I rejoice to see you so well.”

Sophia suppressed her embarrassed squirm at the flowery compliment. Over-flowery, neither truthful nor outrageous enough to amuse her. Where Tony had amused her with his pleasantries, John made her want to move away.

She inclined her head in what she hoped was gracious acceptance. “Thank you.” She was just taking a breath in preparation to excuse herself, when a voice broke in to their conversation.

“Why, Mr. Hayes, well met!”

Another man blocked her way into the refreshment room. Sophia didn’t know him. She thought about turning around, but that would be to admit defeat, so she stood her ground. He would step aside in a moment.

“Lady Devereaux, may I present Lord Alconbury?”

The man, dressed finely in dark brown velvet, bowed low as Sophia offered her hand for him to kiss. Devilishly dark and severely handsome. Also so tall she had to tilt her head to look up at him. His smile promised wicked delights.

He took it gently and kissed the air an inch above the back of her hand in the approved manner. “I’m honored, my lady.”

So relieved to meet someone who seemed genuinely pleased to see her, Sophia allowed the gentleman to accompany her to the refreshment room. “I’ve had some dealings with your husband,” he said, his low voice almost too quiet to hear. But he moved with confidence and let her place her hand on his arm.

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar—”

He paused and turned to her. “Lord Devereaux knows many people. Our paths have crossed a time or two. How are you finding the season, my lady? Your come-out was some time ago, so much of this must be new to you.”

She didn’t object to his practical statement. “I wish more people would see it as such, my lord. I have no desire to force myself on anyone.”

“Indeed never think that way. They’ll respect you more if you disdain them and ignore them. You should be cruel to your servants and insist they work all the hours of the day. Build a reputation for carelessness. Never rise until noon, and never go to bed before two.”

He had a charming smile. Although not exactly handsome, he had an attractive countenance and a pleasant disposition. She laughed with him. “I’m afraid I’m too carefully brought up for that.”

“Then try.” He bent closer, but not so close that it disturbed her. But he could lower his voice. “Lady Devereaux, if you ever need a friend, I’ll stand for you.”

She blinked up at him, startled. He was exceedingly tall. “Why should you say that, sir?”

“Recently I heard information that might make it possible that you’ll need a friend.”

Giving a practiced smile, she refused to listen to such enigmatic pronouncements. “Truly sir, I have a husband and a father. Not to mention many other people I can rely on. I am not friendless.”

“If ever you are, come to me.”

He guided her to the tables and handed her a glass of wine.

“You’re very kind, sir, but I’ve only just met you.”

Her husband’s voice came from behind her. “Sophia, I wondered where you were. Are you ready to leave?” He sounded hard, unreachable once more. Totally unlike the soft voice he’d used earlier, after they’d kissed and in the carriage.

She turned around to face him. “We’ve only been here an hour. Are we promised anywhere else tonight?” They weren’t, but perhaps he’d received an invitation. Or surely they would stay longer.

“No.”

No question, no request, no excuse. Sometimes he’d go somewhere else and she’d return home, or she’d accompany Poppy or Helena to a different ball. But as Max glared at her, she knew he was making that option impossible.