Authors: Nicola Italia
“I think one kiss will pay the debt for your insult,” he told her quietly.
Sophie thought for a moment that she had misheard him. One moment she was in the rain enjoying the silence and now she was being accosted by a stranger. She would scream.
“You could scream,” he suggested.
Sophie looked into his handsome face and he smiled broadly.
“Women. You think alike.”
“Indeed? I’m quite certain the women you are used to don’t think at all,” came her retort.
When he dipped his head down to touch her lips with his, Sophie wanted to scream. But then suddenly she wanted to feel his lips on hers. He was arrogant and self-centered and used to getting what he wanted. She would show him. But the feeling was tantalizing as his mouth touched hers and she had to curl her fingers into the bark of the tree behind her to stop herself from winding them into his hair.
At first his lips were warm against her cool ones. Then she felt his hand on her neck and she opened her mouth and his tongue was touching hers delicately, intimately.
He could feel himself harden and realized it had happened with only one simple, innocent kiss from the auburn-haired lovely. It was a feeling that he welcomed in the rain under the tree. She smelled of floral and sweet orange flowers and it was as if he’d stumbled upon a garden amid the rain. He knew she was holding back because she deliberately kept her hands away from him.
She closed her eyes and felt his tongue teasing her mouth and his hand on her neck. She savored the feeling, wanting it never to end and wanting it to stop. She was behaving badly and it was unseemly. If her grandmother saw her, she would probably faint. Before Sophie changed her mind, she bit down on the man’s bottom lip.
“Hoyden!” He pulled away, his tongue licking blood from his tiny wound.
Sophie backed away. “You lack any semblance of manners!” She made her way back to the safety of the refreshment tent as her heart pounded in her chest.
Meanwhile, Sebastian stood in the rain tasting blood, with her scent still lingering in the air.
***
Dorset had asked that Sebastian speak to the young lady he had invited for dinner. He wanted her to know the time and place, and asked to be pardoned for having to leave early from the match. The girl was to join him at his home for an intimate dinner and he would, of course, be delighted to entertain her grandmother as well.
“Grandmother?” Sebastian asked.
“Don’t ask,” Dorset said. “She’s a lady and her grandmother will act as chaperone.”
Sebastian shrugged. This would be a first, he thought.
“She’s sitting with Madame Necker and her daughter Germaine,” Dorset said as he entered his carriage.
“It will be done, sir.”
Sebastian walked towards the tent, still relishing the taste of the unknown woman. He would have to find her. He hadn’t been so intrigued by a woman in a long time. He knew from her response that she was an innocent and he would savor her all the more.
He looked through the tent and saw Madame Necker in deep conversation with two women and he moved toward them.
Germaine saw him coming and bounded up to meet him. “Hello, Sebastian,” she said, smiling.
“
Mademoiselle
,” he returned as she led him to the table.
Madame Necker motioned to the empty seat and then spoke. “I don’t think you know our newest addition. Sebastian Fairfax, this is Sophie Gauvreau. Sophie, this is Sebastian Fairfax.”
Sebastian turned to the young woman and looked deep into the hazel eyes of the witch who had bitten his lip in the drizzle of a Paris rain.
Chapter 6
Sophie’s eyes narrowed as she saw the man who had accosted her outside in the rain. She wanted to point to him and yell that he was a seducer of women, but then smiled to herself. That only happened to women who read too many novels. She was determined to be a woman of the world. An intellectual woman of the world. The only way to deal with a man like him would be to ignore him entirely.
“Monsieur Fairfax,” she said coolly, extending out her hand.
He bowed to her slightly and took her hand in his. “Mademoiselle Gauvreau. A
pleasure.
” He kissed her hand, as expected, but his finger lingered underneath it, touching her palm intimately.
She blushed lightly at the touch and he smiled. He saw she was not so immune to him as she would like him to think.
She snatched her hand away as Germaine continued to smile at him like a lovesick puppy. Madame Necker had excused herself and Sophie took this moment to excuse herself as well to join the line at the coffee and tea table.
She saw large porcelain pots containing tea and coffee that was being poured into cups with saucers and she concluded that the duke must have provided everything for this game. He was a wealthy man who enjoyed showing off.
“Don’t run away, I’m not the one who bites.” Sophie heard a whisper in her ear from behind her.
She sighed at the intrusion and turned to Sebastian as he licked his sensuous bottom lip, where she had inflicted the damage.
“Perhaps if you could behave yourself as any gentleman would, you wouldn’t be bitten,” she explained.
What gentleman could resist the temptation of tasting those delicious lips, he wondered.
“I’ll try to work on my proper behavior,
mademoiselle
,” he replied in a serious tone.
Sophie turned back to the queue and tried to ignore him. “What you do is of no concern to me,
monsieur
.”
“Bash.”
“I’m sorry?” She turned to him, confused.
“I’m called Sebastian. Though my friends and intimates call me ‘Bash,’” he clarified.
“Then I will call you
monsieur
.”
Sebastian laughed as the line advanced. “I came to find you. I have a message for you from the duke.”
Sophie frowned and then realized he spoke the truth. “The secretary. You’re the secretary.”
“I am.”
“The message?” she asked impatiently.
He gave her the time and place of the duke’s residence and informed her that a carriage would arrive a half hour before dinner to transport her and her grandmother to the duke’s home in a few days’ time.
“
Merci
,
monsieur
.”
“You should be careful,
mademoiselle
,” Sebastian said seriously.
“Excuse me?”
“The duke’s reputation.”
Sophie almost laughed. “His reputation?”
“Yes, with women.”
Sophie laughed and her creamy throat was exposed. Sebastian wanted to run his fingers down its length and cover her mouth with his.
“You mean he kisses strange women in the park without asking?”
Sebastian shook his head at the girl’s sharp tongue. “Sophie—”
“Excuse me.” The line had reached the front. She received her cup and saucer filled with tea as requested, and returned to the table with Germaine.
***
Lizette Robidoux was very different from her dear friend Sophie. She wasn’t intellectual like Sophie, nor as beautiful. With her dark blonde hair and brown eyes she was pretty, but not very tall so she was prone to chubbiness and her fondness for sweets didn’t help.
But she was kind and giving and adored Sophie. Sophie in turn was very fond of Lizette and they had been friends since girlhood.
“Was the cricket game interesting?” Lizette asked.
Sophie pondered the question, wondering how much should she tell her. She knew Lizette wasn’t a gossip but if it got back to her grandmother, she would be forever locked inside the house. She could still feel Sebastian’s hand on her neck and his mouth covering hers. In line for tea he had called her by name. It was all very disconcerting.
“It was quite boring,” she said, deciding a little lie was best.
Lizette nodded. “I thought so. And the duke?”
“He asked me to dinner.”
“No!” Lizette’s brown eyes widened.
“Yes, Lizette. He did. And before you get all worked up,
Grand-mère
is coming with me.”
Lizette nodded. “Of course she would. Your grandmother is always proper. She follows the rules.”
Sophie agreed. “Yes, unfortunately she does.”
“What does that mean?” Lizette asked.
“Nothing. It’s just that change is in the air. I can feel it. And she would prefer nothing ever changes,” Sophie complained.
Lizette helped herself to another small iced cake. “Well, change is hard so she prefers to live in the past.”
“Yes, you are correct, of course.”
“Will you attend anymore of Madame Necker’s salons?” Lizette asked.
Though she did not read the most esteemed writers of the day, Lizette was aware of them through Sophie. Her father was a well-known and respected doctor. He was good friends with Sophie’s father, which was how the two women had met.
“I do hope so, Lizette. The people, the conversations are all so dizzying.”
“And your second pamphlet is out. I heard my father speaking of it,” she spoke quietly.
Only Lizette and Marie knew of Sophie’s writings and they were both sworn to secrecy. Sophie knew that Lizette would remain steadfast and never betray her.
“Really?” Sophie asked excitedly.
“Yes. But not in a good way, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t understand why women’s rights are so frightening for everyone to grasp. Why?” she asked heatedly as the door opened to admit Eugenie, clad in an orange silk gown.
Eugenie joined the two young women at the table. “Dear Lizette. How are you?” she asked, eyeing the simple white gown she wore.
“I am well, Madame Gauvreau.”
“
Bon
. What on earth were you shouting for, Sophie? Quite unladylike.”
“I wasn’t shouting,
Grand-mère
. I was simply explaining the cricket game and all we saw to Lizette.”
Eugenie relaxed. “Oh, yes, my dear. It was quite exciting.”
Eugenie had spent almost the entire time inside the tent gossiping with her friend, but everyone who had asked her about the game received the same response.
“Yes. Quite exciting. And now the duke has asked Sophie to dine with him,” Eugenie said, smiling and eyeing her granddaughter critically. She was clad in a peach-colored gown that suited her complexion and hair, though the scooped neckline was too low for Eugenie’s taste.
Lizette nodded but Sophie spoke. “I have heard the duke has quite the reputation with ladies.”
Eugenie was pouring herself a cup of tea and stopped midway. “What was that?”
“Yes. He’s known as quite the womanizer. In fact, there is group of gentlemen that surround him—friends I believe—and they call them Dorset’s Devils.” Sophie wiped away a crumb from her peach skirt.
“
Mon Dieu
!” Eugenie exclaimed. “Where do you pick up these things?”
Sophie was about to explain that she read the scandal sheets, but she kept her tongue.
“It is unseemly. It is not ladylike to discuss such things.” Eugenie placed the teapot down and stood.
“So it’s perfectly acceptable for men to do such things, but I shouldn’t speak of them,” Sophie stated.
“
Oui. Exactement.
Men have needs and we do not discuss them in polite society. You will be a wife and mother one day. That is enough.” Eugenie was upset by her granddaughter’s inability to hold her tongue, and in front of company, no less.
Sophie shook her head. “No,
Grand-mère
. That is not enough.”
“Excuse me, Lizette. I have a headache coming on. Give my regards to your parents.” Eugenie swept from the room, giving Sophie a harsh look.
“Sophie, why do you torture her?” Lizette asked.
“She thinks because he is a duke that he is a perfect male specimen. But he is flawed, as most men are. And that in itself isn’t the worst part. She hides these things and pretends all is well. It’s hypocritical.” Sophie stood near the window, watching the horse and carriages drive by.
“You should be more understanding,” her friend coaxed.
“And now she’ll tell Father. And then Father will talk to me.” Sophie sighed. “Why? Because I made a perfectly legitimate statement.”
Lizette rolled her eyes. Though Sophie spoke the truth, she tormented her grandmother often because they were two such different people.
“Lizette, I don’t truly want to be mean or cruel to her,” Sophie said softly. “I just want her to see life as it is. I love her. But we are so different it’s like talking to someone from China.”
“Sophie. It is her life. Yours is a different life. And I imagine 50 years from now it will be the same with you and your granddaughter,” Lizette replied, devouring her third iced cake.
“Since when did you become so all-knowing?” Sophie said, turning to her friend with a smile.
Lizette smiled back. “You are rubbing off on me, I suppose.”
***
Later, Sophie’s father summoned her to his library, but it wasn’t to admonish her. He had been invited to Madame Necker’s and the invitation expressly asked for Mademoiselle Gauvreau as well.
“May I?” she asked, excited.
“Of course, my dear. Although it did not mention her, I will ask your grandmother as well.”
Sophie nodded, though she knew Eugenie would not want to attend. She was correct.
***
That evening Sophie dressed in a deep forest-green silk gown with a sage-green petticoat. The scooped neckline and elbow-length sleeves were embroidered with fine threads of brown that made a lovely contrast. She wore a simple pearl necklace her father had gifted to her on her eighteenth birthday. She had matching drop-pearl earrings, which she wore as well.
When she came downstairs to see her father dressed in dark breeches and a matching coat she thought he looked handsome and distinguished. His hair was clubbed with a black ribbon while his shoes were black and his hose white.
Jean Pierre saw his daughter descending the stairs and was taken aback. She looked so much like his dear departed wife he struggled for the words.
“My dear, you look quite charming,” he said softly.
“Thank you, Papa.” Sophie smiled faintly under the compliment.