Jack shackled the urge to haul her into his arms, to put an end to this wooing here and now. Instead, as the music ceased, he drew her hand through his arm. Come. Ill escort you back to your aunt.
At least she had called him Jack.
SOMETHINGS WRONG.
It was two nights after Lady Marchmains ball. Horatio, already propped amid the pillows, turned to study his wife as she sat at her dressing-table, brushing out her mane of silver-blond hair. What makes you say that? he asked, unperturbed by her intense expression.
Lucilla frowned. Sophie isnt happy.
Isnt she? Horatio blinked behind his glasses. Why not? I would have thought, with a horde of would-be suitors, Jack Lester to the fore, shed be as happy as a young lady could be.
Well, shes not-and I think it has something to do with Jack Lester, although I cannot, for the life of me, imagine what it could be. Why, the mans positively eaten by jealousy every time she so much as smiles at another. Anyone with eyes can see it. I really dont know what more Sophie wants. Jack Lester will be the catch of the Season.
Hmm. Horatio frowned. Youre quite sure its Jack Lester she wants?
Lucilla snorted. Believe me, my dear, theres no man Sophie wants even a tenth as much. Indeed, if I was intent on doing my job by the book, I should have warned her long ago not to be so blatant in her preference.
Ah, well. Horatio shuffled his ever-present documents and laid them aside as Lucilla stood and came towards the bed. I dare say itll work itself out. These things generally do.
Lucilla slipped beneath the covers and snuggled down. She waited until Horatio had blown out the candle before saying, You dont think I should well, find out what the problem is?
You mean meddle? Horatios tone made his opinion quite clear even before he said, No. Let the young make their own mistakes, mdear. How else do you expect them to learn?
Lucilla grimaced in the dark. Doubtless youre right, dear. She reached under the covers and patted Horatios hand. She waited all of a minute before saying, Actually, I was thinking of organizing a short respite from town. The circus of the Season can become a mite tedious without a break. And I wouldnt want Sophie or Clarissa to become jaded just yet. What say you to a little house party at Aunt Evangelines?
Protected by the dark, Horatio slowly smiled. Whatever you think best, mdear.
It wouldnt hurt for the young people to have a little time together-time enough to correct their mistakes.
BUT FATE HAD NOT yet consented to smile again on Jack. And as for Sophie, she was finding it hard to smile at all.
BUT FATE HAD NOT yet consented to smile again on Jack. And as for Sophie, she was finding it hard to smile at all.
The thought that Jack wanted her to marry as soon as possible was depressing enough. The idea of what he imagined would happen after was even more so. Her dreams were in tatters; Sophie found it increasingly hard to support her serene façade. She had made a habit of joining circles with Belle Chessington, relying on her friends unquenchably cheery constitution to conceal her flagging spirits. But her glow was entirely superficial. Inside was all deepening gloom.
She had just returned to her circle on the arm of Mr. Chartwell, who was becoming more assiduous with every passing day, when a deep voice set her heart thumping.
I do hope, Miss Winterton, that youve saved me a dance. Jack smiled into Sophies eyes as he took her hand and drew her away from her court. Ive been teaching Ned how to tie his cravat, and it took rather longer than either of us expected.
Sophie felt her nerves knot and pull tight. Was this, she wondered, as they strolled down the room, how it was going to be later? Would he simply arrive and appropriate her at will? Tensing, she lifted her chin. Im afraid my card is full, Mr. Lester.
Jack frowned slightly. I had rather supposed it would be. But you have kept a dance for me, havent you?
They both nodded to Miss Berry, ensconced on a chaise, then continued onward in silence. Sophie struggled to find words for her purpose.
Somewhat abruptly, their progress halted and her escort drew her to face him.
Sophie? Jacks frown was gathering force.
Sophies eyes met his, cloudy, turbulent, intensely blue. Her heart thudding uncomfortably in her throat, she slid her gaze from his. As it happens, I have not yet accepted anyone for the second waltz.
You have now. Smothering the dark, almost violent passion that had threatened to erupt, Jack trapped her hand on his sleeve and continued their stroll.
He pointedly returned Sophie to her aunt, some little way from her cloying court. Surrendering her up for their delectation was presently beyond him. His expression somewhat grim, he bowed over Sophies hand. Until the second waltz, Miss Winterton.
With that, he left her, his mood even more savage than when he had arrived.
For Sophie, the second waltz arrived far too soon. She had not yet regained her composure, seriously strained by the events of the past weeks and now close to breaking. Jacks arm about her whirled her effortlessly down the floor; Sophie held herself stiffly, battling the impulse to surrender to his strength.
So absorbed was she with her struggle that the first she knew of their departure from the ballroom was the cool touch of the night air on her face.
Where? Distracted, Sophie glanced about and discovered they were on a terrace. But that, apparently, was not their destination, for Jack, his arm still hard about her waist, urged her on. Jack! Sophie tried to dig in her heels.
Jack stopped and looked down at her. You were obviously finding the waltz a trial. I thought you might need some air.
Sophie relaxed slightly, and found she was moving again. Where are we going?
The answer was a garden room, built onto the house beyond the end of the terrace. Walls of windows let the moonlight pour in, silvering everything in sight. A few padded cane chairs and two little tables were scattered about the small room, which was, Sophie realized as she heard the door click behind them, mercifully empty.
Which was just as well, for Jack demanded without preamble, How much longer, Sophie?
Sophie swung about and found him advancing on her.
How much longer are you going to make me suffer?
Her hand rose as if to ward him off; it came to rest on his chest as he halted directly before her. Feeling the warmth of his body through his coat, Sophie shivered. She looked up into his shadowed face, the planes hard and unyielding, and a small spurt of temper flared inside. How did he think she felt, having to give up the man she loved-and having that man urge her to do it? Her chin lifted. Im afraid the decision is not that simple. In fact, I find the attentions of my present admirers not at all to my taste.
That admission went a long way towards easing the tension that held Jack in its grip. He could feel it flowing from him, the muscles of his shoulders and back relaxing.
Still considering her suitors, Sophie frowned. Im afraid I would not be happy accepting any of my present suitors.
An icy chill stole over Jacks heart. It beat three times before he asked, None?
Sophie shook her head. I dont know what to do. I must accept someone by the end of the Season.
The chill was slowly spreading through Jacks veins. He touched his tongue to his lips, then asked, Why not me?
Startled, Sophie glanced up at him. But She frowned. I cant marry you-you know I cant. She could see very little of his expression through the shadows veiling his face. And nothing at all of his eyes.
Why not? Sight wouldnt have helped her; Jacks expression was hard, impassive, all emotion suppressed. We both know Ive all the attributes you seek in a husband: a country estate, a wish to reside in the country, a desire for children, to have a family about me. Thats what you want, isnt it?
Sophie stared up at him.
And, of course, Jack continued, his lips twisting in an uncertain smile, we have something else between us. Raising a hand, he delicately drew the tip of one finger from the point of Sophies shoulder, exposed by her wide neckline, across to the base of her throat, then down to where the deep cleft between her breasts was visible above her gown. Sophie shivered and caught her breath.
A compatibility, Jack said, that makes all the rest fade into insignificance. His eyes rose to trap Sophies stunned gaze. Isnt it so, Sophie?
Sophie swallowed. But I have no fortune. Nothing but expectations.
That doesnt matter. Jacks gaze sharpened. He drew a deep breath. Sophie-
In a sudden breathless rush, Sophie put her fingers over his lips. No! she squeaked, and cursed her quavering voice. At last she understood-and knew what she must do. Drawing in a determined breath, consciously steeling herself, she drew back, forcing herself to hold his gaze. Im afraid you dont understand, Jack. Ive never been wealthy in my life-I came to London determined to marry well. The lie came out so easily. Her eyes falling from his, Sophie searched for more words to shore it up. I know I didnt say so, but I thought you understood. Nothing. She paused to make sure her voice would not waver. Nothing Ive seen in London has changed my mind; I require that my preferred suitor has considerable wealth.
The words came out more than creditably. Sophie heard them; her heart thudded painfully in her breast but she held herself erect, head high. Far better he think her lost to all sensibility than that he offer to marry her, mortgaging his future, turning his back on those responsibilities that were so very important to him. He was just like Lucilla-ready to sacrifice all for love. She wouldnt allow it.
But Jack couldnt have felt more stunned had she slapped him. His brain reeled, grappling with the fact that Sophie did not know of his true circumstances. He had assumed Horatio would tell Lucilla, who in turn would have told Sophie. Obviously not. The facts were on his lips. Chill reason froze them there.
He looked down at Sophies face, calm and serene in the moonlight, the face of the woman he had thought he understood. But she was intent on marrying for money-so intent she would happily put aside what was between them, turn away from his love, and hers, in exchange for cold hard cash. Fate was playing games with him; his golden head had gold on her mind. Did he really want to win her by revealing his disgusting wealth? How would he feel when she smiled and came to his arms, knowing that it had taken money to get her there?