After Innocence (5 page)

She jerked up.

Edward smiled gently. “Is that why you dress as you do? Do you deliberately attempt to hide your beauty to fend off unwanted admirers?”

She gasped. Her jaw tightened. “You think me a fool?” She was terse now, and pale.

“Miss O’Neil—”

She inhaled hard and held up a hand. “Why would you say such a thing? We both know I have no beauty to hide.”

She did not know. She did not even guess her own charm. And suddenly Edward was determined to shake her up until she saw herself as she should. “But it needs to be said.”

She crossed her arms. “You are toying with me,” she whispered uneasily.

“I am not toying with you. I don’t play with people or their feelings—not ever.”

She gazed at him as if torn between hope and disbelief.

“Accept the truth, Miss O’Neil. For soon your other admirers will come form with the exact same claims, despite your professional aspirations.”

Her breath escaped. “I do not think so.”

“No?”

“There are no admirers.” She started to move away from him, but he caught her arm. “My mother is signaling everyone that it is time to go in to dinner,” she cried.

“You’re afraid of me.” He turned the full force of his blue gaze upon her—a look no woman had ever resisted with any degree of success. “Don’t be.”

“No, I am not.” She shrugged free of him. Her gaze was direct. “For there is no valid reason for me to be afraid of you, is there?”

Edward actually flushed, ashamed. Their gazes locked. “Miss O’Neil, don’t believe all that you hear.”

She stiffened, biting her lower lip, which he now realized was full and provocative. “I do not condemn others, Mr. Delanza, based on hearsay or gossip.”

“I am relieved to hear that.” His smile flashed, but his cheeks were still uncomfortably warm. “Perhaps you will not condemn me, either, for any other happenstance?”

She blinked and became very still, a fawn poised to take flight.

He hoped he had not given himself away. She would never speak to him again if she knew he had been aware of her presence in the dunes, not that he would blame her. She must not find out. “I really am not a hopeless cad,” he cajoled.

After a long pause she finally said, “I never thought you were.”

He was truly startled—and ridiculously, he was hopeful. “Then you are far more charitable than I would have ever thought possible,” he murmured. He extended his arm. “Shall we go in to supper together?”

“No! I don’t think so!” Her gaze swept the salon with some degree of panic, as if looking for rescue from
him.

Edward glanced up and saw that they were almost the last ones left in the salon, and that Suzanne Ralston regarded them intently from the doorway across the room. Of course, Suzanne would be worried about his interest in her daughter, not knowing that she had nothing to fear. He sighed. “Until we next meet,” he bowed, smiling at Sofie.

She merely stared up at him.

A woman touched his arm briefly from behind. “Edward?”

“Mrs. Stewart,” he murmured, turning to face her, hiding his reluctance to leave Sofie.

Hilary was smiting, but her eyes were darker than he remembered, darker and far more inquisitive. “You can escort me, if you wish,” she said lightly.

“Gladly.” And when he turned around, Hilary on his arm, Sofie O’Neil was gone.

Sofie spent the next two hours avoiding Edward Delanza’s intense blue gaze.

Hilary had been seated on his left. They were seated across the table and far to the front by Benjamin Ralston at the table’s head. Sofie had gladly obeyed Suzanne’s instructions to sit at the other end with her. She wished to be as far away from him as possible.

She was distressed, far more than she should be. Sofie prided herself upon her level headed composure, but tonight it seemed to have escaped her. It was hard to be dignified when confronted with a man whom she had seen in the throes of passion with another woman; indeed, it was impossible for Sofie not to burn with heat every time his questing stare wandered over to her—which it did repeatedly.

Why had he singled her out for his attentions? He was Edward Delanza, dashing and dangerous, persona non grata, seducer of women, diamond smuggler
extraordinaire
—if all was to be believed—and he had singled her out the moment he entered the salon.

Sofie did not understand it for a second. He could not find her interesting or attractive; the very idea was absurd.
Why
had he singled her out?

She glanced down to the other end of the table where Edward sat. He was leaning towards Hilary, his head cocked, his black hair shining in the light cast by the chandeliers overhead. His profile was breathtaking and nearly perfect—his nose strong and straight but a bit large. His mouth had formed into a soft smile as he listened to something Hilary said.

Finally he grinned. Then his grin died and he straightened, quickly looking up to find Sofie staring. Their gazes
clashed. Sofie quickly dropped her glance—for the hundredth time that night, she blushed. But now he stared. She could feel it.

Cautiously yet unable to prevent herself, Sofie lifted her gaze. Edward Delanza was far more than handsome, just as Lisa had said; there was something infinitely compelling about him. He and Hilary were so beautiful together. They made the perfect couple. And although Hilary was behaving with absolute propriety now, Sofie imagined that beneath the table her thigh pressed his, perhaps even her hand. Every time Hilary smiled at Edward, Sofie thought about what they had shared—what they would undoubtedly share again that night—and she was distraught.

Was she jealous? She had her art to consume her; she had decided against marriage. She was happy with her decision. If she had any doubts, she had only to think of Mary Cassatt, a renowned artist who had remained single in order to devote herself to her work.

Edward caught her regard, and this time his glance turned to smoke.

Immediately Sofie’s insides melted.

“Sofie, you are staring, and it is most unbecoming,” Suzanne whispered.

Sofie jerked. She could feel her face burning. She thought that there had been a message in Edward Delanza’s blue eyes, but surely she was wrong. Surely he was not looking at her with such alarming intensity and such predatory interest.

Suzanne had turned to her guests, making a winy comment that caused them to laugh, but not before giving Sofie another concerned glance.

Sofie had had enough. She could not imagine how she would survive another day and night until the weekend was over and she returned to New York City. Perhaps she would plead an illness and remain in her room abed.

His incomprehensible flirtation with her before dinner was still fresh in her mind. He was the very first man who had ever evinced the slightest interest in her, the first to ever flirt with her, to smile and flatter her. Had he seen her crude gait, he would not have been charming—he would have ignored her like everyone else.

Suzanne had stood, signaling that dinner was over and they might all ow adjourn to the drawing room. Sofie had been lost in the fantasy of another flirtation with Edward when she heard the scraping back of chairs as the guests stood also. Sternly she told herself that it would never be. Once Edward remarked her as she limped from the room, he would lose interest. Even had he really found her attractive before, he would not find her pretty once he saw her ungainly, clumsy gait.

Sofie refused to budge from her seat. She was aware of his glance lingering upon her, openly curious, but she avoided returning his gaze. Finally he sauntered out with the other men to take brandies and cigars in the smoking room. Sofie rose to her feet slowly and trailed after the other women. She was torn.

On the one hand, she wanted to flee up the stairs to her room. He would not realize that she was a cripple. And then she could give in to the urge to draw, which was overpowering.
The urge to draw him.

On the other hand, she did not want to go at all.

Lisa fell into step beside her, shortening her stride to Sofie’s. “Was it him?”

Sofie’s smile was wan. “Yes.”

Lisa’s cry was excited. “Oh, you could paint him, Sofie, and how stunning the portrait would be.”

Sofie said nothing—what was there to say? She intended to paint him, and it would be an extraordinary work. Sofie had no doubt.

“What do you think of him?” Lisa paused outside the salon, the other women going in ahead of them.

“I think he is everything you have described, Lisa.” Devastating, dashing … dangerous.

“You are smitten, too!”

Sofie swallowed. “Of course I’m not.”

Lisa was openly curious. “What did the two of you talk about before dinner? Is he not horribly charming? Do you think—do you mink mere is anything between him and Hilary?”

“Lisa!” Sofie was scandalized that she would mention the affair now, when they might be overheard.

“Well? She is so beautiful, he is a rake and she’s a widow, and I
did
see them together,” Lisa whispered.

“How—how on earth would you know anything about rakes and their … pursuits?” Sofie sputtered.

Lisa smiled, serene. “I do not lock myself away at the Academy, or in a room, painting day in and day out, as you do, Sofie. I have friends. I go out. Everyone talks. Widows have
experience,
and they are far safer than married women.”

Sofie could only stare.

“Well, Newport has never been so interesting,! can certainly admit to that.” Lisa laughed and hurried away after the other women, into the parlor for sweets and sherries.

Sofie gripped the banister, relieved that Lisa was gone, wondering what was going to happen now. In another twenty minutes or so the men would rejoin the ladies. It was not long to wait—if she dared.

And if she remained seated, he might never learn of her limp tonight. Sofie knew she was being irrational but found her usual common sense dissipated by the day’s events and her unholy desire to be in Edward Delanza’s presence just one more time. To be the recipient of his electrifying charm.

“Where are you going?” Suzanne paused beside her.

“I was thinking of going to bed.”

Suzanne gripped the railing. “I don’t think you should retire just now, Sofie.”

Sofie looked at her mother, saw the tension in her. “I do not mean to be rude.”

“Retiring so early would be rude. Just as it was rude to go off alone today, ignoring all of my guests.”

Sofie paled. “Mother, I am sorry.”

“Of course you are. I know it was not intentional. But, Sofie—” Suzanne took her hand “—just the other day I heard someone mention you. She called you a recluse! It is difficult enough that you are considered eccentric.”

Sofie was wounded, but tried not to let it show. “Mother, what would you have me do? How can I paint
and
go to parties and races and teas? If your friends choose to think of me as eccentric, perhaps they are right. To them I am odd.”

“You can be as eccentric as you want, dear, as long as you keep up certain pretenses. You have been alone in New York for two entire months, devoting yourself to your art. This weekend you must devote yourself to my guests. Really, Sofie, is it too much to ask?”

Sofie shook her head. “Of course, you are right, and it is not too much to ask.”

“Perhaps I should not have allowed you to remain in the city by yourself, perhaps I should have insisted you summer in Newport with your family.”

Sofie grew alarmed. “That will not make my art go away, Mother.”

Suzanne grimaced. “Unfortunately, it won’t, and I realize that.” She hesitated, holding her daughter’s gaze. “I watched you with Edward Delanza tonight, Sofie. And I do not think tonight was the first time you have been with him.”

Sofie gasped, flushing dully. Of course, that evening had not been their first encounter—not for her, at least—but she could not tell her mother that she had been so immoral and depraved as to spy upon him while he made love to their neighbor.

“I’m right!” Suzanne cried. She was incredulous.

“Not exactly,” Sofie said. “Not really. I saw him earlier, that’s all, but we never spoke.”

Suzanne raised her finger. “I want you to stay away from him—do you understand me? If for some incredible reason he pursues you, stay away!”

Sofie sucked in her breath. “I have every intention of staying away from him. I am not a fool.”

“But a man like that is adept at turning a green girl’s head.”

“Not mine. And I am hardly a girl anymore, Mother. Twenty is quite long in the tooth.” Sofie gazed at Suzanne. “Does he really smuggle diamonds?”

“Yes, he does, and if that is not enough to forewarn you, he is an accomplished, unrepentant rake.”

Sofie was not as ready as her mother to condemn Edward to the pits of irredeemable impropriety, no matter what she had seen. She recalled his earlier words, how he’d asked
her not to believe everything she’d heard about him. “If he is so horrible, then why is he here?”

Suzanne sighed. “He rounds out the party. A handsome bachelor always does. And Mr. Delanza in particular is popular precisely because his background is so suspect—not to mention the fact of his astounding looks and charm. Who do you think the ladies are talking about now? He has already made my house party a big success.” Then Suzanne came closer, lowering her voice. “You are far past the age of innocence, Sotie, so listen well. If Hilary or anyone else decides to avail themselves of his virility—and his fondness for rich, beautiful, experienced ladies is undisputed—that is their affair. They know what they are doing. You do not. You are neither rich nor beautiful, and despite your age, you are far too innocent. You were very foolish tonight, allowing him to carry on with you, encouraging him. I am telling you to stay away from him for your own good.”

Sofie was hurt. She should not have been; she knew she was a plain, lame woman and could never be considered even remotely beautiful, and she had always known that. But it was a moment before she could speak. “I am not as foolish as you think. I did not entice him, or encourage him, and I never will.”

Suzanne suddenly smiled, reaching out to hug her daughter. “I do not want to see you hurt, Sofie, dear, surely you know that. I, more than anyone, know what it’s like to love that kind of man. I am trying to protect you.”