An Ideal Husband? (9 page)

‘I saw the opportunity and seized it. The punch was long overdue.’

Sophie pressed her lips together. She had to remember that Richard had his own reasons for wanting to hit Sir Vincent. It had nothing to do with her and her troubles, but what had passed between the pair years ago. He had no finer feelings for her. She was simply the means to the end of exacting revenge on Sir Vincent. Because he had made a vow. She was a duty rather than a pleasure.

Drawing a steadying breath, she stood. It was imperative to keep her wits about her and not to
start believing in the romantic fantasy she had spun for various female acquaintances in the crowd of well-wishers. She knew precisely the sort of man Richard Crawford was and she’d be a fool to forget it.

‘My father used to say that opportunities are to be used, rather than lamented about later. You make your luck. Thankfully everything went the way I hoped. Sir Vincent is utterly destroyed.’

‘With a little assistance from me.’

She smiled up at him. ‘Some very welcome assistance. I couldn’t have done it without you. Cynthia’s parents will hear of tonight’s events. They may not be so quick to offer one of their daughters up as Sir Vincent predicted. A fantastic victory.’

‘Do you play croquet?’

‘On occasion.’ She tilted her head and regarded his features. ‘It is the latest craze. We brought a set back from the Great Exhibition. I spent last summer in Corbridge perfecting my technique. I used to play cricket and was quite handy with the bat. It felt good to be hitting a ball again.’

‘I suspect you give no mercy to your opponents.’

‘I enjoy winning, but I don’t grind my opponents in the ground like some.’

‘We must play some time.’

‘It might be a pleasant way to pass the time.’ Sophie hesitated. The time had come to end their fake engagement and put temptation beyond reach. ‘I must warn you, Lord Bingfield, that what I said last night remains true. I have no intention of giving up my reputation, even for a man like yourself who did save me. I fear we must soon part.’

His finely chiselled features frowned. ‘Do you wish to go home?’

‘Now that tonight’s performance has ended?’ Sophie stopped and replaced her glove, covering up her ring. She had only worn the ring for a short while, but she would be sorry to give it back.

‘I am at your disposal.’ He inclined his head. ‘Most women would be overwhelmed by what just occurred. No one will remark when we leave.’

Sophie froze, considering. Did he mean that he wanted her to stay or that he thought a woman of delicate sensibilities would have to leave the ball immediately? Her backbone was made of far sterner stuff, but she could see how leaving would make matters easier. ‘Before you hit him, Sir Vincent as good as admitted to me that it was he who had informed the papers. I doubt
he will try that again. Should he attempt to ruin me, I can point to tonight’s events as a reason why his poison should not be believed. Our engagement is finished. I can leave on my own if you wish to stay.’

She waited for his agreement. His frown increased.

‘Your actions do mean we are tied to each other for a while longer.’ A tiny smile played on his lips. ‘Becoming engaged to your dream man meant you forgot your sensibilities. Your words, not mine. Consider what will happen if you jilt me tomorrow. Consider what the press will say then. Will you be known as a flighty heiress?’

Sophie gulped. She could see the headline now. ‘They were a figure of speech, an added flourish.’

‘Added little flourishes can have grave consequences, Miss Ravel. Perhaps you should think before you act.’

She bowed her head, acknowledging the truth in his words. ‘I can hardly jilt you tonight or any time soon. I shall have to wait until the furore dies down.’

‘It may take weeks or even months.’ His eyes glittered amber. ‘The episode has ensured that the engagement will be on everyone’s lips tomorrow morning. Various members of the gutter
press were in the crowd. Our engagement will be the lead item in the gossip columns throughout the land. “The Redoubtable captures the Rake” has a certain resonance. Prior to your intervention, I had thought “Lord exposes caddish behaviour” or, better still, “blackmailer”.’

Sophie winced. He had exposed a fatal flaw in her actions and had stated very clearly that he could not wait to be rid of her. Only now they were shackled together. Her doing, not his. All of his actions had been designed to take revenge on Putney and he had nearly succeeded in provoking a duel. Now, she had inadvertently prolonged the time they had to spend together.

‘It was the killing blow. I could not be certain your scheme would work,’ she argued.

‘You failed to think. Emotion carried you.’ He looked down at her. ‘It carries you still. Luckily, I still possess my faculties. We will have to spend more time in each other’s company, pretending that our engagement is one of the great love stories, or we shall be exposed as cheats.’

Sophie put her hand on her stomach and tried to stop her insides roiling. She would have to dance with him again. She would have to pretend to be besotted. And there would be no expectation of marriage if she gave in to his charm. ‘I would like to return home now. Will you please
find my stepmother and make the necessary arrangements? We can discuss how long our engagement must continue at a later date. My head pains me too much to think straight.’

Richard struggled to control his temper as the carriage stopped outside Miss Ravel’s house. There were things which needed to be said between Sophie and him, but Mrs Ravel sat squarely between them. Mrs Ravel kept up a steady stream of conversation, seemingly oblivious to the stony silence from Sophie.

It was far from his fault that the engagement had been announced in the way it was. That was entirely her doing. There again, it had prevented him from beating Putney into a bloody pulp.

The sight of Putney’s hand restraining Sophie had filled him with a primitive anger. He had wanted to murder him for daring to even look at Sophie, let alone touch her in that fashion. His actions had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with Sophie.

‘There is no need to see us in, Lord Bingfield,’ Sophie said, alighting from the carriage before he had a chance to hold out his hand and help her down.

‘There is every need,’ Richard retorted silkily, managing to swallow his annoyance. Despite
her public declaration, in private, Sophie made it all too clear how she felt about him. ‘I could hardly allow my fiancée or her stepmother to make their way home without being there to ensure their safety.’

What made it worse was that he had to accept all the congratulations, knowing that the woman beside him could not wait to be rid of him.

He had never considered that he was like his father and would lose his reason over a woman, but now it seemed he had. His feelings tonight made a mockery of his proposal. No finer feelings. He definitely wanted to hold Sophie in his arms again and feel her lips tremble under his. He wanted to unlock the passion he glimpsed again tonight when they had waltzed.

Sophie pointed. ‘We can easily make it to our door, Lord Bingfield. You can see the door from where you are standing.’

‘Sophie!’ Mrs Ravel exclaimed. ‘Where are your manners tonight? First you insist on leaving before I finish my hand at whist and now you seek to dismiss your fiancé like a lackey.’

‘The upset at the Assembly Rooms has quite turned my brain.’ Sophie inclined her head. ‘I merely meant Lord Bingfield did not need to feel obliged. He has done so much for us tonight.
It would be wrong for us to presume further. I didn’t want to put him to any trouble.’

‘I am sure it is no trouble, Sophie. Is it, Lord Bingfield?’

Richard silently blessed Mrs Ravel. Sophie’s earlier caution in confiding in her stepmother had resulted in him gaining a valuable ally, one which he intended to exploit fully. Everything was fair in this battle between him and Sophie’s fears. He intended to win and unlock her passion. He wanted to see what she’d be like when she forgot herself.

He could not remember when a woman had intrigued him as much. She made him forget about his family and his reasons for being in Newcastle.

‘It is not an obligation, but a pleasure,’ Richard added smoothly.

Mrs Ravel shook her head. ‘I do wonder about young people these days. Not an ounce of romance in their soul. You two may say your goodnights in the drawing room. I am quite weary and will take myself off to bed. I do trust you, Sophie. Lord Bingfield, if Sophie failed to inform you—tomorrow and every Thursday is our At Home.’

‘I am grateful for the intelligence, Mrs Ravel.’ Richard gave Sophie a hard look. If she thought
she’d get rid of him that easily, she had another think coming. He intended to exploit the situation to his advantage and see what the woman Sophie tried to hide was like. ‘Sophie and I obviously have had other things on our minds. I’ll make a note of it, but I can’t make any promises.’

Sophie marched ahead of him into the drawing room, her skirt slightly swaying to reveal her slender ankles. She stopped to turn up the gas lamps, bathing the room in a soft light before facing him with her arms crossed and blue eyes glowing like star sapphires.

‘What was that little demonstration with my stepmother in aid of? A goodnight in the carriage would have sufficed.’

Richard assessed her with half-closed eyes. She was attracted to him and he would get her to admit it. Tonight. ‘You haven’t informed your stepmother of our arrangement. I would hardly wish for her to think ill of me. It would be impolite to miss an At Home simply for lack of knowledge. It might cause speculation. I believe there has been more than enough speculation and gossip recently. If you are not careful, people will begin to look at your waistline.’

She flushed scarlet. ‘That … that is an impossibility.’

‘You were the one who uttered the words
about our impulsive marriage, not I. Women who have found their dream man often forget their sensibilities.’

She gave a decisive nod and removed her gloves. ‘My stepmother has gone upstairs. There is no need for you to linger. Or indeed for you to appear at the At Home at all. We can slowly drift away. It will provide an excuse for me jilting you. Ultimately you can forget some important function. Isn’t that what men like you do? Selfishly put their own needs above others?’

Her words stung. Women had flung the words at him before, but generally when he ended the association.

He recalled the gossip of the Northern Counties Club about her icy behaviour. Was it him or all men? He clenched his fist and wanted to murder whichever man had sown the seeds of distrust.

‘There is every need,’ he said smoothly, plucking a stray thread from her shoulder. ‘Your stepmother said your next At Home was tomorrow. For your sake, I need to be there.’

Sophie slapped her gloves against her hand. ‘What is your prediction for my stepmother’s At Home? They are not very well attended. The great and the good often have other calls to make.’

‘It will be full to bursting with well-wishers, people who have grudges and simply the curious, all wanting to know about the great romance and when our next appearance as a couple will be. The polite ones will only stay fifteen minutes, hoping to see us together in their allotted time, but the curious will find an excuse to linger and see if your unknown bridegroom-to-be puts in an appearance or if it was all fustian nonsense.’

A faint line appeared between Sophie’s perfect brows and the tapping stopped as she considered his words. ‘I sincerely doubt it. True, people will speculate of course. I will concede your point—in light of tonight’s events the At Home will be more crowded than usual. I will have the footmen put out extra chairs. But no one will want to meet you or send invitations for the both of us.’

‘I shall rearrange my plans.’ He paused, watching her digest the news. ‘My friends will understand why I have decided to linger in Newcastle for an indefinite period. There was an expectation I would attend a house party in Hampshire next week.’

There was no need to tell Sophie that he had written declining the invitation, before he went to see her this morning and proposed marriage.
The woman who had invited him had expected him to continue to grace her bed. After meeting Sophie, such sport with another woman held no attraction.

He simply refused to allow Sophie to have a hold over him. This wasn’t about love or romance, but satisfying his curiosity. When it was over, he’d walk away with his heart intact and the knowledge that he’d solved the puzzle of Sophie.

‘I’ve no wish to interrupt your plans and be a bother,’ she said, turning towards the fire. ‘You were right earlier when you said I didn’t think. You must go if that is what you wish to do. If invitations do come, the disappointment of you not attending will make it easier to explain the breach when it comes.’

‘If we have a breach too quickly, Putney’s words will be remembered,’ he reminded her. ‘I did make a vow that I would not be used as an instrument of your downfall. With each new scheme you propose, you make it easier for him. I am the one with experience. You are a novice.’

She covered her mouth. ‘I hadn’t considered …’

‘Next time do. It is not just your reputation at stake here, but mine—’

‘Won’t the woman mind?’

He shrugged. ‘I was looking for an excuse to end it. The affair was pleasant while it lasted, but she had begun to bore me. I dislike being bored.’

Her cheeks coloured at the remark. ‘I … I hadn’t thought. I know very little about such matters.’

His shoulders relaxed. Sophie was truly innocent and unlike his normal sort of woman. In her company, he’d been exasperated, amused, bemused, but never bored.

‘I gave you my word that I would not pursue another woman while we are together,’ he said. ‘When I am interested in a woman, my interest stays on her. When it is finished, it is done, with no regrets or backward glances on my part. But I always inform the woman first.’

He clamped his mouth shut. He never allowed regrets. Leaving was far better than being left. And he knew while there might be a few tears, it was always hurt pride, rather than actual feelings. Since Mary, he’d never permitted himself to fall for an inexperienced woman.