One Night Scandal (12 page)
She was wrong about them.
And he would prove it to her.
“The tea will be here shortly,” she said, entering the room again.
“Thank you.”
He picked up the book on the table. Seeing the bookmark, he smiled. “You have not read
Pride and Prejudice
?”
Pride and Prejudice
?”
Her cheeks reddened. “I am reading it again.”
“Oh? And how many times have you read it?”
“Four.”
“Four times! It was a good book but not worthy of reading four times.” Nicholas almost laughed at the look of outrage on her face.
“It is a marvelous book. Maybe you should read it again.”
“Perhaps I should.” He opened the book as if he meant to start reading it right now.
“Not now,” she said in an exasperated tone.
“Very well, then,” he said, placing the book back on the table. “Whatever will we discuss over tea?”
As the footman brought in the tray with tea, Nicholas sat back and watched Sophie. She poured two cups and handed him one. Once she sat back, they spent the next hour discussing topics that made Nicholas smile. From the Greek philosophers to modern politics, she was an extremely educated woman. And yet, until today, he’d had no idea. He wondered why she kept her intelligence such a secret.
The hour closed in on four and he knew he had to leave. But he had no desire to depart. He had enjoyed this afternoon more than any other he could remember.
“I should take my leave now.”
She glanced away and nodded slowly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more.”
He held out his hand to assist her from her seat. A spark of desire raced up his arm with the gentle contact. He should not kiss her but as she looked up at him all thoughts of being honorable fled. Dragging her up against his chest, he stared at her.
“Please don’t kiss me,” she whispered.
He smiled down at her. “Why not?”
“You know why. It will lead to more than a kiss and we cannot do that again.”
“And that would not be good?” he asked with a seductive smile. He wanted to take her upstairs and make love to her all night. But he also knew it would only cause more problems. He admired her being the morally strong one, because he most certainly wasn’t.
“It would be good,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Too good. And cause far too many problems.”
“You are right, of course.” He could wait to kiss her again and during his waiting period, he would court her. He took her hand and kissed it softly. “Good day, Miss Reynard.”
“Good day,” she whispered.
The Duke of Belford sat in his overly large leather chair and tapped his fingers on his cherry desk. It had been well over a week since he’d given his son a list of appropriate women. In that time, his source told him that he had not called on a single woman.
“Lord Witham is here, Your Grace.”
Belford glanced up with a grimace. “Send him in.”
Witham’s call was not unexpected. There was a reason Miss Littlebury’s name was on the top of the list of eligible women. A match between the families would benefit both men. The sound of footsteps preceded Witham’s arrival.
“Your Grace,” Witham said with a bow.
“Come in, Witham.” Belford sat back and waited for Witham to take the seat across the desk from him. “What did you discover?”
“He danced with several women at the Northwoods’ ball. Lady Blackburn, Miss Wainscott, Miss Holden, Miss Smythe, Miss Randall, and Miss Reynard.”
“I know of all of them except Miss Reynard,” Belford said. “Who exactly is she?”
“A matchmaker, Your Grace.” Witham nervously pulled at his waistcoat. “It is said she has the power to read minds and find people their perfect husband or wife.”
Belford laughed sharply until a coughing fit stopped him. Pulling the handkerchief away from his mouth, he noticed a few more specks of blood. “But who is she that Lady Northwood would invite her?”
“People say she is the bastard daughter of an earl and some actress. But no one has actually claimed to be her father. Rumor is he pays for her expenses, but she probably fabricated the story to appeal to the ladies of the
ton
. Most likely she has a protector paying her expenses.”
ton
. Most likely she has a protector paying her expenses.”
Belford’s ire grew. “The daughter of an earl?” Nicholas’s parting remarks were something about the daughter of an earl. He had better not be thinking about Miss Reynard. The duchess needed to be a woman from the right type of family and not some bastard.
“That is what people say. Personally, I do not believe she is anyone of consequence. But there is more, Your Grace,” Witham mumbled, looking down at his hands.
“What?”
“My daughter Justine went to Miss Reynard’s home yesterday.” Witham paused and looked up at him. “As she was leaving, she noticed Lord Ancroft waiting to speak with Miss Reynard.”
“Did she learn his business?”
He shook his head. “She assumed that he must be there for a reading. She thought he might be trying to find the right woman for him.”
Belford tightened his jaw. He knew his son’s taste in women and doubted he was only there for a reading by a medium. “What does she look like?”
“I have only seen her once, Your Grace. She is a beautiful woman with dark hair and gray eyes.”
“Her age?”
“I believe she is in her middle twenties.”
Exactly what his disreputable son would want in a mistress. Belford hoped that was all there was to this relationship because he would never stand for such a woman becoming the next duchess. His son could take as many mistresses as he wanted, once he was properly married.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“No, Your Grace.” Witham rose to leave.
“Wait, Witham.” There was at least one way to make sure his son married the right type of woman. “Would your daughter be willing to compromise herself with him?”
“Your Grace?” Witham’s face paled.
“Don’t look so innocent and shocked. It is done all the time. She need not lose her virginity to him. She just needs to be caught in a serious kiss at a ball. As if she was about to be ravished.”
Witham nodded with a smile. “I will make certain that she agrees to it. My daughter will be your son’s wife and the next Duchess of Belford.”
A slow smile crossed his lips. “Excellent.”
Chapter 12
Sophie awoke the next morning and checked the bed sheets again for any sign of her monthlies. Now close to a fortnight late, she worried that she may have repeated her mother’s mistake. As she sat up, a wave of nausea forced her to lay back down on the bed.
“Oh, dear God,” she whispered once the initial wave passed.
She rolled on her side as tears wet her cheeks. What was she to do now? Her options were limited. She could get rid of the baby, but that wasn’t an option for her. She could have the child and give it to Victoria’s home for orphaned children. Again, she knew she could never do such a thing. Giving up her baby was not a choice for her, which left her with raising the child alone as her mother had done.
Or telling Nicholas.
She brushed away another tear. The only option was to inform him. She would never be able to withhold the fact from him. Nor did she want to. Even if he wasn’t her true love, she was coming to love him already. She had no doubt that he would offer to marry her again. So the only issue that remained was could she marry a man who still loved another woman?
Did she have a choice?
No.
She could only pray that some day he might start to love her as much as he did Jennette. And if not, Sophie would shower her child with all the love she had in her heart.
Sophie sipped her lemonade as she watched the dancers floating across the floor. Thankfully, her sickness this morning didn’t last long, which only strengthened her suspicions. She would have to tell Nicholas soon.
Jennette’s party was a crush but not one person other than Sophie’s immediate friends had even nodded at her. She felt as if she were invisible in the crowded room. Scanning the room, she had yet to see Nicholas, though he’d said he would be here.
Why did she miss him when she’d seen him only yesterday? Perhaps if she had accepted his kiss she would have been satisfied. She almost laughed aloud. His kisses were more intoxicatingly potent than any spirit she’d ever tried. Of course, if she truly were with child, then she could have him again without worrying about the consequences.
Glancing about again, her heart fluttered as she noticed him standing at the threshold of the ballroom. He wore a black jacket, with a burgundy waistcoat shot with gold thread, snowy white cravat and black breeches. Just seeing him stand across the room made her knees weak.
As she watched him, he moved toward Miss Randall and her mother. Why would he be chasing Charlotte? She would never do as duchess. Her dreadful shyness kept her on the edge of the dance floor most balls. Perhaps he was just being kind to her. Or maybe he was one of those men who wanted a retiring woman for a wife so he could dominate her.
Sophie highly doubted that. He seemed to like her show of intelligence yesterday over tea. Their talk had been refreshing. The only person she ever had such stimulating conversation with was Avis. And talking with Nicholas was much more enjoyable.
He bowed over her hand and then led her to the floor. They danced a quadrille, which gave them precious little time to speak with each other. Although, even when they had the chance, they didn’t seem to talk.
“You really must stop staring at him,” said a whispered voice near her ear.
Sophie turned her head to see Avis standing next to her. “When did you get here?”
“A while ago. There are so many people here I could barely make it across the floor to find you.”
She smiled at her friend. “But that is a good thing. A year ago, not even half these people would have been here. Jennette and Blackburn are making good progress with both their house and their position in Society.”
“I agree,” Avis said. “But back to you. The staring must stop. If you don’t marry him, someone else will. And I know I speak for all your friends when I say we would much prefer you over any other woman.”
Sophie turned to her friend with a frown. She didn’t dare mention anything about her pregnancy concerns. Instead, she would pretend she could not marry him. “Marry him? I cannot marry him.”
“Why not?” Avis sipped her lemonade.
“I am not one of you,” Sophie whispered.
Avis tilted her head. “How many people in this room have you matched?”
Sophie looked around and shrugged. “Near twenty. Not that they care. Once they are matched, I am invisible to them.”
“Not to me.”
She squeezed Avis’s hand. “Thank you.”
Even with Avis’s kind words, Sophie realized that she wasn’t part of this crowd and never would be. Nicholas should find a woman who was already a member of Society. As duke, he would need a wife who understood how to move in the
ton
. Something she could never do. She feared she would be an embarrassment to him and hated that thought.
ton
. Something she could never do. She feared she would be an embarrassment to him and hated that thought.
If only life were easier. If only they could wait until the baby was born to discover its sex. Then he could support her if she happened to be delivered of a girl. But she knew he would never take the chance that she might be carrying his heir.
She would tell him of her worries tonight.
Jennette approached them with a tight smile on her pale face. Something was wrong. And Sophie was determined to discover the cause so she could help her friend.
“I’m so glad you both made it,” Jennette said as she reached them. “I cannot believe how many people decided to come.”
“You look a bit overwhelmed,” Avis commented. “Are you all right?”
Jennette smiled. “I am well.”
Sophie clasped Jennette’s hand in greeting or so Jennette would believe. “Thank you for inviting me, Jennette.”
As she held her friend’s hand, she sensed why Jennette appeared so pale. She was pregnant. Early in her pregnancy but definitely with child. Sophie smiled. If she was with child as she strongly suspected, then her baby and Jennette’s would be very close in age.
“Avis, Lady Cantwell asked me to retrieve you. She needed to ask you a question but was too tired to move from her chair,” Jennette said.
“Of course.”
Once her friends had left her alone again, Sophie glanced around the room. She still wondered what had caused him to dance with Charlotte Randall. She walked closer to where Nicholas stood speaking with a man to whom she was not acquainted. Slowly he walked away until she lost him in the crush again.
A few minutes later, sensing his presence behind her, she said, “Miss Randall is not the woman for you.”
“Indeed?” he whispered and stepped closer. “And why not this time? Is she already betrothed? Already in love with another man?”
“No. She is painfully shy. She would be a detriment to your position.”
“Now you sound like my father.” He walked away without saying another word to her.
Sophie bit down on her lip. By not telling him about Miss Wainscott earlier, she had lost his trust in this matter and obviously gained his ire. She would need to apologize to him again before telling him about the possible baby.
Seeing him walk out the door to the gardens, she believed this would be the perfect opportunity. She casually strolled toward the door as her heart pounded in her chest. Once outside, she breathed in the fresh scent of a May evening. She tiptoed down the path, searching for his hiding place. Hearing the low murmur of voices, she stopped and listened.
“What is wrong, Jennette?”
Sophie clapped her hand over her mouth to hide her gasp. He was with Jennette in the gardens . . . alone! What was wrong with him?
“Oh, Nicky, it’s awful.”
“What is awful?”
“I’m with child,” Jennette whispered with a sniffle that made Sophie believe she was crying.
“You told me you knew how to prevent a pregnancy from happening. When did this happen?”
Sophie stood unable to move from the shock. Why would Jennette tell Nicholas something so personal? Could Jennette and Nicholas be lovers? But that was impossible! Sophie had matched her with Blackburn.
Although, that might explain why she couldn’t read Nicholas. His feelings were too confused about Jennette.
“It was that night you returned from Venice. We were both so drunk,” Jennette said.
“Have you told Blackburn?”
“How can I tell him? He’ll be furious!”
Sophie couldn’t listen to another word of this sordid conversation. She ran from the gardens and from the party.
Nicholas walked back into the Blackburns’ ballroom determined to find Sophie and dance with her tonight. After thoroughly scanning the room, he walked toward Lady Selby.
“Lady Selby, how lovely you look,” he said as he bowed over her hand.
“Thank you, Ancroft.”
“Have you seen Miss Reynard? I needed to speak with her about something.”
She smiled. “I did not realize you were acquainted with Miss Reynard.”
“She is trying to match me.”
“Of course.”
She told him Sophie had been here but she hadn’t seen her in quite a while.
After waiting several more moments, he decided to try the garden again. Perhaps she had gone out for some cooler air. He snatched a glass of brandy and headed outside again. But he never found Sophie. Perhaps she’d left early. He sat on a bench wondering why he couldn’t seem to get her off his mind.
“So have you picked one yet?”
Nicholas looked up to see Somerton standing by the brick wall with a half empty glass in his hand. How the bloody hell did Somerton sneak up on him when there was a gravel path he had to walk on? “Pick one?”
“A wallflower to marry.” He sipped his drink slowly.
“Why would you assume that is what I am doing?”
Somerton laughed. “Actually, I don’t believe that is what you are doing at all. I think you are attempting to make a certain matchmaker jealous by dancing with others.”
“And if I am?” Nicholas sipped his brandy, savoring the heady flavors.
“She may not believe it. After all, she has quite the talent for reading minds.”
“So I have discovered,” Nicholas stated. “But why do you care? What is she to you?”
Somerton narrowed his eyes. “A very good friend. Nothing more.”
Nicholas still didn’t quite believe him. Somerton was far too protective of Sophie to be nothing more than a friend. But knowing Somerton as he did, Nicholas knew he would get no information from the man.
“Ah, friendship,” Nicholas said before sipping his brandy. “Interesting how concerned you are over just a friend. Even more protective than I was of Elizabeth. And she is my cousin.”
“Leave it be, Nicholas,” Somerton warned. “There are some things that should never be inspected too closely.”
“Indeed. However, should I desire to marry her, would you object?”
Somerton crossed his arms over his chest. “I do not believe it is my decision to make.”
“True,” Nicholas replied with a nod. “But in order to marry her, I might just need to discover her father’s identity in order to placate my father. Would you happen to know?”
Somerton’s jaw tightened. “I suggest you question Sophie in that regard.”
“I could do that. But we both know you can discover information on any person.”
“I am retired from that business, Nicholas.”
“Are you? Or is there another reason you would prefer not to get involved?” Nicholas stared at Somerton’s tight stance. He knew Sophie’s secret. Nicholas had no doubt. But he also knew that Somerton would take her secret to the grave if necessary.
“Both.” Somerton turned on his heels and walked away before Nicholas could question him further.
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