Chapter 13
It had been four days since the Blackburns’ ball and Nicholas had still not seen Sophie. He attempted to call on her several times, only to be turned away. He’d visited all of her friends’ homes with vague excuses for calling. He had even ventured to the opera and spent the entire time combing the audience for a glimpse of her.
His valet brushed out his jacket and then slid it over his shoulders. Tonight was the Tilsons’ soiree. He wondered if she would attend. Without calling on her, he had no way of knowing. Perhaps he could drive by her home on the way.
It was exceedingly difficult to make a woman jealous if he never saw her.
“All set, my lord.”
“Thank you, Lane.”
“The carriage is waiting for you.”
“There is no need to wait up for me tonight,” Nicholas said.
“Yes, my lord.”
Nicholas walked up to Emma’s room and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she said.
He entered the room to find her sitting at her dressing table, brushing her dark hair. “Good evening, Emma.”
“Papa, you look very handsome tonight.”
He took the brush out of her hand and grazed it through her tresses. It had been a long time since he brushed his daughter’s hair. He’d missed it. Before her governess arrived, this had been their time together. After brushing and braiding her hair, they would read together in her bed.
He placed the silver brush down. “Do you think I can still put your hair into a queue?”
She laughed. “You haven’t done that in years.”
“I know.” He separated her hair and started braiding the locks. “I believe I have remembered.”
“Thank you, Papa.”
As soon as he finished, he kissed the top of her head. “I am off to the Tilsons’ party. I shall see you in the morning for breakfast.”
“Assuming you don’t stay out too late.”
“And miss our breakfast together? Never.”
“Good, because I must hear about all the beautiful gowns the ladies wore.”
He rolled his eyes deliberately. “You are going to force me to remember what everyone wore?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him. “But only the ladies.”
“Very well, then.”
She stood up and hugged him before he left. “I love you, Papa.”
“I love you too, Emma.”
He instructed his driver to take a detour down Clifford Street before heading to the Tilsons’ party. No matter how much he tried to tell himself he should attempt to put her out of his mind, he could not do it. Truthfully, he didn’t want to erase her from his mind. Passing her house slowly, he noticed a number of candles lit in her receiving salon and two carriages near her home.
He knocked on the carriage to stop the driver for a moment. As he pulled up a few houses away, he saw another coach halt before her home. Selby and his wife clamored down and walked inside the inviting home. Nicholas smiled slowly.
“I am getting out here,” he announced.
The carriage door opened and a groomsman was there to assist him. He walked down the street whistling softly. As he approached the house, Hendricks opened the door in his usual stoic manner.
“Good evening, Lord Ancroft.”
“Good evening, Hendricks. Is she at home?”
Hendricks’s mouth gaped slightly before he recovered. “Please wait in the receiving salon and I will see if she is at home.”
Nicholas sauntered into the room with a smile. He heard Hendricks open the door and the familiar voice of his cousin Elizabeth sounded. Nicholas turned as Elizabeth and Kendal walked into the entryway.
“Nicholas!” Elizabeth walked into the room and hugged him. “What are you doing in there? Come with us to the upstairs parlor.”
“As you wish,” he replied. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
“And you, Ancroft. But you know I would prefer you call me Kendal.”
“Of course.” Nicholas still cringed at the strange accent Elizabeth’s husband had picked up in America. He followed his cousin and Kendal up the steps. As they reached the hall, Elizabeth waited for him. She held out her arm for him.
“Now what could be better than walking into a room with two handsome men?”
Nicholas chuckled. They stepped over the threshold and everyone in the room went silent.
“Look who I found in your receiving salon, Sophie. You should have told him you don’t stand on formalities when it’s just your friends.”
He could have sworn Elizabeth held back a laugh. When his cousin had first seen him, he believed she must have thought he’d been invited, too. But seeing the slight smirk on her lips, he knew what she was about now.
He glanced at Sophie’s bemused face and almost laughed himself. Her eyes turned to slate as her shock turned to anger.
“Good evening, Miss Reynard. Thank you for inviting me this evening.”
Her jaw tightened as if she held in a stinging retort. “Good evening, Lord Ancroft,” she replied stiffly. “If you all will excuse me a moment, I must tell the servants there will be one more for dinner.”
“I am truly sorry if I forgot to reply to your invitation,” he whispered as she passed him. “I might have thought you would
sense
my desire to be here.”
Her cheeks flushed red before she left the room without a word.
“You are a dreadful person, Nicholas,” Jennette reprimanded him. “She had no idea you were coming, and I would wager she never invited you either.”
“I only came to speak with her. Elizabeth invited me up.”
“Well played, Elizabeth,” Avis said with a nod. “I would have done the same.”
“She is going to be furious with you,” Victoria said to Elizabeth.
Nicholas looked over at Victoria and said, “No, she will save her fury for me.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Somerton added.
Sophie walked back into the room looking far calmer than when she had left. As she passed him, she cast him a little glare, but Nicholas didn’t mind at all. He was here with friends instead of a ball filled with people with whom he had no desire to socialize.
He watched as Sophie walked to the small table in the corner filled with decanters. Her blue silk gown had small embroidered lilies at the hem. She turned and walked toward him.
“Sherry, Lord Ancroft?”
He took the proffered glass and gave her a quick salute. She returned to her seat, ignoring him. But he knew she wasn’t disregarding him. Every few seconds, her gaze would slide to him and then back to someone else in the room.
While his friends spoke pleasantly, he and Sophie added little to the conversation. Finally, a footman announced dinner. With all the married couples paired off, he waited to escort Sophie to the dining room.
She took his arm but held him back as everyone left. “How dare you!”
“I only came to call on you this evening. I had no idea you were hosting a dinner party for
our
friends.”
She narrowed her gray eyes on him. “I do not believe you. One of them must have told you about this.”
“No one said anything to me about your party.”
“Well,” she huffed, “you should be at the Tilsons’ soiree instead of here.”
Nicholas smiled down at her. He felt her breath quicken. “Why is that?”
“Because you are supposed to be looking for a wife. You won’t find one amongst the married women here. Unless of course you are seeking one of the married women for something nefarious.”
He pulled her closer to him. “I did not come here to see Jennette,” he whispered. “I didn’t even know she was here . . . but I knew you were.”
She stared up at him with her lips slightly parted. He wanted to feel her sensual lips against his, but it was not the right time. She had to come to him this time.
“Still,” she said harshly, “you should be where the available unmarried women are—the Tilsons’ party.”
“There is
one
unmarried woman here,” he whispered as he arched a brow at her.
“But she is unavailable.”
“We shall see.”
He led her down to the dining room, trying his best to ignore the alluring scent of her jasmine perfume. And the soft touch of her bare hand on his arm. Watching the shallow rise and fall of her breasts, he was certain she felt the same way. The urge to make love with her again continued to increase.
One way or another, he would have her again.
Sophie stopped as they entered the dining room. Since this was an informal dinner with just her friends, she hadn’t assigned seats. Seeing the two empty chairs next to each other meant she would be near him all through dinner. She would be close enough to inhale the clean scent of his soap. He might even brush up against her.
She shook her head slightly and moved to an open chair. He took the seat next to her, which suddenly felt far too close. She could do this, she reminded herself. It was just a dinner.
She had wanted to confront him about his affair in the salon but did not dare with Jennette and Blackburn in the house. All she had to do was manage to get through dinner with him next to her.
As she sipped her soup, she listened to the conversation. Avis and Jennette spoke of their children while Elizabeth and Victoria listened intently. The men talked of politics. Yet, she and Nicholas remained oddly quiet.
“Nicholas, did you know that you and Sophie were in Venice at the same time?” Elizabeth asked before sipping her wine.
Heat streaked across her cheeks. Sophie glared down at her friend. How could Elizabeth do this!
“I did not realize that,” Nicholas said evenly.
“Yes,” Elizabeth continued. “Wouldn’t it have been interesting if you had met there?”
“Interesting, indeed,” he replied before turning to Sophie. “What do you think, Miss Reynard?”
She cleared her throat softly. “Since we had never been introduced before that trip, I doubt we would have even noticed each other.”
Nicholas smirked at her. “Oh, I think we would have noticed each other,” he muttered so quietly only she heard him. “True enough,” he added loud enough for the others.
She attempted to think of some topic to change the conversation. “The weather has been quite lovely lately, don’t you agree?”
Everyone murmured their agreement. Thankfully that seemed to have worked . . . until Jennette spoke up.
“I am not sure I agree with you, Sophie.”
“On the weather? But we have scarcely had any rain—”
“I meant about you and Nicholas meeting in Venice.” Jennette played with her food but ate almost nothing. “After all, you were both English in a foreign country. I believe you would have been drawn to each other just to hear your native tongue.”
Sophie choked on her meat.
“Are you all right?” Nicholas asked.
She nodded and then sipped her wine. “Perhaps you are right, Jennette. However, since we did not meet in Venice the topic is meaningless.”
Thankfully, Avis steered the conversation back to some gossip running through the
ton
. But as she did, Sophie suddenly felt Nicholas’s knee brush up against her leg. A rush of desire washed over her. How could she feel desire for a man who had gotten a married woman with child? He looked over at her and excused himself, but she noticed the humor in his eyes.
When the footman cleared the last of the plates, she rose and said, “Ladies, let the men enjoy their port or brandy while we have tea in the salon.”
Her friends agreed and followed her into the salon. All four of them burst into giggles the minute the door shut behind them.
“I cannot believe you find this amusing!”
“Oh, come now, Sophie,” Avis said as she sat on the sofa, “you have to admit the man is interesting.”
Sophie could never deny that. She found Nicholas interesting, handsome, quick-witted, and so much more. “I suppose he is.”
“I apologize for what I said about you and Nicholas meeting in Venice,” Elizabeth said. “I just think it would have been so romantic to meet in a foreign land. And Venice is such a beautiful city.”
“Yes, it is,” Sophie replied, staring into the empty fireplace. She would never forget that night in Venice with him.
“Why are your cheeks getting so red, Sophie?” Victoria asked with a smile.
Sophie blinked and looked over at her sister-in-law. “What are you talking about?”
“You appeared to be daydreaming and staring at the fireplace,” Jennette added. “Were you thinking about that man you met in Venice?”
This time, Sophie felt the scorching heat on her cheeks. “Perhaps,” she replied vaguely.