Sophie's Voice (Sex and the Season Book 4) (4 page)

Was it her voice? Her voice was angelic, and he did want to help her develop it. He truly did believe he could make her a sensation. But something more tugged at him. She was lovely—lovely in a way more understated than usual. She was a beautiful woman who didn't know she was beautiful. Zach wanted to help her find her beauty and appreciate it.

He had to get her to agree to perform in the musical. It would not only help him and his production and be a gift to all audience members who heard her, but he had the distinct feeling that she needed it.

S
ophie had
no sooner returned to the estate than Ally pounced on her.

“Tell me all about it! How was the audition? How did you find Mr. Newland? Isn't he just magnificent to look at? Were you nervous? What did he say about your singing?”

Sophie drew in a breath. “My goodness, how many questions did you just ask?”

“I counted five. Answer whichever you want first. It's no matter to me.” Ally took Sophie's hand and drew her into the parlor. “Now sit here right beside me.” Ally pointed to the divan.

Sophie sat—or rather, Sophie collapsed. Her energy was drained. First singing in front of Mr. Newland and others, and then the kiss, and then dealing with that other actress—all of it had sucked the energy right out of her.

“So come on, tell me. How did it go?” Ally patted Sophie's hand.

Sophie opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the Brighton butler, Graves, and his apprentice, Bertram.

“I do beg your pardon, my ladies,” Graves said, “but a message has been delivered for Lady Sophie.”

S
ophie arched her eyebrows
. A message for her? She never got messages. She hadn't had one since Lord Van Arden had broken off their friendship, and even before that, messages from him had been few.

“Yes.” Bertram strode forward, his cheeks rosy, and handed her the parchment.

“Thank you, Bertram.”

Graves's apprentice had been a footman up until a few weeks prior, when Graves had announced his intention to retire. The Earl of Brighton had conferred with Graves and the other lead servants, and they had decided to groom Bertram to be the new butler. Bertram was shy and awkward, but he was learning quickly.

Graves and Bertram bowed politely and left the parlor, closing the door behind them.

“Whatever could this be?” Sophie broke the seal on the parchment.

“Perhaps you have an admirer.” Ally smiled deviously.

Sophie's cheeks warmed as she remembered her kiss with Mr. Newland. Of course, it meant nothing. Mr. Newland only wanted her to sing in the production. “That is highly unlikely.” She unfolded the paper and read the message.

You were wonderful today.

“I'm on pins and needles here,” Ally said. “Who is it from? What does it say?”

Sophie handed the paper to Ally. “It's not signed.”

“That is odd,” Ally said. “But someone must have enjoyed your audition. Tell me, how did it go?”

“It went…well, I guess. Cameron said I was brilliant, and Mr. Newland wants me to be the new lead soprano in his company.”

Ally shot up from the divan and then clutched at her stomach. “Goodness, I should know better than that.”

Sophie stood and guided Ally back down. “Yes, please, remember the child.” Sophie sat back down beside her sister.

“But aren't you excited, Sophie? This is your big chance to get off of the estate. To make something of yourself. There is so much more to you than you even know, my dear sister. I hate to think of you wasting away your life just sitting in this house.”

“I am quite content with my life, thank you.” But was she? The audition
had
thrilled her. Once she got over her nerves and started singing, only she and her voice had existed.

“What exactly are you saying?”

“I'm saying that I refused the post.”

Ally's eyes widened into saucers. “You cannot be serious. This is an incredible opportunity for you.”

“It's an opportunity that I have no interest in, Ally. I'm quite content with my life the way it is. I don't wish to put myself in the public eye. I'm not meant for that life.”

“Sophie, you are meant for more than knitting, crocheting, and singing by yourself in the conservatory. The world has so much to offer you, and more importantly, you have so much to offer the world.”

“I just don't know…”

“Don't be ridiculous. Now, who might have sent this note?”

“If I had to guess, I would say Mr. Newland. He was very determined to have me join his company. He even told the present lead soprano, Miss Lloyd, that I would be taking her place. She was not thrilled, to say the least.”

“That cheap floozy? Why, you can sing circles around her, and she no doubt knows that. Mr. Newland obviously does.”

“That's quite beside the point. I'm not taking the role.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Ally's eyes gleamed. “Would you care to make a wager?”

Sophie shook her head, letting out a little chuckle. “Oh, no. I've learned my lesson the hard way. You don't play fair.”

“Fair? What is the meaning of fair, anyway? I got you to go to an audition that I knew would be good for you. And it
was
good for you. You proved to Mr. Newland that you have an amazing voice, and he wants you. Seems pretty fair to me.”

Sophie opened her mouth to speak but then pressed her lips together. Did Ally have a point? She
had
been gloriously happy on stage. And though she did love her life, it became tedious at times. But the public… If she put herself out there, she could get hurt. And Sophie had endured enough hurt already in her short life. She couldn't bear anymore.

“Don't you have anything to say, Sophie?”

“Ally, you just don't understand. We are two different personalities. You enjoy being flamboyant, being the center of attention. That has never been my desire.”

“But your voice, Sophie. It should be shared with the world.
You
should be shared with the world.”

Sophie shook her head. “I have no desire to share myself with the world, Ally. I have nothing to give. Father saw to that.”

Ally's facial features softened. “Oh, dear, dear Sophie, how I used to think the same of myself. I considered myself broken, which is why I wanted to marry for money and not love. But then I found Evan, and Sophie, I'm not broken. Someone wonderful loves me, and someone wonderful will love you too, if you open yourself to it. Not only that, you have the chance for thousands of people to love you when they hear you singing.”

Sophie let out a sigh. If only it were that simple. She was not like Ally. Ally was strong.

Ally continued, “Can't you give it a try? For me?”

Sophie gulped. “You know I would do absolutely anything for you, Ally. I owe you.”

“Pishposh, you owe me nothing. It is not for me that I'm asking. It's for you.”

Graves entered, Bertram behind him. “Pardon me, my ladies, do you wish for tea this afternoon?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes, Graves, thank you.”

Ally turned toward the two men. “Graves, you've known Lady Sophie for a while now. And you've heard her sing in the conservatory.”

“Yes, you do have an incredible voice, my lady.” Graves adjusted his cravat.

“Don't you feel she should share her voice with others? She could sing at the Regal Theatre in one of Mr. Newland's productions.”

Graves cleared his throat. “I'm not sure it's my place to have an opinion on the matter, my lady.”

“Actually, Graves, I should like to know what you think,” Sophie said.

“May I speak freely, then?”

“Of course. I would appreciate that.” Sophie smiled. Graves was such a proper servant.

“To be honest, I've never thought much of young ladies making a spectacle of themselves in front of an audience. If I may say so, Lady Sophie, you're much too good for that type of endeavor.”

“Well”—Ally petted her growing belly—“I don't know what on earth you know about it anyway.”

“Now, Ally, that isn't fair,” Sophie said. “You asked his opinion. There is no law in England that says everyone has to agree with you.”

Ally chuckled. “There should be.”

Graves even let out a laugh at that one, though Bertram stood behind him, awkward and cowering.

“Indeed,” Graves said, “I did not mean to offend either of you ladies.”

“We know that, Graves,” Sophie said. “My sister will just have to get over herself.”

“Very well, then.” Graves turned to leave. “Tea will be served in a few moments.”

“It serves you right, Ally,” Sophie said. “You see? Not everyone agrees that I should be on the stage.”

“Graves is old school, Sophie. He's retiring soon, after all. How old must he be, anyway? Sixty years old? Times have changed. We women have voices now—not as loud as we should be, but things will continue to evolve. This is your chance to give something back to the fairer sex.”

“You have faith in me where none is warranted. I have nothing to give.”

Ally started to speak, but they were interrupted by two footmen bringing in the tea tray. Sophie poured tea for Ally and herself, and they each took a plate of finger sandwiches.

“Sophie, I—”

Sophie held up her hand to stop her sister. “Please, let's no longer speak of this today. You wouldn't believe how fraught with exhaustion I am after the audition this morning.” And after the kiss with Mr. Newland, but Sophie wasn't quite ready to talk about that.

“All right.” Ally took a few more sips of her tea and then rose. “If you'll excuse me, dear, I must lie down. Afternoons are so tiring for me in this condition.”

“I completely understand,” Sophie said.

Ally took leave, and Sophie finished her tea and sandwiches. After the tray had been cleared, she curled up on the divan to read, but soon her eyes fluttered closed.

Z
ach rapped forcefully
on the door of Brighton Manor.

The door opened. An older gentleman said, “Yes, sir, may I be of assistance?”

“Yes, if you please,” Zach said. “I'm here to call upon Lady Sophie.”

“I will see if she is receiving guests. Your name, sir?”

“Zachary Newland.”

“Yes, the actor. You work with Lord Thornton at the theatre. Do come in, and I will see if Lady Sophie is available.”

Zach paced the marble hallway for a few moments until the butler returned.

“Lady Sophie will receive you. Please follow me to the parlor.”

Zach's heels clicked upon the marble flooring until they came to a door, which presumably led to the parlor. The butler opened the door, and there sat Sophie, perched on a divan along the back wall.

She looked like an angel, those pink lips slightly moist, her cheeks that bewitching raspberry. His groin tightened.

“My lady,” Zach said. “Thank you for receiving me.”

“You're quite welcome.” Sophie nodded to the butler. “Thank you, Graves.”

The gentleman left the room and closed the door behind him.

“What is it that I can do for you, Mr. Newland?”

“You no doubt already know why I am here, my lady. I must have you for my new production. Now that I've heard you sing, I can't imagine this role being played by anyone but you. You did know that your cousin-in-law, Lord Thornton, wrote the music?”

“Yes.” Sophie nodded. “And I do adore his work. He is a gifted composer.”

“I couldn't agree more, and only your voice will do his music justice.”

“Mr. Newland, I—”

“Yes, my lady, I know exactly what you're going to say. But before you say it, might I persuade you to take a late-afternoon walk with me? You could show me around your estate. I have not visited the Brighton estate before.”

“I see no reason for us to go walking, sir,” Sophie said. “It would be quite improper without a chaperone, as you well know. Plus, I will not change my mind about appearing in the production.”

“My lady, I hope I don't offend, but a woman of your…age…no longer requires a chaperone.”

Sophie's cheeks reddened further. Zach wished he could bite back his words. What had he been thinking? He didn't want to insult the lady. In fact, at the moment, all he could think about was undressing her. But that was not the reason for wanting to walk about the estate with her. If he could get her outside, show her the wonders of creation, perhaps she would agree to share her voice with the world.

“Please, my lady, I meant no offense. All I ask is an hour of your time on this late afternoon. Allow me this one chance to try to persuade you to sing for me.”

Sophie rose. Oh, how he wanted her. That a woman so fetching could know nothing of her charms confounded Zach. Those lips, those raspberry cheeks, the radiant hazel eyes laced with green and gold…

He walked slowly toward her, his feet moving independently. When he reached her, he cupped those berry cheeks, bringing his own head down and pressing his lips to hers.

O
h
, the pleasure… His kisses… After this morning, she had never dreamed she would experience another one. She parted her lips eagerly this time, her body taking over. His tongue twirled with hers, and she tingled all over. Her nipples tightened against her corset. They were so hard she felt for sure he could feel them as she pressed against his chest.

Dear God… Difficult to get her breath… She was…going…to…

Had to break away… Couldn't breathe…

As if he had read her mind, he ripped his lips from hers and trailed tiny kisses across her cheek to her earlobe. He bit and sucked the small lobe into his mouth, and Sophie's knees nearly gave way.

Sophie gasped for air. Such sensation… Truly…
This is why Ally let all those gentlemen take liberties…
She let out a sigh.

“Do you like that, sweet? Does it feel good to have my lips upon you?”

Sophie couldn't find her voice.
Yes, yes!
she shouted inside.

“Tell me, sweet Sophie, how does it feel when I kiss you?”

Again, she was without words. After all, words had limitations. How on earth could she describe the ethereal feelings flowing through her? She knew only one way to show her true emotions—through singing.

“Tell me,” Zach whispered in her ear, “do you enjoy kissing me as such as I enjoy kissing you?”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Oh, yes.”

Zach backed away from her slightly and looked into her eyes, burning two holes in her with his bronze gaze.

“Let us walk together. Show me your estate, and perhaps I can convince you what a grand experience it would be to sing on stage with me.”

Sophie swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded. She would walk with him. After all, they would be outside in full view of anyone on the estate, so she didn't have to worry about him taking more liberties. And what was the harm in spending time with a man who intrigued her? If she asked her sister, Ally would say there was no harm at all.

“Yes, Mr. Newland, I shall walk with you.”

T
hey walked about the estate
, Mr. Newland educating her on the theatre and how he got his start in acting. He'd offered Cameron a job a year ago as the house composer. Cameron, like her, was self-taught, having grown up poor as Sophie had. The stories fascinated Sophie. Mr. Newland himself was a self-made man, having gained a benefactress in Cameron's great-grandmother, the dowager Marchioness of Denbigh.

“Did you…” Sophie warmed all over, embarrassed by the question she couldn't help asking. “With the marchioness…?”

Mr. Newland chuckled. “No, no. She was in her early sixties at that time, and I was a mere lad of nineteen. She didn't expect it or ask for it. Some benefactors do expect, shall we say, benefits, but most don't. Most people do it out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“I see.” Sophie looked down. Her shoes were scuffed with dirt. Drat, she'd have to have Hannah clean them.

Soon they came to a secluded area, one of Sophie's favorite places on the estate. Often she wandered out to the little area to read or sing or just be alone.

“What is this place?” Mr. Newland asked.

“Just a little alcove. I come here often. No one ever bothers me here. It's private from the servants.”

“Would you mind showing it to me?”

Sophie had a brain. She might be naïve and untried, but she knew if she took Mr. Newland into the alcove, he would kiss her again. She should turn around, walk away, go back to the estate, and tell him in no uncertain terms that she was not that kind of woman—no matter that her body was telling her to drag him into the alcove and kiss him senseless.

“It would not be proper, I'm afraid. I hope I haven't given you the wrong impression, Mr. Newland, but I'm not at all—”

“Sophie”—he locked his brown gaze on hers—“please.”

Her skin rippled. Those eyes… She floated into them, losing herself. “Mr. Newland…”

He smiled—a dazzling smile. No wonder he captivated his audiences. “I do wish you would use my given name. Zach.”

“It would not be proper.”

“Who's to say what is proper? Is this proper?” He clamped his lips over hers.

Again, Sophie's legs threatened to collapse beneath her, but Mr. Newland—Zach—held her fast. He ate at her mouth, giving, taking, kissing her with a passion she had never known existed. When they both were nearly devoid of breath, Zach broke the kiss.

“The alcove, Sophie. Now.”

In a pink haze, Sophie led him into the secluded area. The grass was soft as moss under them as he pulled her down onto it. He kissed her again, sucking at her lips, her neck, what was exposed of her shoulder.

“Your skin is so soft, Sophie. I want to touch every inch of it, feel it under my fingers, under my tongue.”

He turned her around and deftly unbuttoned the back of her gown. She stood, petrified, powerless to stop him. Icy fear coursed through her, but words escaped her lips. Part of her wanted this, wanted him.

Once he had finished with her dress, he gently brushed it over her shoulders until it landed in a dark heap on the grassy floor. He turned her around. Her bosom swelled over the tightness of her corset.

“My God, you're lovely.” He kissed her décolleté, the rounded tops of her bosom.

She shuddered. No man had ever seen this part of her, let alone touched it and kissed it. Boiling honey surged through her veins. She should stop him. But the cold hard fact was…she didn't want to.

Everywhere his lips touched, a trail of fiery sparks followed. He kissed her shoulders, her upper arms, and then back to the tops of her breasts.

He inhaled. “You smell heavenly. Like mulled wine, spicy. And vanilla.”

Her breath came in rapid puffs against the top of his head. Surely she would swoon any moment.

“Please, Sophie, may I loosen your corset?”

She couldn't speak. But she nodded. She was defenseless, paralyzed.

He smiled and then turned her around again. He deftly loosened her corset and removed it, leaving her in her chemise and drawers. He turned her toward him and brushed the filmy chemise off her shoulders until it landed in a plop on top of her gown and petticoats.

There she stood, her breasts exposed to his gaze. Would she please him?

The blaze in his green eyes indicated she did.

“So beautiful.” He cupped her breasts and ran his thumb over the tips of her nipples.

She gasped. A jolt shot straight to that foreign place between her legs. Her nipples ached, and her forbidden heat throbbed.

Yes, this was what Ally, Lily, and Rose had experienced, why they hadn't been able to resist. This was bliss. Pure bliss.

“Such sweet pink nipples.” Zach gazed up at her, continuing to rub her erect buds. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Sophie looked down, unable to meet his fiery eyes. Ally was beautiful. Lily and Rose were beautiful. She, Sophie, was merely acceptable.

“Look at me, Sophie.” Zach tipped her chin so that her eyes met his. “Look at me and tell me you're beautiful.”

Sophie hadn't thought her skin could heat further, but it did. She could not say the words. They were untrue. She was not beautiful. She was not desirable. She was nothing. Her father had seen to that. She shook her head, casting her gaze downward again.

And again, he tipped her chin upward. “It's a disgrace that someone so beautiful has no idea how beautiful she is. Will you let me show you, Sophie? Will you let me show you how beautiful I find you?”

Before she could answer, he bent down and took one pink nipple between his lips.

And she thought she had experienced bliss before… Every new pleasure he showed her opened up new feelings inside her, like a flower blooming in the sun. As he sucked the first nipple, he fingered the other one and then gave it a tiny pinch.

“Oh!” The lightning went straight to her core.

She knew about the sexual act, and she couldn't imagine that it could top what she had experienced so far. The kisses, his mouth and his hands on her nipples… What could be better than this? He was consuming her bit by bit, and she didn't care. She wanted to be consumed. She wanted to be consumed until she was a part of him and no part of Sophie remained.

Yes, no part of Sophie remaining. That was what she truly wanted. If she could only meld into Zach, become part of him, perhaps she would like herself more, be able to respect herself.

Zach continued to nibble at her nipples. She arched her back, mentally forcing him closer to her. Oh, the joy, the ecstasy. How could anything be better?

In a flash, Zach had gently pushed her onto the soft grass. He hovered above her, piercing her eyes with his own. Had a more handsome man ever been created? One auburn curl fell off of his forehead, and she resisted the urge to reach for it.

“You are delicious, Sophie. So very luscious.” He trailed his fingers down her arm, across her abdomen, and then reached into her drawers.

Sophie gasped.

Zach nodded his head slowly. “Please, sweet, let me.”

The softness of his finger against the most private part of her shocked and enlightened her. Her skin bristled and tightened, and lightning flashed between her legs.

“You are so wet. So wet for me.”

Wet? What did he mean by that? She would need to talk to Ally later. Right now, she was overwhelmed with feeling, emotion, sensation. And then her breath caught as something slid inside of her most private place.

“Just a finger, love. Don't you worry. Your maidenhead is still intact. Please, let me pleasure you this way.”

Sophie faded into the grass, becoming one with her surroundings. Yes, yes, this was it. No more Sophie, just the pleasure, just the marvelous torment. This was what she wanted… What she needed.

Slowly Zach slid his finger in and out of her while something else—was it his thumb?—teased a tight bundle of nerves at her center.

“Oh, my!” Although she lay still, her hips were moving of their own accord, reaching, running, wanting something more than anything else… What was it? What was she running toward? Her body yearned for something… Just out of reach… Just out of—

Holiness! Something inside her shattered, and tiny sparks started at her sexual center and radiated outward through every nerve ending to her skin where she tingled all over. She was airborne, even though her body was still melted into the ground. She soared higher, higher, higher, reaching the precipice.

Oh, yes, holiness. Anything this beautiful and amazing had to be holy, didn't it?

What on earth had happened to her? She stretched, grasped, tried to seize the awareness and make it last. She held on, gripped the grass at her side, wanting more, more, more…

“Yes, yes, Sophie, that's it. Come for me. Come all over my hand.”

Come? Zach's words didn't make sense. But at the moment, she didn't care. She wanted to hold on to this sensation as long as she could.

She continued to climb, fly, spread her wings…

When she finally began to float downward, Zach was still caressing her most private place, murmuring words of comfort to her.

“That's it, my love. That's it.”

Sophie smiled, completely sated, completely one with the earth beneath her. Though her eyes were closed, vibrant colors danced against her eyelids, and an ethereal sense of peace consumed her, unlike anything she'd ever experienced.

When she finally opened her eyes, Zach sat beside her, looking down at her, his eyes dancing.

“You're so beautiful, Sophie.”

Suddenly, embarrassment overwhelmed her. She was lying here in nothing but her drawers, and his fingers had been beneath them. She sat up quickly and covered her breasts with her arms.

“A shame to cover such beauty,” Zach said, smiling.

“My goodness,” Sophie said, “I have no idea what's gotten to me. Why did I let you…? Why did I…?”

“I'm afraid I can't answer that, sweet, but I'm very glad you did. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Did you?”

“Why… A lady wouldn't… I…I shouldn't say…”

“It's perfectly natural for a woman to enjoy such encounters.”

“That is what my sister always says…”

“Your sister happens to be correct. Now tell me, Sophie love, did you enjoy yourself?”

“I…I cannot say that…”

Zach grabbed her, turned her over his knee, and landed a smack on her bottom. “My lady, for every lie you tell me, I will give this charming rump of yours a slap.”

Sophie cried out, more from shock than pain. What was he doing? A jolt of energy rushed through her, surprising her even more. This was far from the first swat on her bottom she'd ever received, but… The others had been courtesy of a man she despised, a man who'd wanted to hurt her. But this? A handsome and kind man who had just shown her pleasure beyond reality was the perpetrator. It felt different, too. Oh, yes, it stung as any slap would, but the sting was oddly…pleasurable?

What on earth was she doing? Letting a man she hardly knew kiss her, touch her intimately, and now…spank her? Before she could voice her disapproval, his palm came down on her bottom once more.

And once more, energy coursed through her, culminating in that secret spot between her legs that was still sensitive and pulsating.

“Sir,” she said, “I have not lied to you. I do not lie.”

“Oh, my lady, but you did. You experienced a climax, and there is no woman in the world who doesn't enjoy a climax.”

Climax? She would ask Ally about that. Whatever it was, she had enjoyed it—had reveled in it, actually—but a lady wouldn't admit to such things.

“No, of course I didn't enjoy any of this.”

Slap!
Another spank on her bottom, and oh, the sting, the pleasure, the pain… Tiny little convulsions launched between her legs… Could it be? Not the… Oh, yes! She soared again, spiraling out of control! Such a heady sensation! What was happening to her?