Читать книгу Regency Affairs Part 2: Books 7-12 Of 12 - Ann Lethbridge - Страница 35

Sophie sighed happily, leaned back against the horsehair seat in Richard’s carriage and closed her eyes as the carriage started off from the cricket ground in Jesmond.

The day had gone perfectly from start to finish. She knew it wasn’t strictly proper, but she had adored having the rest of the team crowd around her, congratulating her on her skill at batting. Mr Armstrong had asked her to play the next time. Sophie declined with a laugh, but it felt good to be asked. Richard had been very silent while this was happening, glowering in particular at Mr Armstrong as if in truth he were a jealous fiancé, instead of a pretend one.

She gave a sideways glance at Richard. Was it possible to fall in love with someone after only a few short weeks? Or was it simply the heady romance of the moment? Finally, after so many years, to be free of the guilt and the shame of that one night?

It would be easy to start to depend on Richard, but it also would be a huge mistake. Once Robert and Henri returned, Richard would go out of her life for ever. All this pleasantness would be mere memories.

‘I was sorry not to say goodbye to Miss Grayson,’ she said, putting the thought from her mind. ‘I looked for her after the match, but she had gone.’

‘Who?’ Richard sat bolt upright next to her, suddenly alert.

Sophie shivered and made a show of straightening her gloves.

‘The lady I told you about when I met you on the way out to the crease. She was pleasant and bubbly. She had just become engaged to the bowler who took your wicket, the one I hit for six.’

‘Ah, the one with the brother. You told me about her when you went to the crease.’ There was a new note to his voice, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. ‘Was there some reason you brought her up again?’

‘Yes.’ She turned towards him and leant forwards. His eyes watched her much as a cat might watch a mouse. Her hand toyed with the collar of her blouse and his eyes followed her hand as if he wanted to touch her there. An awareness of him filled her.

A sudden recklessness filled her. The fearful Sophie would have ignored it, but the new Sophie, the one who dared play cricket with gentlemen and win, wanted to test her theory. He was not indifferent to her. He had been jealous earlier.

‘I wondered if her brother was at the match. Do you think anyone could be as good as Miss Grayson painted this man? Such a paragon of virtue and apparently extremely handsome,’ she added for good measure, embellishing the story.

‘Does it matter what he looks like?’ Richard’s face became very stern. ‘Speculation does no one any favours. You of all people should know that by now.’

‘You never know.’ Sophie toyed with her gloves, straightening the seams, rather than looking at him. Every fibre of her being was aware of him and the way he glowered. He was jealous, she realised with a start. ‘They live in Newcastle. We must travel in the same social circles. I wish I could figure out why I thought at first I must know her from somewhere. I felt we could be friends. It is all most peculiar.’

‘Leave it, Sophie. You are unlikely to encounter this lady again … if you haven’t encountered her before.’ His voice held a certain finality. Sophie twisted her engagement ring. It was amazing how it felt part of her now. She had become accustomed to wearing it. She gave a soft sigh. But she had no right to it, not like Miss Grayson and her ring. Hers was a lie from start to finish, doomed to end in three weeks at the outside.

After today, she must refuse his invitations or else her heart would be seriously involved. And he wouldn’t be jealous. Jealousy only happened if feelings were involved.

‘I suppose you are right,’ she said as a pang ran through her. No more conversations. No more gentle teasing. No more cricket matches. ‘I was simply curious. It intrigued me, that’s all. To have a sister that devoted. She swore that the only reason she was engaged was down to him.’

Richard’s voice became even colder. ‘I am sure he is not worth wondering about.’

She turned towards him, surprised. Normally he encouraged her to talk about people and make observations. ‘Is there some problem? You were quiet during the celebrations afterwards.’

‘I don’t like the thought of you wondering about men when you are engaged to me.’

He regarded her with a fierce expression. Sophie’s heart thumped and her lips tingled. He was jealous! Truly jealous of an unknown man, simply because she’d expressed an interest in that man. Her earlier instincts were correct. A heady sense of power coursed through her veins. He did feel something for her. Maybe they would not have to part for ever. Maybe it could blossom into something more. Maybe the romance was real, instead of pretend.

She wanted him to kiss her. Thoroughly and completely. Here in the carriage where no one could see. She wanted to see if his kisses were different when feelings were involved. And he would if she pushed him a bit further. The knowledge thudded through her, making her limbs feel weak.

She felt as if she was playing with fire, but that only served to make her feel more reckless. She could do anything she set her mind to. She had hit that six and won the game!

One single kiss to end a perfect day. She was safe with Richard. She trusted him to stop when she said so and she did know the boundaries.

The knowledge thrummed through her. She loved him and she wanted to pretend that she was worthy of experiencing romance in the same way Miss Grayson had. She wanted to prove once and for all time that she wasn’t like those names Sebastian had called her. She wanted to believe for a little while that this romance was real. She could risk one kiss without endangering her reputation.

She tilted her chin in the air and lowered her lashes.

‘Strictly speaking we are not engaged nor are we ever likely to be. We are merely using it as a convenience to stop untoward comment. Therefore I can speculate all I like. My heart belongs to no man.’

The blood raced through her veins and she hoped that he would not see her blatant lie. But she knew she had to provoke him.

He gave a soft curse and pulled her firmly into his arms. His lips lowered and captured hers.

Where his other kisses had been gentle and coaxing, this one was possessive and demanding. It seemed as though he wanted to brand her. A warm thrill went through her and she yielded up her mouth to his, opening under his onslaught, tasting the interior of his mouth. Their tongues tangled, retreated and then met again.

The warmth became a wildfire and she knew she wanted more than this one kiss. Her body desired his touch. She arched forwards, bringing her arm about his neck and holding his head against hers as their mouths continued to do battle.

His arms pulled her tight, knocking her straw hat down to the floor. He rained little kisses on her face, nibbling and caressing her as if that one touch had unlocked the floodgates of passion. With each new touch, her heart beat faster and she knew she had to have more. She had been wrong to think that one kiss would satisfy her.

Sophie dug her hands in his hair and felt its silky smoothness against her fingers and brought his mouth back to hers. She opened her mouth and took him fully inside, and suckled, allowing her instinct to guide her.

Her breasts grew full and strained against her corset, causing her blouse to choke her. She tugged impatiently at it, seeking relief from its constriction, squirming against Richard’s chest. He clasped her to him, preventing her from moving.

‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘My blouse, it’s choking me. Far too tight.’

‘Allow me to help.’

‘Yes.’

His hand roamed down her back, stopping on the tiny buttons and then skimming upwards. Her body arched forwards.

‘Please,’ he growled in her ear. ‘Let me.’

All she could do was nod. His hands started to undo the blouse. Her blouse immediately loosened and he slipped his hand under the fabric, sending little licks of fire coursing through her body as he stroked her skin and his mouth tugged at her earlobe. Her body arched forwards. This was what she had been longing for—his touch. It felt so right and necessary.

His fingers moved ever lower, reaching her breast. One finger brushed her nipple, turning it to a hardened point. With the other hand, he pushed the material down on to her arms so that the tops of her breasts were exposed.

Slowly he lowered his mouth, placing tiny kisses on her throat until he reached her breast. He tilted the breast so that the dark-rose nipple just peaked out and captured it, running his tongue over it. Again and again he circled until it hardened to a tight point.

She moaned in the back of her throat as stars exploded around her. Her body surged upwards and she knew she had to have more. She wanted to feel his skin beneath her fingers. She wanted to see if her dreams were real.

She reached out and stroked his chest. Her hands went to his neckcloth and started to undo it. She wanted to see if the strong column of his throat was as soft as his face.

Instantly he froze. His hands went to hers and stilled them. He lifted his head and looked at her with dark passion-filled eyes.

‘No,’ he said in a ragged voice. ‘Say it, Sophie.’

‘No?’ she whispered. Surely he couldn’t mean to stop. Her body wanted—no, needed his touch. She wanted to touch him like he had touched her. ‘Why not?’

‘Just say it. Like you mean it. You must, Sophie!’

‘No! Richard—’

He put two fingers against her aching lips and shook his head, before flopping back against the cushion. ‘Because I refuse to have your first time be a frantic coupling in a carriage.’

Sophie looked down at her naked breasts. They puckered slightly in the cold air now that his mouth wasn’t on them. Exposed. Lewd and wanton. All the words she’d been called before.

She quickly crossed her arms over them. The delicate fabric of the blouse tore, a loud ripping sound which seemed to signal her reputation was equally torn and shredded.

She struggled to get the words out. ‘My first time?’

His eyes were heavy-lidded with passion.

‘You do know what passes between a man and a woman, Sophie.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Her cheeks burnt. It was all the worse for the gentleness of his tone. He thought her completely ignorant in the ways of men. Another man would have taken advantage of her, but not Richard. She straightened her shoulders. ‘We whispered about it at school, and one of the girls had Aristotle’s Compleat Masterpiece.’

‘How did she get it?’

‘She had borrowed it from her father’s library and sneaked it back after the Christmas break. We passed it from girl to girl until Miss Denton found it and destroyed it. She would have expelled the girl, but her grandfather was an earl.’ Sophie gave an uneasy laugh. Talking made it easier to forget what she had nearly done, how she was truly wicked rather than good. Her last few years of keeping herself aloof had been for nothing. She forced a soft laugh which sounded far too throaty. ‘You would not have believed the uproar.’

‘But you read it first. You were not the sort of girl to allow an opportunity like that to slip between her fingers.’

Sophie gave a reluctant nod. He seemed to know her young self so well. ‘It was full of astonishing information. I wanted to know. Thinking back, it probably was one of the reasons why I was such easy prey.’

‘You have a good instinct, Sophie. It is better to know than to be frightened.’ He reached out and pulled her over to him so that her head lay against his chest. The racing thud of his heart resounded in her ear. ‘You did the right thing. Cawburn took advantage of you and your good nature. Never stop believing that. You are delightful, innocent and very much a lady.’

She started to sit up, but he gently held her there with one hand, while the other moved her blouse up over her shoulders, straightening her costume with almost impersonal expertise.

‘Shush now, let me put you right. Nothing happened here that can’t be fixed. I am to blame, not you.’

His fingers neatly did up her back. He was probably used to playing the ladies’ maid, Sophie thought miserably.

He knew how this game was played and she had only heard rumours and read the book. She knew the theory and none of the practicalities. She should feel better that he accepted the blame, but all she felt was hollow and depressed. Her inexperience had stopped him, not her virtue.

She’d hate herself later, but right now, even the impersonal touch of his putting her clothing to rights made her thrum with desire. She’d spent years denying what she was and now she knew.

When he had finished, he set her from him. His face was very serious, far more serious than she had ever seen it before.

‘If we continued on,’ he said in a low voice, ‘I would have been unable to stop. I was barely able to control myself as it was. You do understand how hard it can be to stop when two people desire each other, don’t you?’

‘I suppose you say it was all my fault. I should never have goaded you.’ The words tasted bitter in her mouth. He was going to behave precisely like Sebastian Cawburn. She had been wrong to think any differently. It was all her fault for allowing the romance to go to her head. She couldn’t be trusted. ‘And I should be grateful for your restraint. My behaviour must disgust you. It falls so far short of what is socially acceptable.’

He placed two fingers over her mouth and shook his head.

‘I want you, Sophie,’ he said slowly and patiently. ‘I have wanted you since the first time I held you in my arms. I want you more than I have ever wanted a woman. But not here and not like this. I want it done right. There is far too much at stake.’

‘You want me?’ she whispered. Her heart gave a little leap. She didn’t disgust him. He desired her. But desiring her didn’t mean he wanted to marry her or even that he cared about her.

‘Desperately.’ He took her hand and placed it on the front of his trousers. He was rigid beneath her palm. Her traitorous fingers itched to linger and trace the line of him.

Sophie jerked her hand back as if it had burnt her. She was all the words Sebastian had snarled at her—wanton, a cock-tease and worse. She had the soul of a loose woman. She had fought for years, trying to deny it, but she’d proved it in this carriage. She’d allowed her heart to overrule her common sense. She would have to take steps. They would have to end today.

‘I suppose you want me to thank you for your forbearance then, for resisting your baser instincts,’ she said, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘It was an act of singular virtue. It won’t happen again. I have learnt my lesson.’

‘Thank me for what?’ Richard asked, remorse and regret swamping his senses. Sophie made it sound as though he was a saint. He was far from that.

He had gone further than he wanted, but the result would be the same. There could be no objections to their marriage … from anyone. He could make sure that she stayed in his life. He had wanted her to have a choice, but now she had none. He had to keep her off balance and use the desire she felt for him to achieve his goal. He knew the power of seduction and had sworn not to use it against Sophie, but he saw no other way of securing her agreement in marriage.

‘For saving me and reminding me of what could have happened here.’ Sophie made a helpless gesture with her hand. ‘I will hate myself enough as it is later. I thought I was better than that, but obviously I was wrong. I overestimated my own virtue. We will have to end after today, never be alone again. I thought you should know I do appreciate the way you have protected me, even from myself.’

‘I think you want me as well.’ He forced his voice to continue on as if she hadn’t spoken. Her virtue did not stand a chance against his seduction. He’d known that since the first time they kissed. Now, he’d broken his promise. He was seducing her, but seducing her into a marriage, a marriage which was not the sort she wanted. He could not promise love. He didn’t believe in it. The very thought of it scared him to death. To love someone was to be abandoned when you needed them the most. When given a choice, those he’d loved had chosen someone else.

His heart thudded so loudly he thought she must hear. Sophie had no choice if she wanted to remain within society—she had to marry him. Just now he’d taken every other option from her.

Because of her desire to appear virtuous, she wouldn’t abandon him, even if she found out what he was truly like. Even if she found out that his mother had not wanted him and his father wasn’t interested in him beyond what was required of his duty.

It bothered him that a small piece of him wanted her to have a choice. For once he wanted someone to choose him, but he also knew he wasn’t prepared to take the risk. He’d deal with the consequences later. He’d trust Sophie’s desire to appear virtuous would outweigh any need to escape from the marriage.

‘There are two people in this carriage, Sophie. You kissed me back, more than dutifully kissed me. There was passion in your kiss and I heard your cry when I suckled your breasts. You enjoyed it. But you deserve better than this for your first time. You deserve white sheets and a closed door. You deserve time, rather than frenzy. It needs to be done properly, Sophie.’

‘It was wrong of me. It won’t happen again.’ Sophie stared straight ahead, not meeting his eye. ‘No one has to know.’

‘You are wrong there. You and I both know and I have little desire to forget.’

Tears brimmed in her eyes. It took all of his self-control not to pull her into his arms. But he had gone too far already. He had to make certain she would be his. He refused to risk losing her. Once her former guardian returned, the objections to his suit would overwhelm her desire for him. He had to act now. He had to be ruthless about it.

‘But we can be strong,’ she whispered.

‘This thing between us is growing. It is not diminishing.’ He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Say you feel it as well and it is not just me who is waking every night in a hot sweat with your name on my lips and the dream of you in my arms.’

Sophie knew he was right. The ache in her middle had grown and she knew she craved his touch. For the past ten days, she’d woken with her hand between her legs, a nameless ache in her middle and Richard’s name ringing in her ears. Every night she promised herself that this time she’d dream of something else and she never did.

During the day, she found herself hoping that he would call unexpectedly and reliving each one of his accidental touches when he was not there. She had taken to sketching the shape of his eyes, the way his hands looked when they held his cane and the curve of his mouth, most especially the curve of his mouth.

She wanted to feel ashamed about what she had done in the carriage, but she found it was impossible. He made her feel womanly and desirable. He was right. She might be wicked, but he was totally different from Sebastian. He had stopped it before she was utterly ruined. It had been him to pull back, not her, and she’d know that to her dying day.

She shook her head and tried to get control of her wayward thoughts. There were so many reasons why they needed to end it today, before the unthinkable happened and she was utterly ruined. But she could not bear the thought of never seeing him again, never hearing his voice or having his lips against hers. But he had said nothing of marriage.

‘I suppose it is best that no one discovered us.’ She waited for his agreement.

‘And if I say that I want you in my bed? I want to spend hours exploring your body? I want to see your golden hair spread out against white-linen sheets. I want to see what moonlight does to your skin. I want to wake up in the morning and have your face be the first thing I see.’

‘It can’t happen.’ She forced her shoulders to relax. The picture he painted was doing strange things to her insides. He had only mentioned desire, she reminded her rebellious heart. And she knew where that led. She refused to go back to that room where she felt unclean and sordid, even for Richard. Silently she bid the picture goodbye. A deep empty well opened within her. Richard Crawford was precisely like Sebastian Cawburn and she’d be wrong to forget that. She’d refused his first offer, had insisted on this sham and why would he ask her again, particularly now when he knew what she was like? ‘You are wrong to ask me.’

‘It can happen.’ He leant forwards and smoothed a tendril of hair from her forehead. ‘It can, Sophie.’

‘How?’ she whispered from aching lips. ‘How can it? If I do that I will be outside society and I refuse to behave that way, even for you, Richard. How can you ask this of me, knowing all that, knowing my background?’

‘You wrong me.’ He gathered her in his arms and pressed his mouth to her hair. ‘There is only one remedy, Sophie. We must marry.’

She leant back against his arms and tried to ignore the sudden leaping of her heart. He wanted to marry her! He was asking her again. She quashed the thought. Men like him dealt in some day, not in reality. They were back to where they had started. ‘You mean in due course. Some day. Easy words, but you are asking me to take an unacceptable risk.’

He laced his fingers through her hand. ‘No, I mean as soon as possible. A special licence. I take full responsibility for what happened here and I would never insult you by making you my mistress. My honour gives me no alternative but to make you my wife … if you will have me.’

‘A special licence?’ Her heart thudded. Richard was utterly serious. And despite her actions, he was prepared to behave honourably. She’d wronged him in thinking he wasn’t safe in carriages. It was she who wasn’t, but this time it had worked out.

‘Neither of us is made of steel. The next time, we might not be so lucky and we might be discovered. The choice would be taken out of your hands. Either marriage to me, or confess to your stepmother on your own and you know she will look at your state of undress and make the logical conclusion.’

‘But … but …’ Sophie tried to think of a logical reason while her heart soared. Richard was right. They could be married by a special licence. Given Richard’s family background, there would be no problem in getting a licence. He wanted to truly marry her. He felt the same way about her. He had to. She put her hand to her head. Against the odds, he had proposed a second time. If she refused, there would be no third time.

He placed a gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth. The touch was filled with possibility. ‘Say yes, Sophie. Put me out of my agony. Or let me go, but don’t keep torturing me in this way. Say yes, Sophie, and come into my bed. Be my wife, please.’

She knew in that instant she couldn’t allow him to go, even though he had not mentioned finer feelings or love. He made her feel alive. If he went, the world would be a miserable place. She had to take the greatest risk of her life. She had to believe in the romance. She had to do it or face a lifetime of wondering what might have been. He might not have said anything about his finer feelings, but she had to believe in them. She wanted to believe in this improbable romance.

‘Yes,’ she whispered back. ‘We will marry as soon as possible.’

‘Sophie! What on earth has happened to you?’ Her stepmother’s outraged voice greeted Sophie the instant she walked in the door. And she knew Richard’s ministrations as a lady’s maid had failed.

As she caught sight of her hair, her ripped blouse and her overly kissed mouth in the hall mirror confirmed her hunch. There was no hiding what she had done. She was only thankful that Richard had immediately ordered the carriage to start moving again and that he had simply held her hand all the way back home.

‘Congratulate me, Stepmother.’ A huge bubble of excitement coursed through Sophie’s veins. She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m proud to announce I am getting married to Lord Bingfield.’

‘I know you are getting married. When Robert and Henri return from the Continent. It is all decided.’ Her stepmother clasped her hands together. ‘You told me this not three days ago when the news that the settlement had been reached. I’m so grateful that Henri will be able to help with planning the engagement party. It should be the pinnacle of the summer’s entertainment. An autumn wedding will do.’ Her stepmother walked around Sophie. ‘I want to know what has happened to you! If anyone saw you … well, they’d think the worst. Did the carriage turn over? You look as if you have been through a hedge backwards.’

Sophie was grateful for Richard’s hand in the middle of her back. He was there, supporting her. They had discussed in the carriage about the best way to tell her stepmother. While Sophie had wanted to tell her on her own, Richard refused to hear of it. They were doing it together or not at all.

‘We are marrying as soon as practicable, Mrs Ravel,’ Richard said in a tone which allowed for no opposition. ‘I will see the Bishop after I leave here. There will be no problem with obtaining a licence.’

‘But the settlement, the party after Robert and Henri arrive, the society wedding. The wedding breakfast.’ Her stepmother started to fan herself. ‘I want it to be special … for Sophie. Everyone is sure to want to be there.’

Sophie’s insides twisted. All of her white lies to placate her stepmother were coming back to haunt her. But would it have been any better if she’d known the truth? a little voice inside her nagged.

‘Sophie! Are you going to answer me?’

‘Sophie and I—’ Richard began, but her stepmother turned towards him, fury contorting her face.

‘Pardon me, Lord Bingfield, but I want to hear my stepdaughter’s answer. It seems from the look of her that she has been up to mischief and I want to know how deep this mischief runs! Sophie, what have you done? Did you go to the cricket match? Or did you go to an inn? Are you breeding?’

‘Mrs Ravel!’ Richard thundered.

Sophie gave Richard’s hand a squeeze. She’d have to play this out. To confess to her stepmother what she had just done and why a marriage was now imperative, particularly as the engagement had been a false one, was impossible. Her stepmother’s hysterics was the last thing she wanted to face.

‘The settlement is more than adequate and stop using Robert’s approval as an excuse.’ Sophie fixed her stepmother with her eye. ‘Richard’s solicitor agreed to all my demands and you know they were designed to protect mine and Father’s fortune. I showed you the letter from the solicitors. Robert and Henri will understand. We don’t truly know the date they intended to return. Everything else like the wedding breakfast and a large wedding is mere frippery.’

Her stepmother opened her mouth several times, but no sound came out.

‘Even if they did intend to come back in early June, they might be delayed for all sorts of reasons,’ Sophie argued. ‘I don’t see any reason to wait any longer. Sometimes you just know when the time is right. And Richard agrees with me.’

‘But the party? I wanted everything to be special for you. You are to be a society bride. This sudden headlong dash towards marriage sounds like a very hole-in-the-corner affair. People will talk. They will look at your waist and count.’

‘Let them.’ Sophie tilted her chin in the air. ‘I’ve nothing to hide. Let them whisper and titter if they must, but I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of.’

Richard’s hand tightened over hers. She was grateful for the touch. She’d been foolish to worry that they weren’t well acquainted. They would be spending the rest of their lives together and Richard appeared to understand her so well.

‘We shall have to have a ball to celebrate the wedding when we return from the wedding trip. Problem solved. Right, Richard?’

‘I feel certain my father would approve of such a measure, Mrs Ravel,’ Richard said in a smooth voice. ‘We should have two. One in Newcastle and one at Hallington to introduce Sophie to the neighbourhood. After all, she will be the Marchioness of Hallington one day.’

Her stepmother beamed with pleasure and Sophie knew Richard had promised precisely the right thing.

‘And London, let there be a ball in London.’ Her stepmother clapped her hands. ‘It will be the talk of the autumn season.’

Richard squeezed Sophie’s hand tighter. It amazed her that he seemed to instinctively know the prospect of a ball unnerved her. ‘That will be for Sophie to decide. But before any of that happens, Sophie and I will marry. We see no point in waiting. I expect you to attend the wedding.’

Her stepmother’s ribbons trembled. ‘You are eloping?’

‘We will be married by special licence as soon as possible. I intend to see the Bishop of Durham this evening. If he is unwilling, I will travel down to Canterbury tomorrow and get permission from the Archbishop himself. At the very worst we will be married in two days’ time.’

‘What I don’t understand is the sudden need for haste!’ Her stepmother’s eyes narrowed and she examined Sophie’s waist.

Now it was Sophie’s turn to be outraged by what her stepmother was thinking. She crossed her arms and glared. ‘Stepmother.’

‘I want Sophie for my bride; I am hardly likely to take her for my mistress. I value her too highly.’

Value. The word thudded a warning through Sophie. She dismissed it. Value was close enough to love.

‘Your stepdaughter has not been dishonoured, Mrs Ravel. You have my word on it.’

Sophie could hear the unspoken ‘yet’ in Richard’s voice. She swallowed hard, knowing how close they had come in the carriage and whose fault it had been. It could so easily have been a forced marriage. As it was she had had a choice and she had chosen Richard. She loved how she had felt alive in his arms. Her entire body thrummed with the memory.

Sophie held out her arms and willed her stepmother to give in. ‘Please say you will be there. Help me make my wedding a joyous occasion. Give me your blessing.’

Her stepmother threw up her hands in capitulation. The tension flowed out of Sophie. She had won. ‘But the wedding breakfast. Sophie’s wedding dress?’

‘You had best start preparing it.’ Richard’s eyes twinkled. ‘There is not a moment to lose. Once I have the licence, I will marry Sophie in whatever dress she happens to be wearing.’

‘And I am more than happy to wear my white ball gown. We can easily fashion a veil. There is a mountain of tulle lace left from my latest ball gown. I will look like a fashionable bride, Stepmother.’ Sophie gave her stepmother a hard stare. ‘I will not disgrace you or my late father, but I will be married as soon as Richard can arrange it. The alternative is unthinkable.’

Her stepmother turned bright red and hurried from the hall.

Richard’s laugh boomed out. He caught her in his arms and hugged her to him. ‘That went well. Better than you feared. Your stepmother will be at the wedding.’

‘Thank you,’ Sophie said, letting out a breath. He seemed to understand her so well. ‘You made it easy. I didn’t know what I was going to say to her and how to confess about what nearly happened in the carriage.’

‘There is nothing to confess. We were engaged and now we are getting married. It is the natural order of things.’ He placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her entire being tingled with anticipation. She looped her arms about his neck, inviting him to deepen the kiss, but he gave a slight shake of his head. ‘The next time I see you I will have the licence and we can be together, properly.’

A quiet thrill filled Sophie. She had left this morning thinking that she should end their acquaintance and she’d come back a nearly bride. The quickness of it made her head spin.

They were right not to wait. The alternative was far too dangerous. This way they could say that there was no dishonour and that they chose to marry, rather than being forced into it.

She leant back against his arms, memorising the planes of his face and the way a lock of hair flopped over his forehead. Later she intended to draw him from memory so she could have a memento of today.

‘Is everything all right, Sophie?’

Her smile widened. She could tease him now. ‘Then you had best get the licence and I will see about this wedding breakfast you require. Send me a note when you know.’

He nipped her chin. ‘The only thing I require is you in my bed as soon as possible. As my lawful bride.’