Whom Shall I Marry... An Earl or A Duke? (Tricking the Scoundrels Book 2)

by Laura A. Barnes

  “I know who your Violet may be.”

  “I already know. This afternoon I uncovered the mystery surrounding her identity.”

  “Then why this display of affection toward me?”

  “Because I have changed my mind. I no longer desire to make her my duchess.”

  Before Dallis could question Sheffield further, the clinking of a glass interrupted them.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Since we are in disguises, we will not abide by etiquette rules. Gentlemen, please escort the lady nearest to you into the dining room.”

  Sheffield offered his arm to Lady Dallis. When he turned them toward the door, Lady Sophia stunned him. She stood behind him waiting for him to notice her, head held high. The fragrance he gave her invaded his senses. She was exquisite. Her long blonde hair streamed along her back with curls dangling near her breasts. Her dress was a dark violet which displayed her body in a sensual nature. The fabric was cut low to tease him with a view of her breasts. Breasts he remembered only so well. His body stirred as he imagined teasing her nipples with his mouth. As his eyes rose, he saw his necklace around her neck. The amethyst twinkled in the candlelight, reminding him of why he gave her the gift.

  His eyes continued to rise until they encountered hers. As usual they were behind a mask, however now he knew his Violet to be Lady Sophia Turlington. Her eyes held the look of hope. With a need to hurt her, he walked past her without any form of acknowledgement. As he did, tears welled in her depths. The sense of satisfaction he wanted to feel was not as gratifying as he thought it might be. Instead he ached for causing her pain. He pressed the emotion to the bottom of his heart as he proceeded into the dining room.

  When Rory offered his arm and they followed Sheffield and Dallis, Sophia felt how tense Rory held himself. Any other time, she would offer him words of encouragement. However, her heart bled. Alex ignored her at first, then looked as if the sight of her disgusted him. She'd dressed to please him by wearing the dark violet dress and the necklace. She hoped for any sign of recognition. As they entered the dining room, she noticed Sidney place them side by side. Rory made his way around the table to sit next to Lady Dallis. The delight on the young lady’s face when Rory sat made up for the cold shoulder of her dinner companion. Soon Rory turned to Dallis, and the young girl blushed at his attentions. Sheffield continued to ignore Sophia. Instead he talked to Lady Ratcliff.

  On her right sat Lord Holdenburg. She only knew of him by his reputation, they’d never been formally introduced. Sophia noticed him leering down the front of her dress. Sophia also smelt the alcohol wafting off his breath. He leaned closer, causing Sophia to retreat to the side, brushing against Sheffield. He turned with a cold stare when she disturbed him.

  Sheffield noticed Lord Holdenburg ogling Sophia and saw her discomfort. With his anger consuming him, he leaned across to whisper advice to the lord.

  “I hear she favors whiskey over gin.”

  Sophia gasped at Sheffield’s words. How dare he? When she caught his eye, he arched them urging her to deny his accusation. He knew. She didn’t fool him. When did he guess? Now he was furious for not discovering her identity while she was Violet. Sophia was unsure how far he would play this game. Well, two could play, Sheffield. Nobody else recognized her in this room. She decided to push Sheffield to a new level of anger.

  “At one time, Lord Holdenburg. However, after tonight gin might be a new flavor I enjoy.” Sophia grabbed his glass and took a sip. She wanted to gag from the awful drink, but restrained herself. Her tongue traced her lips and she softly moaned with pleasure.

  Lord Holdenburg eyes widened at the shameful display. Ever since Wilde married Sidney, Holdenburg held the title of the worst scoundrel of the ton. He was attractive and charming. But also a gambler and a drunk. Still, Sophia decided he would do for tonight. Sidney’s Plan B would not work, so Sophia needed to improvise to Plan C. It entailed making Sheffield so jealous he would beg at her feet for her love. She noticed Sheffield’s hand tightened into a fist on the table. He was not as immune as he displayed.

  “What is your name, beautiful?”

  “You may call me Violet,” she told Lord Holdenburg, staring into Sheffield’s eyes.

  “Violet.” Her name purred from his lips.

  Sheffield blazed a fury into Sophia’s eyes. Violet was his name for her, nobody else’s. How dare she sully their time together by letting that reprobate utter her name? She arched her eyebrow at him, daring him to object. She wanted to play. Well, let’s play, Lady Sophia.

  “A bit more advice, Lord Holdenburg. Violet enjoys many pleasures.”

  “Is this knowledge from your own experiences with the exquisite Violet?”

  “A gentleman does not tell.”

  “As if you have ever been a gentleman, Your Grace,” Sophia gritted between her teeth.

  Soon all conversations ceased as Wildeburg welcomed his guests into his home. After a toast to his new bride, the servants served the first course. Sophia fumed in her seat at the audacity of Sheffield’s innuendo to Lord Holdenburg. She wanted to see if he was as cruel as his words, or if she still held an effect on him. She lowered her hand to her lap, pretending to fuss with her napkin, and spread her fingers across Sheffield's thigh, slowly caressing higher. She smiled as his body tensed. He didn't pull her hand away, so she raised the stakes, brushing across his cock, then away again. When her hand wandered back, it was to find him hard for her. With a few caresses, his hiss whispered past her ears, and she knew he still enjoyed her touch.

  His body overruled his mind at her caress. He craved her touch. At first, he wanted to see how far she planned to test his patience. However, when her hand swept across his cock, all thoughts of fury fled his mind. As she continued to caress him, Sheffield couldn’t control himself. He was hard for her and desired more than her fingers on him. When she attempted to draw her hand away, he caught it and held tight. She couldn’t tug against him without bringing attention to herself. She'd thought to torture him with her touch. Well then, she could finish. He guided their strokes. A blush spread across Sophia's cheeks and Sheffield smiled as she squirmed in her seat. He'd turned her power-play against her. Did sweet Sophia imagine she could compete against him? When her eyes pleaded with him to let her go, his heart gave in. He released her trembling hand, laying it back on her lap. His eyes sent a message to cease her attack. The message she returned to him was never.

  Sophia read the message in his gaze. She could no longer stop trying to win his love than she could stop loving him. He'd turned her strategy on her, however it only proved her point. He still wanted her. His cock grew hard underneath their strokes, displaying his need. When the servants brought the dessert in Sophia's eyes flew to Sidney. Her devious smile urged Sophia to tempt Sheffield until he caved.

  The lemon concoction rested in front of him. The devilish minx thought a simple dessert would entice him. Ahh, she had much to learn. He was stronger than she thought. Sure, the dessert brought forth memories he would reminisce on for the rest of his life. But it would not deter him from exposing her secrets. He would ruin her tonight, so that no man would ever want her. Including himself.

  Sophia remembered the last time she'd tasted this wonderful treat. It was their final night together. He'd licked the dessert off every inch of her body. She trembled from the memories. She dipped her spoon into the lemon treat, brought the pudding to her lips and moaned her delight. It came out more sensual than she meant. She sensed the other guest’s eyes on her, but Sophia no longer cared. She only wanted Sheffield's gaze on her as she ate the dessert. And they were. She felt them drilling into her. Sophia took another bite, savoring the tartness on her tongue. A bit of cream stuck to her lips.

  Her tongue slid along her upper lip. If he was hard before, he ached now. Her moans after every bite aroused him. And when she licked the cream away, it took everything in him to not throw Sophia over his shoulder and find somewhere private to make love.

  “
Your Grace, do you not like your dessert?” she asked with innocent eyes.

  It was time this game ended; he no longer wanted to play. “Only when I have licked it from your body have I ever enjoyed lemon pudding as much, Lady Sophia.”

  The room fell silent. The game was over.

  Lord Holdenburg, who was beyond drunk, didn’t understand the severity of the situation. “Are you saying, my good man, this exquisite creature Violet is the lovely Lady Sophia Turlington?”

  Sheffield didn’t answer him, his gaze trapped in Sophia’s. The shock on her face punched him in the gut. He'd meant to hurt her as deeply as he could, to cause her the same pain he felt at her deception. However, after the words spilled from his mouth, he regretted them. He understood then that her game tonight was in innocence, while his intended ruination. Damn. She always wanted to avoid scandal, and he threw her into it. The implications would impact her for the rest of her life, while he would remain unscathed. He called himself a bastard as his hand reached out to her. She shirked from his touch, a horror in her eyes he would never forget.

  Sophia calmly rose from her seat and laid her napkin on the table. With her head held high, she untied her mask and let it drift into Sheffield’s lap. She heard the gasps as she revealed her identity. Sophia no longer cared. He'd proved to her this evening to be the ass he always was. She'd hoped he would be Alex, only to be crushed by his cruelty as Sheffield. She turned and walked out of the dining room. Once she hit the hallway, her feet led Sophia to the garden to hide in the dark with her pain.

  Every set of eyes at the dinner table were fastened on Sheffield. Nobody moved. He stared at the mask in his lap, remembering how her violet stare filled with tears as he ruined her. She didn't shed them, instead holding her head high and leaving the room as the duchess she was meant to be. During their week together, she'd hidden behind a mask only to discover a passion that frightened her. He'd worn no mask, but had been blind to the love she gifted him.

  “Sheffield, leave my house now.” Sidney demanded.

  “I am...”

  Wilde rose and came to Sheffield’s side, pulling him from the chair. He recognized the tone in his wife’s voice to know that if Sheffield didn’t leave, she would commit murder. He pulled his friend along into the garden and shoved him on a bench.

  “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  Sheffield couldn’t answer him. He didn't think of the consequences of his actions, that was the problem. He only wanted to hurt her to the same degree he hurt. Instead, he crushed Sophia. Where did she run off to? He must fix his stupidity.

  “Where did she go?”

  “No, you will never see her again.”

  “I must, I have to tell Sophia I love her.”

  “Love? Those were not the actions of a man in love.”

  “I was a fool.”

  “Fool doesn’t even begin to describe you, Sheffield. I am the fool, I convinced myself this charade would end with you discovering the gem Sophia is. I wanted you to find the same love with her that I share with Sidney. Instead, you proved to be the same cold-hearted bastard you have always been.”

  Sheffield didn’t argue with Wilde, for his friend spoke the truth.

  “Leave before Sidney realizes you are still here. She will be on the warpath for you.”

  Sheffield remained in the darkened garden, his heart too heavy to leave. He dropped his head into his hands, his mind in a whirl on how to find Sophia and beg for her love. As he stared at the gravel, he saw her necklace lying between the tiny rocks. When he lifted the locket, he noticed the broken chain. If he stepped foot in Lord Turlington’s home, her father would kill him and Lady Turlington would serve his head on a platter.

  A wave of her perfume drifted past Sheffield. She was near.

  “Sophia?”

  “Sophia, please answer me.”

  Silence

  “Please, my love, I want to hold you. Beg at your feet for forgiveness. I was an uncaring fool to embroil you in a scandal. Sophia, I love you, darling. I have been a bastard with my anger. This afternoon at Belle’s, I figured out and was furious you fooled me. I came tonight to destroy you. And I did, but when I succeeded, my heart broke right alongside yours. Your pain and agony invaded my soul and is gripping tight. I want to wrap you in my embrace while you cry your heartache. When you finish crying, I will take your punches in stride. Please Sophia, answer me.”

  Silent tears streamed down Sophia’s cheeks. Her heart ached with an unbearable sadness. While his words tempted her, she couldn’t stop remembering the hatred in his eyes when he revealed her identity. He'd meant to destroy her, and she didn’t know if she could trust his words now. She loved him, but he hurt her more deeply than she could allow. Also, he spoke of love. Did he understand what love meant? When you loved somebody, you don’t set out to hurt them. You may hurt them unintentionally, but you never mean to destroy them.

  He'd destroyed her with his hatred.

  Her silence spoke her words. Sheffield had taken her beautiful affection and ruined it. He would leave her for now, but not forever. He had done enough damage for tonight. When tomorrow came, he would try to endure to win her love.

  “Goodnight, my love.”

  Chapter Twenty

  For a week, Sophia endured her mother’s rants and her father’s disappointment. Adding to the drama in her home, Sheffield attempted multiple times every day to see her. Poor Harry had to send him away with her denials, if not from Sophia, then from her parents. Today her father threatened to shoot him with his hunting gun, and he even sent a footman to collect the rifle from the estate. It never wavered Sheffield's determination for a chance to plead his case.

  Her mother begged for her husband to accede. She decided if Sophia could wed a duke, then all talk of scandal would vanish. However, her father held a vendetta toward Sheffield that extended past the ruination of his only child. Sophia only wanted to run away and forget she ever gave her heart to him. Her body was numb, her mind empty, her soul in agony, and her heart broken in a million tiny pieces. Sophia only ate when her mother forced her. Sleep only came when exhaustion took hold—only for her to awaken in tears.

  When Sophia ventured outside for the first time in days, she had to sneak away from her mother who either watched like a hawk or insisted a maid guard her. The maid sympathized and helped Sophia to escape. A footman stood near the trees, keeping an eye on her while Sophia sat watching the ducks in the pond.

  A sack landed in her lap. Sophia smiled, shifting to thank Rory for the breadcrumbs she forgot. Instead it wasn’t Rory, but Sheffield. Or a man she thought to be Sheffield, for he didn’t hold the appearance of an ever-proper duke, but of a man who lived in hell.

  His hair stood in disarray, his face covered in whiskers. The clothes were a disheveled mess. He wore no vest or cravat, and his shirt was untucked from his trousers. His suit jacket appeared as if he slept in it, every inch of the garment wrinkled beyond repair. Sophia noticed two different-colored boots, one brown and one black. When she raised her eyes to encounter his, it was to find his gaze filled with fear. Not only fear, but a desperate heartache that pulled at her.

  “Alex?”

  “Sophia, I ...”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I had to see you.”

  “No.” She rose, looking around for anybody to rescue her.

  “I sent him home. Please talk with me, Phee.”

  “No, you lost all right to address me as Phee.” She held up her hand, backing away.

  He took a few steps toward her. “Sophia.”

  “Stop. I can’t think when you are near.”

  “Don’t think, just feel.”

  “It hurts too badly.”

  “I ache for you, Sophia. Let me ease your pain.”

  “You are the one who caused me this heartache.”

  “I am a fool.”

  “You will hear no arguments from me. Leave, Sheffield. I never want to see you again.”

>   “I cannot leave you, Sophia Turlington, you are the other half of my soul.”

  “No.”

  His words hurt too deeply. Sophia backed away from him again before she did something as foolish as touch him. His ragged appearance worried her. When all she wanted to feel was hatred toward him for his cruel actions, one look at him and she wanted to take care of him. She wanted to kiss away the pain in his eyes. Wanted to touch him to soothe her soul. Wanted to be held by him to feel safe in their love. Were his actions part of the game he played? Sidney said he liked to play games with people’s emotions.

  Her foot struck a tree root causing her to fall backward. The bag spilled out of her hands. The breadcrumbs sprinkled around her when she fell, a few landing in her skirts. The ducks quickly surrounded her, fighting to eat. When they attacked her legs, Sheffield scooped Sophia off the ground and into his arms to rescue her from the small creatures.

  The sensation of holding her was heaven. But when she started to cry, it turned to hell. He carried her to the bench in the gazebo for privacy. She cried into his shirt. He untied her bonnet and stroked her hair as he murmured soothing words. Which only made her cry harder. He was at a loss; his heart stalled from a fear that he'd pushed her too far. Sophia would never forgive him.

  When he'd seen Sophia sitting all alone in the park, Sheffield hurried to the nearest house and begged for a sack of breadcrumbs. The cook took pity on him, assuming he was a beggar, and told him to return after dinner for meal scraps too. Sheffield rushed back to the park, hoping she would still be here. When Sophia refused to speak with him, he fell into a deeper despair. Now as she cried, he wanted to cry with her. Her pain consumed him. After a while, her tears subsided with a couple of hiccups.

  He raised her head and brushed his thumbs across the drops, wiping them from her cheeks. She lifted her violet eyes to his full of sadness. He reacted the only way he knew how and brushed his mouth softly across hers. His lips slow and gentle as he caressed her lips. She stilled, but didn’t pull away. He slid his tongue across her lips as he teased her mouth to open for him. When she did, he wanted to sigh. Instead he kissed her deeply, slowly, drawing out one kiss into another. So slow and tender, making her feel cherished. For that was his greatest wish; to cherish her as the love of his life.