Robert couldn’t argue with a word Oberon said. But the fact the man was stupid enough to believe any of those things mattered to Sophie told him how little he really knew about the lady he hoped to make his wife. ‘I’ve always thought,’ Robert said quietly, ‘that as good as is a long way from being a sure thing.’
Oberon’s voice hardened. ‘I don’t like your tone.’
‘And I don’t like being warned to stay away. Now if you’ll excuse me—’
‘Not so fast.’ Oberon’s hand snaked out, his fingers closing on Robert’s wrist. ‘I’ve expended a great deal of effort on Miss Vallois’s behalf. I’ve modified my behaviour, changed my appearance, and I do believe the lady has noticed.’
‘In that case…’ Robert shook him off ‘…you have nothing to worry about.’
‘Don’t do this, Silver,’ Oberon said, his expression turning dark and resentful. ‘Take my advice. Stop now before it’s too late.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘You will come to regret it. I can make things very unpleasant for you and those you care about.’
Robert forced himself to look at the man standing beside him. A man he thought he knew. A man he’d once liked. ‘If you hurt anyone I care about, I will see you burn.’
‘Fine.’ Oberon stepped back, the cold mask of the gentleman replaced by the face of the cobra. ‘Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Robert was halfway home when he remembered Jane’s book. He’d been in such a foul mood after his confrontation with Oberon that he’d forgotten all about it. And knowing it wouldn’t sweeten Jane’s disposition to return empty handed, he headed back in the direction of Hatchard’s—only to find Sophie inside, perusing a selection of books set out on a small table. For a while, he just stood and watched her. She picked up a slim, leather-bound volume and opened it to the first page. While she read, her lips curved upwards, bringing into view the dimples he was suddenly finding so damned irresistible.
He took off his hat and approached, hoping the truce they had established last night might yet be in place. ‘Miss Vallois?’
When she looked up, he was pleased to see a warm glow of welcome in her eyes. ‘Mr Silverton.’
‘I hope I’m not disturbing you.’
‘Not at all.’
‘You seem to be enjoying the book.’
‘Not really.’ She closed the volume and set it down. ‘The subject matter was not to my taste.’
‘Yet you smiled.’
‘More for the unusual style of the author’s prose than for its brilliance.’
Robert stared down at the floor. Conversation had never been difficult for him, yet when it came to Sophie, he felt as awkward as a schoolboy. ‘You enjoy reading?’
‘Very much. I share my brother’s belief that it is the best way to expand one’s knowledge and understanding of others.’
He relaxed slightly. Good. Books. A common interest. ‘Have you a favourite author?’
‘I confess to enjoying Miss Austen’s works at present, though I probably have a better knowledge of the classics.’
‘You obviously share your brother’s partiality for them,’ Robert said drily.
He felt the curiosity of her gaze. ‘How did you know Antoine likes the classics?’
‘Jane mentioned it over breakfast this morning. I gather they were speaking of it last night.’ He stopped and cleared his throat. ‘Miss Vallois, you said in the carriage that you’d like to explore the ancient pyramids. Have you had a chance to visit the British Museum?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then perhaps it’s time you did. Though not as atmospheric as wandering through the desert, the Egyptian display is most impressive and I would be happy to show it to you.’
Her smile left him breathless. ‘Thank you, Mr Silverton, I’d like that very much. Probably better than getting all that sand in our shoes anyway.’
‘I dare say.’ Unbidden, his mind conjured up an image of Sophie walking barefoot across the sand towards him. Of her sitting on his lap, her arm around his neck as he gently brushed the grains from her feet. He could almost feel the heat of an ancient sun burning through his clothes—and the heat at the thought of holding her in his arms burning him everywhere else—
‘Fine.’ His voice roughened. ‘Shall we say, tomorrow after noon?’
‘Yes.’ Her smile was blinding. ‘Tomorrow would be perfect.’
They parted at the door and as Robert started for home, he felt a hundred times better than he had after his dismal confrontation with Oberon. But one thing had become painfully clear. He had to keep Sophie away from Oberon. The man didn’t want a wife. He wanted a beautiful china doll he could parade around town. One he could dress up and show off and keep under lock and key. He certainly didn’t want a woman with opinions or dreams of her own. He would scoff at her wanting to fly above London in a hot-air balloon. Laugh at her dreams of exploring the pyramids. God only knew what he would say about her wanting to float down the Amazon on a raft…
‘Boat,’ Robert murmured under his breath. No, Oberon was right about one thing. There could only be one winner in the battle for Sophie’s heart. And while circumstances might prevent it being him, Robert was damned if he’d ever let it be a self-centred snake like Montague Oberon!
Sophie was barely through the door when Banyon informed her that Mr Oberon was waiting to see her. ‘I’ve put him in the parlour, miss, to await your answer.’
‘Thank you, Banyon. Is Lady Longworth at home?’
‘She is not and I did inform Mr Oberon of that, but he asked if he might have a brief moment of your time. He said it was on a matter of some importance. Regarding…a mutual friend.’
It was clear from the butler’s expression that he was no fonder of passing along cryptic messages than Sophie was of receiving them, but, curious about Oberon’s reference to a mutual friend, she said, ‘Thank you, Banyon. I’ll see him in the drawing room.’
Once there, Sophie paused to take a few deep breaths. Moments later, Oberon arrived. ‘Miss Vallois. Thank you for agreeing to see me.’
‘Your message was intriguing to say the least. Will you sit down?’
‘Thank you, but I don’t intend to stay long. I am aware that Lady Longworth is from home, but I came here out of concern for you.’
Sophie arched an eyebrow. ‘Am I in some kind of danger?’
‘Not of a physical kind, but you could be when it comes to…matters of the heart.’
Tempted to inform him that matters of her heart were none of his business, Sophie said, ‘Banyon said you wished to speak to me about a mutual friend.’
‘Yes. Robert Silverton. A man for whom I know you hold a special affection.’
Aware of the need to tread carefully, Sophie said, ‘Mr Silverton is a friend, but nothing more. As you pointed out, there are issues that would always come between us.’
‘Nevertheless, given the way I saw the two of you talking at Sir David and Lady Hester’s last night, I thought you might have…resolved that issue.’
A warning bell rang. So, he had been spying on her. Watching her while she was talking to Robert. ‘What you saw,’ Sophie said slowly, ‘was Mr Silverton offering me an apology for what had passed between us with regard to his brother’s death. An apology I was happy to accept.’
‘Has he asked to see you again?’
The words came at her like the flick of a whip. ‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Mr Oberon.’
‘Ah, but it is, Miss Vallois. Because I came here today with a view to making you aware of two things. One of which you will find very distressing. About Mr Silverton.’
So, he had come to tell tales on his friend. ‘I cannot imagine what you could say about Mr Silverton that would make me think ill of him.’
‘Not even that his sudden interest in you may have more to do with his hopes of winning my stallion than with any genuine feelings of love or affection for you?’
The statement wa
s so bizarre that Sophie felt shock rather than outrage upon hearing it. ‘Kindly explain yourself, sir.’
‘Of course. I happen to know that Robert recently entered into a wager. One of his own devising, with the goal being to make the most beautiful woman in London his mistress. And given that he’s told me more than once that he has no intention of marrying, I can only wonder at the reasons behind his sudden interest in you.’
Sophie was glad she was standing by the window. It allowed her to pretend an interest in the goings-on of passers-by in the street below. So, he would have her believe that Robert’s interest in her was motivated by a desire to make her his mistress? Truly he did not know his friend well. ‘I couldn’t help but notice that you said Mr Silverton hoped to win your stallion. Does that mean you were also a party to this wager?’
‘I regret to say my name was taken down,’ he admitted, ‘but I can assure you it was not with my agreement and it certainly wasn’t over the acquisition of a mistress. I had already informed Silverton that it was my intention to seek a wife and settle down to married life. At least he had the decency to record my participation as such.’
‘So you’re telling me that Mr Silverton wagered his ability to find a mistress against yours to find a wife, with the prize being your stallion.’
‘I fear so,’ Oberon said. ‘He’s always coveted the beast. He once told me that if an opportunity ever presented itself whereby he might take Thunder from me, he would do so without hesitation. That, I believe, was his primary motivation in suggesting the wager. And to be fair, he did offer up a prize of his own. A rather pretty little ring, but one I know to be a cherished family heirloom.’
Sophie kept her gaze fixed on the view outside the window. ‘I am surprised he would risk such a valuable item.’
‘I did try to persuade him against it, but he said it meant nothing to him. You must understand, Miss Vallois, Robert is a long-standing knight of the elbow. His passion for gambling runs as hot as the blood in his veins. It became his solace when his world turned upside down, and though he hides his craving beneath a civilised veneer, it is there none the less.’
Sophie let the curtain fall back into place. So, now Oberon would have her believe that Robert was a heartless gambler to whom winning meant everything. A man whose interest in her was of the most scandalous kind. ‘What do you think Mr Silverton would say,’ she asked softly, ‘if I were to question him about what you’ve just told me?’
‘I suspect he would try to justify his conduct to you by whatever means he could. There would certainly be no point in his trying to deny the wager exists. You could verify what I’ve said easily enough. I simply wished you to hear the details of the thing from me so that if he told you differently, you would be in a better position to judge who was telling you the truth.’
‘And you would have me believe that you are the one doing that.’
Oberon smiled, managing to look both guilty and humble at the same time. ‘I may have been a trifle bold in my conduct towards you in the past, Miss Vallois, but I like to think I have always been honest. And I’m not saying Robert is a bad man for, indeed, he is not. But he has been through a great deal, and sometimes, when a man is pushed to the very limits of his endurance, the darker emotions rise up to consume him. I would not wish to see you become…an unwitting victim of that weakness.’
Sophie tapped her fingers on the sash. It was hard to believe they were talking abut the same man. Yes, Robert had been pushed to the limits, but it was impossible to reconcile the desperate, unfeeling gambler Oberon made him out to be with the caring, honourable gentleman she had come to know and admire. Her intuition told her she could not be that far wrong. Besides, experience had taught her it was never wise to judge a person’s conduct until one was in full possession of the facts. Oberon had told her his side of the story. She had yet to hear Robert’s.
‘You said there were two things you wished to see me about, Mr Oberon,’ Sophie said, meeting his gaze. ‘The possibility of my becoming Mr Silverton’s mistress would seem to be one. Dare I ask about the other?’
He smiled, though his expression reflected an element of chagrin. ‘I should have known you would not be so easily persuaded. Your loyalty does you credit, Miss Vallois, as does your willingness to believe the best of the people you care about. I hope I may be counted amongst those people, because my affection for you is the other matter I’ve come to see you about.’
Sophie caught her breath. Surely he was not about to declare himself. ‘Mr Oberon, I would rather not—’
‘Please hear me out. The only reason I’ve kept silent about my feelings was a result of being unsure of my place in yours. But now that I know Silverton has not stolen a march on me, the time has come to tell you that I care deeply for you, and that I have ever since we met. It would please me greatly if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife.’
No, no, no, this was not what she wanted to hear! ‘How can you ask me such a question after admitting you were also a party to this wager?’ Sophie said. ‘By knowing you are as anxious to hold on to your stallion as you say Mr Silverton is to win him, I can only question the motive behind your proposal.’
He affected a look of pain. ‘My dear Miss Vallois. Horses are nothing more than commodities to be bought and sold. You are one of a kind. And did I not tell you that I became a party to the wager entirely without my knowledge?’
‘Yes, but then everything you’ve told me today is unsubstantiated,’ Sophie said. ‘I have no proof that the claims you make against Mr Silverton are valid, or that your feelings for me are as honest as you would have me believe.’
‘Nevertheless, they are what they are, and only consider what you stand to gain by marrying me. Wealth, status, a title. Everything a woman could ask for.’
But not love, Sophie reflected. He said nothing about being in love with her—because he wasn’t. ‘Thank you, Mr Oberon. Though I am flattered by your offer, I cannot possibly accept. Apart from the fact I have no wish to marry, I do not love you. And I would never consider marrying without love. And now, I bid you good afternoon.’
He didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even look regretful. As he started towards the door, he actually began to smile. ‘I understand. But if you think about it a bit longer, you’ll come to realise that in this case, love is not the only consideration. You stand to gain a great deal by accepting my proposal, Miss Vallois, but you stand to lose even more by turning me down. You might like to think about that before giving me your answer. And I will call again,’ he said as he opened the door. ‘Of that you can be sure.’
Chapter Ten
The memory of Mr Oberon’s visit stayed with Sophie long after he’d left, as did his ominous parting words. She had no idea what he’d meant by saying she stood to lose much by turning him down, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was speaking in jest. What little she knew of Oberon convinced her he was a man used to getting his own way. As such, it was with a definite feeling of trepidation that she accompanied Nicholas and Lavinia to a soirée at the home of Lord and Lady Chiswick that same evening. She felt quite sure Mr Oberon would be there and that he would be watching her every move. As she settled into the carriage for the short ride to Park Lane, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something very bad was about to happen.
‘So, this is the young lady we’ve been hearing so much about,’ Lord Chiswick said upon being introduced to her. ‘I can see why.’ He was a large man, with a large nose, large hands and ears that stuck out from two tufts of unruly grey hair. ‘You are an uncommonly beautiful young woman. I’ll wager the young bucks are beating a path to your door.’ His bushy eyebrows twitched as his hand closed hot and heavy around hers. ‘I know I would, had you been part of my circle thirty years ago.’
‘Put the poor girl down, Wallace, you’ll give her nightmares,’ Lady Chiswick said with a long-suffering sigh. ‘You must forgive my husband, Miss Vallois. He is just returned from safari and killing wild animals
always tends to fire his imagination. So, are you and your brother enjoying your visit to London?’
‘Yes, very much,’ Sophie said, disengaging her hand as tactfully as possible. ‘There is so much to see and do.’
‘London is the finest city in the world,’ Lady Chiswick said proudly. ‘I wasn’t at all impressed with Paris when I went to visit my brother and sister-in-law there last year. The filth was appalling.’
‘When did you go?’ Lavinia asked.
‘December. Wretched time to travel, but my niece horrified everyone by falling in love with some well-to-do Frenchman and marrying him. Shocking mess. Constance insisted I be there to lend the family moral support.’
Sophie felt a chill run down her spine. Constance…and a December wedding. It had to be a coincidence…
‘Naturally, my brother wasn’t at all happy,’ Lady Chiswick was saying. ‘The moment Georgina left on her wedding trip, he sold the house, packed up all their belongings and brought the entire household back to En gland. I think he was afraid his son and youngest daughter might do something equally foolish. He vowed none of them would ever set foot on French soil again.’
Sophie closed her eyes. Constance Grant-Ogilvy had had three children: one son and two daughters. The wilful, eldest daughter had been called Georgina, and before Sophie had left their employ, Georgina had hinted that she was in love with a man of whom her parents would not approve.
It had to be the same family. And if they were related to Lady Chiswick, they might well be here tonight…
‘Sophie, are you feeling all right?’ Lavinia asked softly. ‘You’ve suddenly gone quite pale.’
‘Have I?’
‘Probably the heat,’ Lady Chiswick said. ‘It always affects the newcomers. Have you smelling salts with you, dear?’
‘No! That is, thank you, but…that won’t be necessary,’ Sophie said haltingly. ‘I just need some air.’
‘Why don’t you take a turn around the garden?’ Lavinia suggested. ‘The night air should put some colour back in your cheeks.’
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