Temptation Has Green Eyes

by Lynne Connolly

  Badly, that was how. Sophia was tempted, briefly, to tell Julius who had always treated her with respect and kindness. But Julius could be as formidable as Max. And it wasn’t right to tell Julius before she told Max, who had a right to know the origin of the prospective mother of his children.

  Although her father was dry-eyed and his demeanor steady, she could tell he was distressed by telling her this news. A haunted expression in his eyes, a jerky way of movement. Damn John! Without his intervention, she would never have known, might have lived her life in blissful ignorance of the fact that she wasn’t her father’s daughter. And yet she was.

  “You had the making of me, Papa. You taught me, and you reared me. This information does not make you any less of a father to me.”

  If Max demanded she cut off relations with her father, she would refuse. He had a right to do so, but such cruelty didn’t deserve reward. The trouble was, as matters lay between them, Max might jump on the excuse. He had distanced himself so effectively, it was like sharing a house with a stranger, and her bedroom was anathema to him. He hadn’t set foot on the Aubusson since that fateful night.

  Chapter 10

  “You are happy in your marriage, my son?”

  His mother would choose a ball to ask that, where he couldn’t get emotional even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. With the greatest in society capering on the dance floor and sauntering around the perimeter, she gave him little choice. Not that he ever discussed his personal feelings with her. She’d never encouraged it. Her question was more of a polite enquiry than a real search for the truth.

  “I am indeed,” he said. “Sophia suits me well.”

  Even if he hadn’t visited her bed since that disastrous wedding night. Giving Sophia a chance to recover had changed to giving her some privacy when she had her courses, and by that time they had a habit set up. At least, that was what he told himself. Until Julius had completed his research, Max was better staying away. This wife of his was too dangerous to his peace of mind.

  He glanced to the dance floor where Sophia was tripping a measure with Tony. She danced competently and appeared to advantage in her favorite blue. She must favor the shade, since she wore a deal of it. She’d never told him so. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.

  His marriage was everything he’d wanted from the union. Except now he had it, he found he wanted something else.

  “Besides, there is nothing we can do about it now.” She sniffed, lifting her chin in an arrogant gesture. “You’re married, and that’s all there is to it.”

  He shot his attention back to his mother. Did she think he would change? The marriage had brought him everything he wanted. Nearly everything. “Why would we want to change it?”

  Sophia was smiling at Tony. An urge seized Max to cross the room to her. Despite his determination to keep away, she still drew him. Her quiet beauty appealed to him at a visceral level, not a part of himself he was familiar with. He found it best to ignore those urges, at least for now. Before he married, he’d kept a convenient mistress or two to fulfil his carnal needs. He treated them like a business transaction, neat and clean. Done and gone. Now he had other factors to cope with. Emotions. He’d never been good with those.

  One thing at a time. He shouldn’t force his presence on his wife until she’d made a place for herself in society. At least she hadn’t quickened from their one time together. Then she’d have more to deal with. Better to stay away until she’d settled into her new life and he heard from Julius about the other matter.

  Not for anybody would he admit how much she drew his attention, his desire. He couldn’t give way to that.

  His mother placed her hand on his arm, and they took a gentle stroll, mainly so that nobody would interrupt them. She waved her fan, smiled at her acquaintances.

  “You should come home, Mother,” he said.

  “Ah, but if I do, I will force Helena to return to her mother’s ungentle embrace.” The dowager shrugged. “Why my brother chose to marry such a woman…but we’ll leave that discussion for another time.”

  She was getting remarkably indiscreet, which probably meant she had a feud currently waging with the dowager Duchess of Kirkburton. Nothing like the serious problems the family had always had with the Dankworths, but his family usually had one member at odds with another. They’d make it up. Was it this that prevented her from helping Sophia more?

  “Helena could stay with us,” Max offered.

  “It isn’t her home,” his mother said promptly. She always had an answer. “Julius is interviewing suitable women to be a companion to her and a governess for sweet little Caroline. He was considering asking someone from the family, although I think this time an employee would prove more reliable.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I can join you then.”

  “You’re probably right.” And then he’d get his mother back. A companion would be someone from a respectable family or from a minor branch of theirs who couldn’t afford to support herself. As well as an income and a roof over her head, she’d have the advantage of entering society. Maybe even finding a husband, although not at the highest level. As Max already knew, marriages at his level occurred more for alliances and advantage than for personal reasons.

  The dowager wafted her fan lazily, releasing an aroma of lavender. “I am doing my best to find Helena a husband. It’s time, and that would solve our problems. But she is being stubborn. Says she wants love.” She gave a “Tcha!” of derision. “She’ll find someone. I am determined on it.”

  Max nodded, although he privately considered that at least one of the family should find happiness in marriage. Apart from Alex, that was.

  On the other side of the dance floor, Tony bowed over Sophia’s hand and led her to a sofa, where several ladies already perched. They presented a charming picture in delicately colored silks and satins, chattering, their fans fluttering to emphasize a point or draw attention to an attractive feature.

  Before they reached the area, two of the ladies glanced up, and then at each other, and then left. Poppy and Helena, who were already there, did not.

  Vaguely disturbed by the scene, Max turned back to his mother. “Sophia could use some help.”

  The dowager turned her shoulder elegantly. “She’s coping well, from what I’ve been seeing. It’s true she seems to prefer her own company, but she will learn.”

  “She’s an only child.” That might be the reason she hadn’t received as many bride-visits as he’d expected. But she needed the support of his mother. “If you should like to take an airing on the park with her, I can put the carriage at your disposal.”

  “I have the landau,” she said.

  Max nearly snorted. Of course she did. Low-bodied, the thing went at a crawl. Not his kind of vehicle at all. He’d considered having the coat of arms on the door repainted to include the widow’s lozenge. Sophia hadn’t used it. She preferred to take a chair or go on foot, although he never allowed her out without at least one footman and her maid. Truthfully, he liked her independence of spirit, but he preferred to keep her safe. London was never safe, even for someone who knew it well.

  They headed toward Helena and Poppy. Max firmly steered his mother around the edge of the dance floor. A flurry, a light scattering of people, impeded their progress as dancers began to assemble for the next set. The quartet of musicians in the corner sorted their music, ready for the next tune. Insipid, most likely.

  “A word.”

  But for his society manners he’d have leaped three feet. “Dammit, Julius, you’re a silent as a cat when you want to be!”

  “I apologize.”

  Like hell he did. His cousin’s blue eyes glinted with something that looked like anger. Here? What had happened? Intrigued, Max raised a brow. “A problem?”

  “Not mine.”

  Oh, that was terse. Something had put him out. He turned to his mother. “May I escort you to Poppy?”

  The dowager glanced a
t the sofa where Helena was talking to Sophia. “It appears Poppy has decided to dance. I’ll pay a visit to the card room. It’s been an age since I had a good hand of piquet, and I saw Lady Cooper there earlier. I will see if she’s free.”

  “Just don’t let her rook you, Mama,” he said with a grin.

  She laughed in derision. “We’ve been playing together for many years, and on or off the gaming table I can beat her best.”

  Max followed Julius out of the room to a narrower passageway. It led to a set of stairs at the end that were not the main stairway. The treads were padded with drugget, and the walls sported improving pictures and lists of instructions that Max didn’t bother to peruse.

  “The servants’ way?”

  “More discreet.”

  “So what are we doing here?”

  “I don’t want to be disturbed,” Julius said sharply.

  Someone had really upset him. Had he discovered something about the Dankworths and Sophia?

  Once upstairs, Julius strolled along a wider hallway and then opened a door that led to a small, obviously unoccupied bedroom. Not a servants’ room, but the dressing table was clear of accoutrements and the open door to the powder room showed everything in neat order. A guest room.

  As soon as Max had closed the door, Julius whirled to face him. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Taken aback, Max blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” He considered putting a chair between them. He didn’t wish to get into a confrontation with his cousin here. Or anywhere else, come to that.

  “Your wife!” He spat the word.

  Bewildered, he faced his cousin, balancing on the balls of his feet, ready for anything. “What has she done?”

  “Nothing!” Julius’s eyes sparked fire. He shoved back his coat and put his hand on his hip, where he would normally wear his sword. This being a ball, he’d either left it at home or at the door. The perfect gentleman.

  Just as well, because Max might have died without knowing what had angered Julius. Or killed him, and that wasn’t something he wanted to do either.

  “That is part of the problem. Isn’t it?”

  Max frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

  Julius took a turn about the room, his shoes tapping on the parquet. “In the four weeks since your marriage, you haven’t made a push to support her at all. Haven’t demonstrated your loyalty.”

  Put like that, it sounded decidedly unpleasant. “You know why.”

  Julius shook his head. “Tell me.”

  “How can I support her when she might be a spy for the Dankworths?” he demanded. “How can I trust her?” How could he trust himself, when every time he saw her he wanted her more than ever?

  He’d seen the evidence, heard it too. She wasn’t to be trusted. Sophia hadn’t told him her erstwhile lover, the man Russell had caught her in flagrante delicto with, was in the pocket of the Dankworths. Enemies of the Emperors. Traitors to the country. He desperately needed to hear that she was innocent. Longed for it. But he had moved all the most sensitive documents out of the house and into his office as a precaution. He hated himself for it, but more than his fate was at risk here. He couldn’t place his investors in peril because of his own softer feelings.

  And yet every time he came near her, he wanted her. So he didn’t go near her. Waited for some evidence for or against.

  “Have you discovered something about Sophia and the Dankworths?” he asked eagerly.

  “No.” Julius shook his head. “No progress on that. Forget it. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” He brushed the matter aside as if it meant nothing. “That isn’t the point tonight. The point is your behavior with your wife.”

  Max had never seen Julius so angry. His eyes sparked pure blue fire, his posture, clenched fists at his sides, suggested he was holding himself back from committing an act of violence.

  If Julius was referring to Max and Sophia’s lack of progress in bed, Max would have to have a word with her. Because the only way he would know that was if she’d gone blabbing to him. He couldn’t imagine her doing that. The trouble was, what he saw in her didn’t tally with the reports he was hearing. “She’s a woman who is capable of asking for what she wants.”

  “Who is hardly ever seen with you in public.”

  “I accompany her to these affairs.” He waved a hand impatiently. “She is accepted.”

  “And you do not see?” Julius waved a hand, his sapphire ring glittering fit to rival his eyes. “You can’t tell that people move away from her when she approaches them? That they avoid talking to her?”

  A slow fire kindled in Max’s belly. “What are you talking about?” On the rare occasion that he accompanied her to balls, he danced once with her and excused himself to the card room or left her in the care of his mother or one of his aunts. She’d never complained. His behavior wasn’t unusual. Many husbands did the same.

  “Nobody is giving her the cut direct. While she has our family’s support, they wouldn’t dare. But they are shunning her. Avoiding her.” Julius’s mouth curled in a sneer. “It’s society’s way. The practice disgusts me.”

  “Isn’t this a kind of baptism of fire?” A ritual before society accepted her?

  “No it is not. The point is, why don’t you know?”

  Julius was right, damn him. Max whirled around, turning his back to his cousin, his heavy brocaded coat tangling around his thighs. “I’ve been very busy,” he said, but even to his own ears that sounded foolish. “She hasn’t complained.” Even worse. “I thought she was coping.” He did. “I thought it would pass in time. We only had to wait it out.”

  “She would not complain. Can it be that I know her better than you do?”

  Max hated Julius at his most sarcastic. But he was right, and that made matters worse. “Yes, you probably do.” He dropped his head. His epiphany rocked through him. Of course she wouldn’t complain. Sophia wasn’t the complaining type. She would never seek help.

  But now Julius had mentioned it, he began to add things up. She had few visitors, and when she went out, it was to visit her father or to accompany Poppy or Helena or another of his cousins. Nobody else. Hell, nobody else. Julius was right.

  He opened his arms, spread his hands. “I’m a man. What can I do? These women won’t let us dictate how they run their lives. You know that as well as I do.”

  “Dictate?” Julius gave a harsh laugh. “True enough. But it’s telling that you didn’t realize.”

  A barbed comment to which he wouldn’t respond with anger. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that? I’m in new country here. I’ve never been married before.”

  “I have.”

  Max turned around and faced his cousin at that quiet statement. Julius had never appeared so cold, so lacking in emotion, which meant he was still angry. “Are you telling me that Caro was shunned?”

  Julius cracked a grin, but it wasn’t an amused one. His eyes were steel-hard. “Caro was the daughter of one of the country’s wealthiest peers. She belonged right from childhood. One of us, one of them, part of the club. We married, madly in love, but I found her difficult. As time went by, we found our own paths. Instead of talking to her and showing her what she meant to me, I tried to control her. Caro wasn’t the type of woman who took kindly to control.” His face shuttered, and his eyes were pinpoints of intense blue. “As her behavior became wilder, people began to avoid her. Nothing definite, they’d just move away when she was near or not invite her to the smaller, more select functions.”

  “So you noticed when it happened to Sophia.”

  Julius inclined his head. “Indeed. And like you, I did nothing. I thought Caro would settle down in time, when our child was born perhaps. She did not. She found the birth a trial, and while she loved Caroline, the baby was in the nature of a toy, a doll she could play with and then abandon. That angered me, and I spoke to her, something that only forced us farther apart. My reprimands on
ly made Caro wilder. She undertook dares she should never have considered to spite me.”

  “Like the one that killed her.”

  Six years ago, Caro had died in what the charitable called a driving accident, although the best whip in the country couldn’t have controlled the four horses she’d set to her carriage. When Julius had discovered her escapade, he’d raced ventre á terre to the location, but he’d arrived too late.

  Although Sophia and Caro were very different women, they’d suffered the same ordeal in society. Sophia would never scandalize society. Couldn’t afford to. If she did, that would give the biddies reason to ostracize her for good.

  “Yes, like that.”

  The lack of emotion in Julius’s voice didn’t surprise Max. His cousin had never said a word, not even immediately after Caro’s death. He’d taken control of his emotions and his life. For his daughter’s sake, everyone thought.

  But Max knew better. Julius was adept at hiding his emotions, at pushing them beneath the surface. Max had seen his cousin’s despair before he’d locked it away.

  Now Julius was trying to stop Max doing the same thing, and he should be grateful. Not now, when excoriating shame scraped his insides dry, but perhaps later.

  “Your wife is cut from a different cloth. But Max, you’re not supporting her. If you did, she would find this less difficult. I know your loyalty is strained, but you can’t let her carry on this way. I made a mistake. I don’t want you to do the same thing. You’ll regret not standing by her side. Believe in yourself, Max, as I did not. Believe in your own judgment. What’s in your heart. Trust her. Trust your feelings for her.” Julius took a deep breath. “Sophia needs to know the world isn’t against her. Trust your feelings, Max.”

  That advice went straight to his heart. Yes, that was what he should do. Though he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t see that for himself.

  Without another word, shame scraping his insides raw, he left the room and went to find his wife.

  * * * *

  Sophia was becoming more aware that people, while not cutting her, were not seeking her presence. It had happened solidly for the last month and wasn’t getting any better. Max needed their approval to pursue his many interests, and she was letting him down, but she couldn’t break through. If she spoke to someone, the person would answer her politely but distantly and move away as soon as he or she could. How did she fight that? They’d judged her before they even knew her and found her wanting. Not everyone, of course. But even her husband—