Desired.
* * *
Harry attempted to control the jealousy rising in his stomach, making his vision a hazy curtain of red. The Mayfield bastard kept pulling Sophie closer as though he had some right to touch her. As though he might, if given the chance, do far more.
Harry knew the man was capable of nearly anything. In their younger days they’d all attended Oxford together and rumors had swirled about Angus Mayfield, none of them good.
The only way that man would lay a finger on Sophie was if Harry were a rotting corpse in the ground. Angus Mayfield wasn’t man enough to put him there.
“Well,” a voice purred behind him. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see you again.”
He took a quick glance back. Damn it all to hell. Alice Cummings, formerly Alice Mayfield, sneaked behind him, her hand sliding onto his waist. A bitter taste filled his mouth. He supposed he should be grateful. Alice had driven him into the army all those years ago. Still, he never wanted to see her again. “How is your husband?”
“Sick in bed with some spring malady.” She stepped closer, her small bosom brushing his back. “Such a pity I’ve been left all alone.”
“Absence will surely make your heart grow fonder.” He motioned to step away, but she slid her hand down onto his hip, giving his injury a squeeze. His jaw ticked as pain radiated down his side. Not that it debilitated him, it was more annoying than anything. He’d have to continue his swims. He’d been tired afterward, but the doctor had been correct. He’d worked his hip without pain for the first time since the injury.
Currently, they were hidden from the crowd behind the large skirts of Lady Haymaker. If he moved, he’d risk exposing Alice’s indecent touch. If he didn’t, he allowed this ridiculous charade to continue.
“That is most certainly true where certain parts of your anatomy are concerned,” she said in a whisper, dropping her voice as the strains of music began to taper off, her breath blowing across his ear. “I remember them well.”
He resisted the urge to smack her hand away. They’d been interrupted before the act had actually occurred, a fact he came to appreciate a great deal as the years had passed. “Mrs. Cummings,” his voice was a low growl of clipped irritation. “You should likely check on your husband.”
“You’re no fun at all.” She pushed against his back as her fingers moved from his hip to the fall of his trousers. If Lady Haymaker moved, the entire crowd would see her with her hand inching toward his cock.
He grabbed her hand just before it reached the intended destination. “That’s enough.” He turned his head so that he was very close to hers. He neither wanted to be overheard or misunderstood. “To be clear. I am not that man anymore. I regret I ever was.” He had a clear memory of the way she’d pushed him as he attempted to climb out of her second-story window. He’d landed in a bush and nearly broken his back. It had taken a few minutes to recover, just long enough for him to hear her begin having sex with her husband like she hadn’t just had another potential lover in that same bed.
Alice had tried to contact him several times after that evening, but he’d never returned any of her correspondence.
She grasped some loose fabric at the front of his trousers. “I don’t want to change. I like being bad and I want you to be bad with me. I’ve been dreaming about what that cock would feel like for years and I’m tired of waiting.”
He drew in a rumbling breath as his jaw clenched. Confound this woman, he was about to get rude.
“What is the meaning of this?” A man hissed from just in front of him. Turning forward, he saw first that Lady Haymaker had in fact started for the dance floor. In her place, Angus Mayfield stared at him with an accusing glare. But far worse, Sophie stood next to him. Her eyes were large in her pale face and he could have sworn that tears glistened in the corners.
Chapter Thirteen
She would not cry. Tears stung the back of her lids, but she blinked them back, drawing in a deep breath. When she exhaled, she willed her weakness away. She was here to find a husband. Harry was her guardian and free to pursue whatever woman he wanted. He owed her nothing.
And yet, she had never allowed a man the liberties she’d given him and seeing him so engaged with another woman made her ache. Which made her a silly fool. She touched the base of her neck as she struggled for composure.
“I should challenge you to duel for taking such liberties with my sister.” Angus barked next to her.
Her heart hammered in her chest. Fear replacing any hurt she’d been feeling.
Harry quirked a brow, looking wholly unconcerned. “Do or don’t, but don’t waste my time with maybes.”
Sophie stifled a gasp. This was not the time to be cavalier. “Harry,” she cried, taking a half step forward.
Angus’s hand shot out to her arm, pulling her back, and almost at once, Harry was just in front of her, his hand over Angus’s so the three of them were locked together. “You will remove your hand from my charge.”
“I should have known you had your eye on someone else.” The woman who’d had her hand on Harry pouted from behind him. “She isn’t that pretty.”
Sophie’s shoulders hunched as she cringed. Growing up with Dani, she’d never been the beautiful one. She was often lost in her cousin’s shadow. She’d mostly grown accustomed to being invisible. But the fact this one thought she wasn’t pretty enough for Harry touched a nerve and she tucked her chin into her chest. She tried to speak but words failed her.
It was Harry who answered. “There’s no accounting for some people’s taste.” Then he slipped his arm through hers. “Let’s get some air.”
She wanted to protest, she didn’t want to go anywhere with him. In fact, Sophie never wanted to see him again. But she’d wait to tell him that when they no longer had an audience. At least he had decisively untangled them from a rather awkward situation.
Harry weaved through the crowd, neither looking at her nor speaking until they’d made their way outside. He didn’t stop, but kept going down a dark path and into a secluded bunch of bushes that opened in the middle.
“It’s like a secret room. How did you know where to find this?” And then it occurred to her. He’d been here before. She remembered Drew goading him about his favorite Mayfield sister.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said turning toward her and reaching for her waist.
She stepped away. There would be no touching. “It does to me. Tell me…was she your favorite Mayfield? Was that what Drew was eluding to?”
He stopped. “Yes.”
That took her rather by surprise and her arms dropped to her side. She was being a fool and exposing her true feelings of jealousy. “I’m sorry. I’ve no right to ask. You’re free to pursue whoever you choose, just as I am, and—”
She didn’t finish because in a second she was against him, his arms circling her waist. His mouth found hers and he kissed her over and over. Her treacherous lips responded as the hands she’d put to his chest to stop him now slid about his neck. He tasted so good and felt even better.
This was wrong, part of her cried out. He’d told her he was leaving, allowed another woman to touch him. She ripped her mouth away. “Stop.” She placed her hands back on his chest. “This can’t continue.”
* * *
A protest rose to his lips. Not only did he want to keep going, he wanted to kiss her all night. Keep her from any other man at that party. He hated the sight of Mayfield holding her, touching her. “Why not?”
She huffed a breath. “Why not?” Then pushing out of his arms, she started ticking off a list on her fingers. “You’re my guardian, you’re leaving, you’ve no interest in marrying me, another woman just had her hand on your…” Her words tapered off as her hands dropped again.
He lifted his fingers to make his own list. “First, Alice Cummings is one of my biggest regrets in life and one of the reasons I left to find a new path. I would never be with that siren again. Second, if any woman were going to tou
ch my…” He skipped over the word. “It would be you. In fact, I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. Third, I’ve been contemplating a path for both of us. I haven’t mentioned my idea because I’ve not worked out the details but—”
He didn’t have a chance to keep counting because Sophie erased the distance between them once more, her fresh scent filling his nostrils even as her breasts brushed his fingers. Who cared about reasons anyhow?
“Us? You’ve thought of a solution for us?” He could hear the change in her voice as it vibrated through his body. Softer and breathy, her tone begged for him to draw her near. Which he did. He fit his hands around her tiny waist and as her hips came into contact with his, he swelled.
Reason rapidly left his mind. He dipped down to taste her again. Her lips were so supple against his when she sighed into his mouth that any thoughts of stopping disappeared. Slanting her mouth open he slid his tongue against hers, wanting to taste all of her, every bit.
“I thought I might find you here.” Alice Cummings’s voice cut through him like a knife. “And look what you’re doing with your charge. I knew you were still a naughty boy.”
He lifted his head even as Sophie froze in his arms. He didn’t let her go, rather he held her fast against him. “What’s happening here is none of your concern.”
“None?” a male voice called from the dark, but Harry knew that is was Angus Mayfield. “On the contrary, this is our home and a lady of good standing is being compromised. I just warned her about how men tried to take advantage of women in her position.”
Harry flexed his hands against her waist as she gasped against him. He knew who was trying to take advantage. Angus was a first-class deviant and he wouldn’t get away with whatever trick he was trying to pull.
“What an excellent point,” Alice said, her voice holding that same simper she’d used earlier. How had he not seen how contrived the sound was when he’d first met her? “We must protect her, it’s our duty.” Alice stepped closer, her lip pulled into a sneer.
Harry’s gut clenched. Alice was jealous, of that he was certain. The woman didn’t have a kind bone in her body.
“Harry?” Sophie’s voice shook. “I’ll be all right. At least I can keep my home and—”
“Shhhh,” he replied, looking down into her eyes. So warm and tender even with the tight lines of her face and the downturn of her mouth. “I told you I’d protect you. I meant it.”
“How sweet,” Alice’s voice dropped low. “But not even you can protect her from the scorn that is about to be rained down on—”
“Of course I can.” This time he let Sophie’s waist go and gently maneuvered her so that she was behind his back and he stood between the Mayfields and her. He drew in a deep breath, widening his stance. “Miss Chesterfield and I are getting married.”
Chapter Fourteen
Harry’s words sucked all the air around them so that sound ceased. Even the creatures of the night quieted at his announcement or perhaps it was just that her ears stopped working.
She gripped his shirt, as she sucked in a breath. “Married?” On the one hand it was gallant. He literally stood between her and the Mayfields. And she did want him, desperately so. But on the other, he was far more man than she’d anticipated marrying. Even the breadth of his shoulders spoke of his power and strength.
Alice’s gasp drowned out her question. “She is the one that you’re going to marry? That simpering, sweet, frightened, little virgin is what you want?”
Sophie’s fingers held tighter, anger replacing her fear as she tried to stand on tiptoe and see over Harry’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come back here and I’ll show you who’s sweet.”
She felt Harry laugh, vibrating through her hands and up his arms even though he didn’t make a sound. “Yes, Alice. Sophie is who I want.”
“Oh.” Sophie went back down off her toes, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had surged. His words echoing about her head as she pressed her forehead to his back. Alice’s annoying hiss cut the air, also interrupting her, but this time, Sophie didn’t care. Harry’s words were all that mattered.
“Well, Angus. It looks as though we must both go searching elsewhere. There’s no fun to be had here of any kind.”
Sophie heard the crunch of their feet as they retreated the way they had come. Suddenly, she and Harry were alone again but everything was different.
Neither of them moved. Tension thickened the air around them. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, loosening the hold on his shirt until her hands dropped to her sides. What should she do now? She chewed her bottom lip, concern squeezing her chest.
“Filthy vultures,” Harry muttered.
“Harry,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek against his jacket. “I think we need to talk about what just happened.”
“We do, very much so. But I think we should first return to our families. They’ll be worried and we’ll want to share the news.” He didn’t turn around, his voice flat.
She nodded against his back, but doubt niggled inside. He was acting strangely. And she wasn’t certain she even wanted to marry for the wrong reasons. Technically, she had yet to say yes. When she thought about it, he hadn’t actually asked either, just made a declaration. Disappointment made her pull back. She thought he knew her better than that. “Let’s wait until after we’ve discussed things.”
“Fair enough,” he answered, stepping away from her. She straightened as she let go of his coat. Then he offered his elbow. “Let’s leave this party. Once everyone is in bed, you and I can talk.”
“All right,” she said, placing her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow.
Their family was exactly where they had left them and though no one asked, Harry was her guardian after all, their silence told Sophie they had questions.
In the carriage, Emily finally broke the silence. “So, what did you think of Mr. Mayfield?”
Harry snorted. “Were you to blame for that? Angus Mayfield is a degenerate.”
“Harry,” Sophie retorted, her voice sharp. “Emily was trying to help.”
Harry gave her a long look. His pinched face told her how he felt about Emily’s help. Was he angry that they now had to marry? She winced inwardly. He had plans to return to the military and she was ruining them. She inwardly cringed. Of course he was upset.
Sophie stared out the window into the darkness. On the one hand, they could marry. He was strong, but he didn’t seem threatened by her robust personality. But she would give up at least some control and he should be willing to consider giving up his military career. She nibbled on her lip as her hands cupped her cheeks. She hated the idea of preventing him from returning to the front. After all, he wanted to avenge her brother’s death and yet…wouldn’t marriage and becoming a family be a better way to honor her brother?
If, however, she let him go, said no to the proposal that he hadn’t actually asked, she’d be ruined. She’d have to live the life of a spinster without a family of her own. She looked over at Harry, his face pinched into deep lines. She hated the idea of having no children of her own, of giving up that life, but at least she wouldn’t be saddled with a man who resented her for ruining his.
She closed her eyes, feeling the carriage’s gentle sway. She’d been ruined, which made her options terribly limited. She either married Harry or lived as a spinster. She wanted him, that was the difficult part. And she’d had a dream of a family. Which should have made her choice easy. Her fingers pressed to her temples.
But it wasn’t easy. She understood how much he would resent her for stealing his chosen future. Harry was like her in that regard. He valued his independence. And she was strong enough to face a future alone.
That would be hard to let go of, but she already knew what her decision was. She wouldn’t tie him down if he didn’t want to be. Her spine straightened. She wanted a family, but she wouldn’t sacrifice another person’s future for her own desires. Of course, not marrying meant she’d never experience p
assion either. Then another thought made her gasp. If she were already ruined, why not actually be ruined?
She could at least experience passion before her condemnation.
* * *
Sophie sat across from him in the carriage, and though she made not a sound, he could practically hear the wheels in her head turning. She kept glancing at him, shifting her weight, for one. Then there was the way her hands kept twisting, the delightful little way she kept nibbling her lip.
His manhood stiffened in response. He wanted to nibble her lip.
He should sock himself right in the nose. He’d ruined her tonight like a selfish cad. He closed his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. Being home caused him to revert back to his rakish self and Sophie would pay the price.
She knew it and she would grow to hate him for it. He twisted his neck, sending a loud cracking noise reverberating through the carriage. Why wouldn’t she? He’d taken her choices away from her. A woman who prided herself on independence.
He clenched his fists against his thighs. He needed to return to the army and his life of order and discipline to gain control of himself again and avenge Alfred. At least he could return to the army after they’d conceived and she could have some part of the life she’d wished for.
The carriage rumbled up the drive of Sophie’s house. He exited and then turned back to hand her out of the vehicle. As she slipped her hand into his, all his worries evaporated, though they’d haunt him later he was sure. But for now, as long as he touched her and remained close to her, she would be his.
Bar and Emily went ahead of them and as they fell in step behind, he leaned down to whisper, “Meet me in the library in half an hour.”
She gave a tiny nod, barely moving her chin and as they made their way through the front door, she kept going up the stairs, giving everyone a wave goodnight. He watched her until she disappeared down the hall.
“Good night, brother.” Drew slapped him on the shoulder. “Sleep well.” Then his cad brother winked, and taking the stairs two at a time, also disappeared.
Taming an Unrepentant Earl (Taming the Duke's Heart Book 10) Page 7