‘You did admirably, my boy,’ his father said. ‘I can see why you decided to remain in the north, and why you married Sophie so quickly. You were always headstrong, but a good woman is hard to find.’
‘You approve?’
‘Yes, I approve!’ His father clapped his hands together. ‘I’m utterly impressed and astonished. Despite the unorthodox meeting and courtship, you managed to find the sort of woman I have always wanted for you. Your aunt as usual wrote a load of blathering nonsense. I should have guessed. No sense about pigs, none whatsoever about people!’
‘Then you won’t mind if I take my bride away now?’ Richard put a hand on Sophie’s shoulder and felt her flesh quiver under his fingers. Today could be redeemed. ‘We did only marry yesterday.’
‘We entirely understand,’ Mrs Ravel said with a beatific smile. ‘I was surprised to see Sophie here. I would have thought you’d depart on your wedding trip today. Sophie’s father took me to Paris and then to Venice.’
‘When do you leave for your wedding trip, Richard?’ his father asked.
Richard froze. This was his chance to get his father to leave without causing a scene or alarming Sophie.
‘Richard and I have decided to postpone the wedding trip so that you will have time to get to know me,’ Sophie said before he had uttered a word.
His father’s eyes widened. ‘I had no wish …’
‘But we do.’ Sophie darted forwards and gave his father a kiss on the cheek. ‘It will mean so much to both Richard and me. You are part of my family now. And you travelled on a train for the first time. Trains can be rather overwhelming. The noise, the dirt and the steam.’
Tears came into his father’s eyes. ‘Bless you, child. I will look into taking rooms. There is much to admire about this city. I haven’t been here since I was a young man. The pigs will have to do without me for a while. My new daughter requires me.’
Richard forced his jaw to relax. His father had never done that for him—put him ahead of the pigs. Sophie with her impulsive invitation had just closed the one bright hope in his life—that his father would leave Newcastle quickly. His father would now stay and his own problems had grown. Somehow he had to figure out how he was going to protect Sophie and keep her from being used as a pawn.
‘What do you think you were playing at, Sophie?’ Richard exploded the instant he shut their bedroom door. ‘Leaving like that! No note. Nothing.’
Sophie dropped her reticule on the ground. She had known something was wrong by his silence on the journey back and the way he’d marched into their bedroom. True, he’d been charming at her stepmother’s, but he had insisted they leave immediately after he’d finished his cup of tea, not even waiting for Jane and her dresses.
‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’ Sophie crossed her arms and readied for war. He’d been the one to be out when she awoke.
‘You failed to leave a note.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I had no idea where you were when I returned.’
Sophie tapped her foot on the ground. All the hurt and anger from earlier rose within her. He dared to complain about her absence when he couldn’t be bothered to be there when she woke! She was the one who should be angry, not he. He should be on his knees in abject apology, rather than demanding explanations. ‘You also failed to leave a note. I had no idea where you were. I refuse to wait around in rented rooms, hoping you might put in an appearance before nightfall.’
His mouth twisted. ‘You decided to serve me back?’
‘No, I let Myers know where I was and when I expected to return.’ Sophie stuck her chin in the air. ‘I needed my dresses which button down the front. I refuse to be stuck somewhere naked simply because all my clothing requires the assistance of a lady’s maid.’
She waited for him to accept the truth.
He glared at her. ‘Did you have to tell my father about how we met?’
‘I had little choice.’ Sophie met his gaze with a furious one of her own. ‘I could hardly lie to him. You saw how it was. Undone by a date. It had to come out sooner or later. The truth always does. My stepmother took it very well and your father as well.’
‘Who else will learn of the truth?’
Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘I suspect I shall have to tell Robert and Henri. My stepmother is sure to tell them in any case. They and their children are like family.’
‘Shall I take a notice out in The Times?’ he enquired in a cutting voice. ‘It will save time.’
‘Once you meet Robert and Henri, you will love them.’
‘I prefer to make my own judgement about people. You swore only a few days ago that this Robert of yours would find fault with me and my suit.’
‘Yes, but we are married now.’ Sophie pressed her hands against her temples. She had only said that when she had been certain he had no desire to marry her. Everything had changed. ‘It no longer signifies. They know what society demands when people are compromised. Ultimately, all they want is to see me happy. They will be delighted that you did the right thing.’
He reached out to her, but she ignored it and stood there with crossed arms. She refused to ask him where he’d been. He should tell her and explain why he had left her for so long this morning.
‘This is all wrong.’ He reached out again and pulled her into his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘That’s better. You were too far away. Can we start today over, please? I missed you more than I thought I would.’
‘I would like that,’ she said. Being in his arms made everything better. He’d missed her or perhaps just her body. It had to be enough. She would make him proud of her accomplishments. She’d show him how truly worthy she was and he’d start to truly care for her. He might not love her now, but she could make love grow … if she had enough time.
‘I didn’t expect to see your father,’ she said, concentrating on his waistcoat rather than looking him in the face. ‘My dark-rose gown has easier buttons and requires no crinoline. Jane wants my wardrobe to be fit for a peeress, but I’d rather be able to dress myself. Surely both can be managed?’
‘I like your way of thinking, Lady Bingfield.’ Richard’s eyes glowed with appreciation as he ran his hands down her back.
They had that, Sophie realised. They desired each other. It would have to be enough to build her marriage on. She couldn’t suddenly wish for undying love when he had never pretended more than desire. She had to hope his feelings for her would grow. Right now, his touch was wakening the ache in her middle.
She gave her mouth up to his mind-numbing kiss. When he kissed her, she knew everything would be right with the world.
Much later when they lay in bed together, Sophie’s head against Richard’s chest and her body faintly throbbing, she glanced up at his face and he seemed to be far away, concentrating on the bedpost rather than on her face.
‘You haven’t heard a word I said.’
He placed an absentminded kiss on her hair. ‘Was it important?’
She shook her head. Her question about his childhood could wait. ‘What were you thinking about?’
He put his hands behind his head. ‘My father took the truth about our meeting well though. Better than I had hoped. It was a simplistic, but fatal error. I never thought about his birthday.’
She ran her hand down his chest. ‘We had different expectations when we decided the story.’
‘I could tell he likes you.’ His hand stroked her hair. ‘He does have excellent taste if you can get him to talk about something more than pigs.’
‘You did want him to stay. He seemed sad earlier. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.’ Sophie shook her head. Now was not the time to bring up the intelligence about his mother. Not after their quarrel had just mended. She had hated how her insides felt during their last one.
‘You were completely right. I was being selfish. I wanted to start our wedding trip as soon as possible and didn’t think my father would want to stay as he normally hates being away
from his beloved pigs.’
‘He puts his son above his pigs.’
‘I live in hope, rather than expectation.’ He gave a pained smile. ‘Thank you for putting duty before pleasure. We will go once my father decides to depart, but it won’t be long before the pigs need his attention. I want a proper wedding trip with you this summer. I positively insist on it.’
‘We are still together and we will get to the Alps this summer.’ She placed a kiss on his chin. ‘I’m looking forward to painting you properly. A sunlit Alpine meadow will be the perfect backdrop.’
‘Shall I be naked?’
‘Richard!’
His eyes danced and he ran a hand down her flank. ‘I keep forgetting how truly innocent you are, Sophie. Only if you desire it. Otherwise, I shall sit very still, dressed in my best hat, coat and trousers while you paint. The very proper husband for my Lady Bingfield to paint.’
Truly innocent. Sophie’s heart gave a little pang. She should never forget how experienced he was. He was used to women who knew how to do all sorts of things. The cruel words Sebastian had shouted through the keyhole circled around her brain—Men tire of innocence very quickly. How could she ever hope to hold Richard, if she remained innocent? How could she hope to keep him from being bored? She wanted to use the desire to bring finer feelings to the marriage. She had to show him that she was worthy of taking her place beside him, so that he wouldn’t regret his impulsive act of honour.
‘Sophie? You appear awfully serious? Is something wrong? You have forgiven me, haven’t you? I won’t allow you to wake up without me again. I promise. I had no idea that it would upset you so.’
She pushed her doubts away. In Richard’s arms, everything was perfect. ‘Nothing is wrong. How could it be with you here?’
Chapter Thirteen
The sooner they left Newcastle, the better, Richard decided three days later. The last thing he wanted was for Sophie to encounter his mother. Rather than getting better and reconciled to the marriage and asking to meet Sophie, his mother had written to his aunt, requesting the report on Sophie.
Richard had considered something was truly wrong with her when she sent a cryptic note and so he had hurried over there this morning, only to be greeted with a litany of Sophie’s imagined faults.
With Sophie attempting to create a wardrobe fit for a viscountess before they left for the wedding trip and generally showing nervousness, the last thing she needed was his mother picking petty fault. He wanted to throttle his aunt, but knew he ultimately was to blame for goading her that day.
He refused to allow anyone to hurt Sophie or twist her into something she wasn’t. He wanted the passionate woman, not the mask she’d shown to the world when they’d first met. But there was no point in explaining this to his mother. Instead he had made his excuses and left.
Richard marched into his rooms with his aunt’s poison burning a hole in his pocket. He would write his aunt an uncompromising and long-overdue missive about her behaviour and afterwards he’d consign the so-called verdict to the fire. Sophie need not worry what his family thought of her.
He stopped, confronted with the delectable sight of Sophie in her robe.
‘What are you doing back here, Sophie?’ Richard tilted his head, searching for signs of distress. ‘I thought you had fittings for your new wardrobe all morning and were then going to have lunch with your stepmother.’
‘I came back earlier from my stepmother’s.’ Sophie waved an airy hand. ‘There was little point in me staying. My stepmother agreed with me. A woman’s place is with her husband when they are first married, rather than gossiping.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that so? Did you happen to see my father? Has he decided when he is leaving?’
‘Next week. The tickets are all booked.’ Sophie gave a little twirl, allowing her robe to slip a little. She had to hope her scheme was working and that Richard did have a little regard for her beyond desiring her in bed. But everywhere she turned these days, it seemed people conspired to make her feel awkward and as if she was a disappointment. She wanted to be the perfect bride. She wanted to show Richard that his trust in her was not misplaced. ‘I have given the servants the afternoon off.’
His glance became appreciative rather than the glower he’d worn when he first came in. ‘Is there any reason why?’
‘I thought I could paint you. Get started on the portrait. It might not be an Alpine meadow, but I thought the bed would do.’
Dark passion flared in his eyes. ‘You want to paint my portrait now? What has brought this on?’
‘Now!’ Sophie put her hands on her hips. If he went, she’d never regain the courage. She had everything planned in her mind. She’d seduce him and then she’d explain about the dinner party she’d planned. She knew having a dinner party before they had done the rounds of the At Homes wasn’t strictly speaking the done thing, but she wanted to show Richard and his father that she was a capable hostess. ‘Myers said that there wasn’t anything you had to be doing. I laid careful plans, Richard.’
He pressed his lips together and then his face cleared. A wicked glint came into his eyes, warming her. And she breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to be easier than she’d feared. ‘Never let it be said that I don’t do what my lady requests, particularly when it is prettily put. Do you want me in my coat and hat for this portrait of yours?’
‘I would like you to sit over there on the bed.’ Sophie’s limbs trembled. He was doing as she asked. She walked over to the easel and picked up a brush.
‘You want me seated, not reclining.’
‘Whichever way is more comfortable. But you need to keep still. Don’t move a muscle. I want to capture you. When it is finished, I want to hang it over our drawing-room mantelpiece. Today I want to do a preliminary study and see if you can withstand the rigours of sitting.’
The dimple flashed in the corner of his mouth. ‘I assume you will insist on entertaining the worthy.’
‘Precisely. I’ve no wish to shock.’
Sophie drew a rough charcoal sketch of Richard’s head and shoulders. She did intend to paint his portrait eventually. It would give her a chance to get to know him better, but this afternoon was about more than simply painting. It was about showing Richard that she could be inventive in their love-making.
‘And you intend to paint all afternoon?’ he asked after a few moments’ silence in which she sketched the outline and gave a rough indication of how his hands ought to go.
‘Is there some problem with this?’
‘My nose is starting to itch. How am I supposed to scratch if you don’t want me to move?’
Sophie smiled and reached for her brush. The request she had been waiting for. She walked over to where he sat. ‘I believe I have a solution.’
She leant forwards and stroked his nose with the brush. ‘All better?’
He gave a slight nod rather than reacting as she expected. ‘Trying not to move as my wife ordered.’
She pursed her lips. This might take longer than she thought unless … She allowed her robe to slip as she started to turn away. His hand caught her sleeve.
‘Where are you going? Other parts of me itch.’
‘Do they?’
He nodded. ‘All over. It is deuced uncomfortable being a model. You should have told me when I volunteered.’
‘Then I shall have to see to them.’
‘With your brush?’ His voice held a husky note.
‘I use it when I am painting and don’t want to get paint on my nose.’ Sophie used the brush to caress his cheeks and forehead. ‘You see. Nice and soft.’
His eyes closed. ‘More, please. Remember you told me not to move. I’ve no intention of spoiling your … portrait.’
Her hands worked at his neckcloth and discarded it. She gently stroked down the strong column of his throat, before working on his collar and the collar studs.
His coat proved a bit more problematic to remove. And he kept true to his word and
didn’t move a muscle, allowing her to undo the buttons and pull off the sleeves.
With a sinking heart, she saw his shirt sleeves were fastened with intricate cufflinks. Richard’s clothing was every bit as fiddly as her own.
‘Next time I paint you, I think I shall have to take your advice and have you in fewer clothes. I can always paint the clothes in later.’
‘I am taking your instructions to heart, but I do have the most terrible itch.’ A faint smile touched his lips. ‘You are not drawing now.’
Sophie drew her brush along his collar bone. ‘You know how this game is played.’
‘I’m a good guesser.’ He pulled her against his chest. ‘Is it all right for me to move now? Truly?’
She gave a nod. ‘It is safe. I reached a stopping point on the portrait.’
‘I promise to be the most obliging of models, but it is best to do a little at a time. It saves on the itching …’ He took off his shirt and vest, leaving his skin gleaming golden. She put out a hand and touched the warm muscle.
He fell back on the bed so that she straddled him. His hands reached up and cupped her breasts. His thumb slowly rubbed her nipple, making it become a hardened point. Sophie gasped. He bucked upwards and his arousal teased her.
‘What are you wearing under this robe?’
‘Nothing,’ Sophie admitted. ‘I wanted to see how it would be for painting.’
‘A novel approach—having the artist undressed and the model clothed.’
‘I can be unconventional as well as conventional.’ She brushed her lips against his mouth.
‘Have I ever complained, Sophie?’ He caught her face between his hands.
Sophie bit her lip. He had not complained, but she felt him slipping away from her.
Rather than answering him, she concentrated on the next stage. Her hands went to his trousers and undid them, allowing his erection to spring free. Without waiting, Sophie opened her legs wider and positioned herself. She moved her hips back and forth, feeling the engorged tip of him rub her as the ache grew within her and then, very slowly, she lowered herself down on him, calling the rhythm for once.
An Ideal Husband? Page 20