Miss Sophia's Spirited Spinster's Society

by Charlotte Stone

"Love is an abominable emotion," Morris said aloud, his anger at the lack of Sophia's presence coming out. He could remember what it was like not to care about what anyone thought of him, a time when he did as he pleased and said what he wished. Now, his gut turned at the thought of offending her or upsetting her. A year ago, he'd have laughed at a man like himself, thought him weak, and it was mildly true. He was weak for her.

  The others immediately agreed with him.

  Calvin turned to Hugh. "You were married once and you were happy."

  "And now she's dead." Hugh's wife had not died under normal circumstances. "Love is abominable and with the way things are going with the women that you all seem to fall for, it's only a matter of time before something truly terrible happens to them."

  Morris' heart raced at the thought of Sophia coming to danger.

  "Don't you dare wish that upon the women." All the light-hearted humor fled Calvin. "You mind your words."

  "They're reckless," Hugh said.

  That could not be denied. The Spinsters seemed to always be in trouble, which was why even though Calvin didn't enjoy hunting, he'd learned to handle a gun well.

  The sound of twigs breaking made everyone look up. Morris straightened as Sophia came out of the trees. Everyone stared at her and color creeped into her skin. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I'm simply here for my shooting lesson."

  "You're not interrupting us at all." Morris picked up his rifle and walked over to her. He had to keep himself back from kissing her. She'd come. He was surely the happiest man alive.

  "Worse than the Black Plague," William grumbled again.

  Morris didn't care. If he had caught love's ailment, he knew that Sophia could cure it. She was the balm for his aches. At that very moment, he ached for her. "Let's go farther into the woods."

  Sophia said her goodbyes to the others and walked alongside him. "What were you all discussing? It seemed to be quite the heated conversation."

  "Nothing."

  She stepped in front of him, blocking his way. Her expression was quizzical. "Are you not telling me because I'm a writer?"

  "No, I'm not telling you because you're not one of the Men of Nashwood. We don't tell you women everything."

  "And we women don't tell you men everything either." Her eyes held challenge.

  Hugh's words of warning came to mind.

  "You would tell me if you were in great danger, wouldn't you?"

  There must have been something in his voice because she softened and touched his arm.

  "Of course, I would." Her nose had turned an adorable red from the cold.

  He kissed her cheek. "Let's go."

  "Are you going to teach me how to defend myself?" she asked, lightening the mood.

  "Only against deer and fox. If you ever encounter a man, I want you to run and come for me."

  She laughed. "Of course, you would say that, Your Grace. Do you believe yourself immortal?"

  He touched her cheek. "I mean it, Sophia. Swear to me that you'll come to me if you find yourself in danger."

  She frowned. "Is something the matter, Morris?"

  "No, and I wish to keep it that way."

  She smiled. "You must really care for me."

  How she could still ask amazed him.

  "You know I do," he whispered. Then he took her hand. "Time to shoot."

  She sighed dramatically but he saw that the smile had remained on her lips and that was enough for him.

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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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  "This doesn't seem right," Sophia whispered as she spread her knees and placed the rifle against her shoulder blade. A few yards away, he'd placed a large target and positioned her body to stand directly in front of it, not with her side facing it but with her entire body pointed in its direction. "I've seen other men stand sideways."

  His voice came directly to her ear, a warmth against the cold. He stood behind her, his body barely brushing hers. His hands were at her arms. "You've seen stronger men who knew what they were doing stand on their sides. I want you to stand like this." His hands moved to her waist. "This way, when the gun recoils, you're less likely to fall. The other stance would leave you to balance on one leg. You'll need both."

  "Are you saying you think me weak?" she asked teasingly.

  His fingers stroked her arms. "No." He lowered her elbows further. "I simply thought you'd enjoy standing, though if you'd rather us lie down..." His hands went to her hips again.

  She smiled and kept her eyes pointed at her target. "Not in this cold." The position, she had to admit, was very comfortable and with the heavy weight of the gun, she was able to hold it steadier with both her feet holding the weight.

  He leaned forward and his lips brushed her cheek. "Then you don’t object to making love in the wilds come summer?" He placed his head against hers and wrapped his arms around her.

  Sophia closed her eyes and enjoyed the embrace. She thought that she wouldn't say no if Morris lifted her skirts at that very moment. She'd been aching for him all night; her body shook with need. His head rested gently against hers and his hands slid up to her shoulders. She felt a slight pressure that forced her shoulder up. Her cheek met the rifle.

  "Hold it there." His voice was husky, letting her know he'd not been unaffected by her touch. "It will give you a steadier hand and better grip."

  She bit her lip. "Do you flirt with all your students?"

  "Only the pretty ones."

  She stilled.

  "You're the first woman I've taught to shoot."

  She smiled.

  His hands touched her everywhere except where she wished him most. "How do you feel?"

  "Distracted."

  He chuckled and kissed her cheek, sending heat down her body, and backed away. "Take aim and fire when you're ready. Remember, squeeze, don't pull."

  Sophia stared at the target, took a breath, and squeezed. As she'd been warned, the recoil nearly knocked her over but thanks to Morris' foresight, she managed to remain on her feet.

  He grabbed the rifle from her hands. "Let's go see how close you were."

  They moved through the woods together, Sophia now more anxious than she'd been before she pulled the trigger. She hoped she'd at least hit the board. Not so that she could impress Morris, but to impress herself. She smiled with excitement as the board came into better view and shouted with joy at seeing a hole just on the board's edge. It was nowhere near the center of the board but she didn't care. She'd hit it.

  She touched the holes in awe. "I did this."

  Morris laughed. "Yes, you did. Very good. With these winds, I'm actually surprised you hit it at all."

  She turned and glared at him. "You doubted my abilities?"

  He leaned against a tree, checking to make sure the rifle was empty before pointing it to the ground. His eyes were bluer with the white of winter surrounding them. "You told me you've never shot a rifle before."

  "I haven't." She lifted a chin. "Perhaps I've a natural talent."

  He laughed again, joy sparking in his eyes.

  She walked over to him. "Don't you think so?" For the first time since pulling the trigger, she wondered what he thought.

  His gaze was warm and seemed to heat further. "You're amazing."

  All too soon, she realized just how close she'd gotten when he reached out and pulled her closer. His head lowered and hers rose. She heard the gun hit the ground as his hands went around her… then lower. He squeezed her bottom, and she moaned with delight.

  "You like that?" His hot mouth trailed down her throat, squeezing her and pulling her closer.

  She grew dizzy, her blood blazing despite the cold. She tried to climb out of her forbidden thoughts, the ones of them backing her into a tree and taking her where anyone could find them. "We... we should go inside and get warm."

>   He smiled against her flesh. "I'm warm enough." He rubbed his lower half against her and his hardness could not be denied. He continued to rock against her while his hands drove her mad. "I can't help but want to be inside you, all day, every day."

  "Morris..." She wanted it, too. She wanted it desperately. She started to rock against him in tandem, lifting on her toes so that her body was more aligned with his.

  He picked her up and turned her against the tree, her fantasy becoming reality.

  "Morris!" someone called from the distance.

  He quickly put her down and stepped away just as Hugh came out of the trees.

  Hugh's expression was of irritation. "Thought you should know we've been found. A group of ladies thought it a good idea to take a walk through the woods."

  Morris groaned darkly, annoyance making him even more tempting, knowing she would take his worries away with a simple kiss.

  Hugh left through the trees just as the sound of feminine laughter could be heard elsewhere.

  "I need to return to the house anyway," Sophia whispered. "I've stayed too long." She needed to leave before she did something foolish.

  "I'll escort you." He picked up his rifle and grabbed her arm before she could say no.

  They went through the side entrance and made it to the empty stairway that they'd first gotten caught in. Sophia started up before him but before she could stop herself she stopped, turned around, and grabbed his head.

  His eyes showed surprise right before she kissed him.

  She broke it before he could touch her and ran further into the house, feeling light and girlish, and very in love.

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  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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  Morris smiled as the ladies at the table spoke, each one trying their very best to impress him. He was unsure how he'd fallen into this trap. When he'd entered the parlor, there had been a game of cards going with the men but slowly the crowd around him had changed. Now he wanted nothing more than to escape.

  "Lord Cort." Lady Beth was staring at her hand. "Perhaps you could finish a debate for us. Everyone knows just how exceptionally brilliant you are."

  Morris nodded.

  She looked at him. "I believe that the entire courting process should be done away with. There should be no more debuts or Seasons that focus so heavily on matchmaking. Instead, parents should choose the very best spouse for their children. Houses should be aligned with strategy for the betterment of everyone. What say you?"

  He lifted a brow, though he was not at all surprised by her stance. Knowing Lady Beth was not inclined to choose love, he said, "But wouldn't you miss the dresses and the gowns?"

  Some of the other women laughed.

  Beth fluttered her lashes. "Not at all. I have complete faith in my father's abilities to choose the right man for me."

  It was no secret between them that the man her father had chosen was sitting right next to her.

  Morris leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Families could and do align themselves in the fashion you speak of, but there must be something said for love. There's something exquisitely precious about it." His thoughts went to Sophia. "Otherwise, why would it exist?"

  "To muddle sensible minds," Lady Beth reasoned.

  "And yet it exists in all of us," Maura said as she came to stand by Morris' chair. A book was tucked under her arm. She'd been reading in the corner for the last few hours, the world around her seeming nonexistent until this moment. "Do you love your father?" she asked Lady Beth.

  "Of course," Beth said defensively.

  "And you'd do anything for him?" Maura went on.

  She lifted her head, placed her cards down on the table, and turned fully to Maura. "Anything."

  Maura smiled. "And do you believe he'd do anything for you?"

  "Yes," she said without doubt or pause, the words leaving her mouth before Maura finished her statement.

  Maura grinned. "And thus, those are the building blocks of all societies. Without love, you wouldn't be here. None of us would. Before maids, nannies, and governesses, mothers and fathers tended to their young, protecting them from all harm, going without so that their children could eat and live. Love brought you here and will continue to bring life into the world."

  Morris smiled, liking Maura's answer a lot and very glad that he'd found the light of love before giving himself over to duty and tradition.

  "Many of the children in the music room who are rehearsing for their Christmas performance were created out of love." Maura placed her hand on Morris' shoulder and turned to him. "Would you mind if I took your seat for the rest of the card game?"

  Morris would have kissed Maura right then and there but instead he simply stood. "I adore you. I owe you," he whispered when he passed her.

  "Go visit the children," she whispered in reply before taking his seat. She then turned to the ladies at the table and picked up Morris' cards. "Whatever are we playing?"

  Morris slipped from the room before anyone could stop him. He headed for the other parlor where he knew his friends would be, but then he remembered Maura's words and went to the music room. He wasn't sure what awaited him there but was greeted by the sound of a harp and children reciting Charles Wesley's poem Hark the Harold Angels Sing.

  The room was small and light green with white trimming around the doors and windows. It was sparsely decorated like the rest of the house except for the large piano that had been pushed into a corner. Lamps burned at different tables and over the mantle. The harpist, a very young and talented girl, played by the fireplace, the children at her side, and in the center of the room, sitting amongst a group of nannies, maids, and governesses was Sophia. She smiled as one child stopped and the next child picked up where the other had left off. Each child had a turn.

  Morris closed the door softly behind him but his presence got one of the maid's attention and immediately the music stopped. The staff stood and either bowed or curtseyed.

  "Your Grace," one of the governesses said. "We're sorry if we've disturbed you."

  "There's nothing disturbing about the harp or the poem." He smiled. "I was enjoying myself. Please, don't stop."

  The governess curtsied again then turned to the children. "Let's start again for the duke."

  Morris found Sophia to still be watching him. Her smile made his heart rock in his ribcage. She took her seat with the others and looked at him expectantly. He crossed the room and a footman brought him a chair. He sat by her side. "Sorry, I interrupted."

  "It's all right," she replied. "The children might be less nervous on Christmas if they know a duke has already seen them perform and enjoyed it." Her eyes moved back to the front of the room.

  Morris followed suit and listened as the poem started again. When it was completed, he rose, knowing that all eyes fell on him. He bowed. "That was exceptionally good. I'm sure your families will all be very proud of you."

  "What do you say to Lord Cort?" the governess said.

  "Thank you, Your Grace." The children smiled and bowed as well.

  Sophia stood and curtsied at the children. Amongst them, though young, were a few lords and ladies. "I'm very proud of you all and you've worked so very hard that I'm sure you'd all enjoy a nice baked apple."

  Their eyes widened and the doors opened as footmen brought in trays of the treats.

  The children turned to the governess who'd been placed over them all. She stood like a military commander and seemed to have a firm control over them all but smiled when she said, "Enjoy your apples."

  The children moved to the tables briskly but didn't run, and each was given an apple.

  "Come with me." Sophia started from the room and Morris trailed after her.

  When they reached the hall, he said, "When do you sleep?"

  She smiled at him as they walked down the ha
ll. "Oh, I sleep just fine."

  When the footman cleared the hall, he pulled her against him and asked, "And exactly where is that?"

  She giggled softly. "I will not tell you where I sleep." She pushed out of his hold just as two ladies went down the hall. She was stopped by a guest and complimented on how well the party was going before the women went on. "You're going to get us caught."

  "I want to be with you."

  She looked at him. "We can't discuss this now."

  "When?" he asked when they reached the end of the hall.

  She sighed and looked up at him, her green eyes showing her confusion. "I don't know."

  He nodded, knowing she needed more time. He would give her time. He could wait. He managed to not kiss her before saying, "I'll see you at dinner."

  She nodded and ran away just as she'd done earlier that day. Always running but he prayed that very soon she'd be caught.

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  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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  Sophia walked into the study the next morning and her father smiled at her entrance.

  “You’re just in time. Happy Christmas.” He moved back to reveal the dress in its complete form. A pair of long sleeves had been added and the embroidery now trailed down the bodice and spread like a field of flowers, making the dress seem more magical than before.

  Sophia dared not touch it, feeling unworthy of such a piece, a first for her. “This is probably the most innocent dress you’ve ever created.”

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  She recalled what she’d just done the other day with Morris in the library, as well as the other man who’d watched her with longing at dinner. Lord Helsby, along with many of the other men, had been placed at a separate table, yet that didn’t seem to stop him. He’d kept his distance but even his eyes were beginning to bother her. She’d noticed on more than one occasion one of the Men of Nashwood standing guard for her and Aaron openly glaring at the man, challenging him to defy him.