A Match Made In Duty

by Platt, Meara

  He laughed, for this was Sophie. Ever practical in the face of impending disaster. In truth, he liked that undefinable quality about her, that ability to make him feel comfortable under the most humiliating circumstances. She’d earlier admitted that she loved him. Did she mean it?

  She couldn’t possibly.

  “No, Sophie. I’ll manage that chore myself.” He struggled to his feet, grateful that she made no move to assist him. Instead, she turned away and walked to the ewer filled with water that stood on his bureau and dipped her handkerchief in it. By the time she’d wrung out the excess moisture and returned with it, he had finished tucking in his shirt and buttoning his trousers.

  She held out the damp cloth and he took it with a nod, wiping the sweat off his brow and neck. “Thank you.”

  She glanced at the wet, twisted handkerchief in his hand. “It’s the least I could do. I know how irritating I can be at times. It is I who should thank you for indulging me.”

  He set aside the handkerchief and took her hands in his. “I think it is the other way around. I was behaving like a petulant child and you were the responsible adult who brought me back to my senses.” He frowned. “I need to know the truth, Sophie. What you said earlier… did you mean it? Do you love me?” He knew it wasn’t possible, but he was feeling rather low at the moment and needed to hear it from her lips, even if it was a lie. What could she possibly love about him? His sweat and the stale scent of scotch on his breath? His decaying leg and prominent scars? His disregard of all the small things that would make her life comfortable?

  He hadn’t done much other than buy her new clothes.

  He’d been nothing but surly and rude in the little time he’d spent with her today. Blast, he hadn’t even shown her this house. Last night, she’d had to ask him for directions to her bedchamber. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer the question. I had no right to ask it.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll lie to you out of pity?”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “No, you’re far too honest for that.”

  She smiled back, but hers was an openhearted smile that shone straight into his heart. “You mean, I’m far too blunt for that. I’m afraid I would never succeed as a diplomat.” She swallowed hard and spoke into his chest, no longer daring to look up at him. “I do love you. If you’ll indulge me for a moment, I’ll tell you why.”

  He said nothing at first, for he was indeed curious. Stunned, frankly. “You’ve known me less than a week. Most of that time, I’ve been dismissive and curt.”

  “I’ve known you for years, James. You fought beside my brother for a very long time and his letters were filled with news of you.” She placed her hand lightly on his chest, but still refused to meet his gaze. “I know it wasn’t fair of my brother to force you to promise to marry me. I had every intention of releasing you from that wretched oath.” She sighed. “And then you touched my hand, and my body began to tingle. If you must know, it tingles whenever we touch. It’s doing so now.”

  He smiled, silently thanking whatever forces had conspired to bring Sophie into his life. He wanted to tuck a finger under her chin and tip her face upward so that she would meet his gaze, but he could tell by the rose blush on her cheeks that this admission was embarrassing for her, so he stayed quiet while she continued. “I knew from the very first moment that no other man would do for me. I was thinking only of myself when I went along with this ill-conceived arrangement.”

  He now tipped her chin up so that she met his gaze. “Not so, you did offer to let me out of it.”

  She shook her head and gave a groaning laugh. “You ought to know me better than that by now. If I had truly wanted to release you from your promise, we would not be married now.”

  He glanced down at her hand that was still resting upon his chest. “Are you still tingling?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

  “Not at all. I’ve been hoping you would ever since the doctor left us.”

  Was it truly possible she loved him, that she wanted him to kiss her? She was bright-eyed and sober. He wasn’t, but so what? It was only a kiss. He wouldn’t attempt more just now, for a man in his cups might think he was a brilliant lover, but in truth, he’d just be an incompetent, slobbering wretch.

  His mouth closed over hers with all good intentions of keeping their kiss light and gentle, but the drunk part of him took over, the hungry, aching part of him that needed Sophie desperately and wanted to know all of her.

  He pressed down on her mouth with little control and lots of abandon, teasing her pursed lips apart. He loved that she was too inexperienced to realize that one kissed one’s grandmother on the cheek with pursed lips, but passionate kisses required something altogether different.

  He deepened the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up against him so that he could feel the lushness of her body against his chest and inhale the lavender sweetness of her skin. All the while, he probed along the seam of her lips, gently forcing them apart with his tongue and plunging into her velvet warmth when she opened her mouth to gasp in surprise.

  Probably one of the worst, sloppiest kisses he’d ever given a girl, but Sophie didn’t seem to mind. No, she didn’t seem to mind and at all, and was clutching his shoulders and winding her fingers in his hair with the same abandon as he was using to explore her delicate mouth.

  “Oh, my!” Her words came out in a breathy moan. In the next moment, she pressed her mouth to his with the same desperately hot urgency that he now felt. “This is delightful,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Why didn’t you–”

  “Sophie, stop talking.”

  He was still a little drunk. And limping. And sweating once more as he led her to his bed and settled atop her, knowing it was the worst thing he could do, but he would explode if he didn’t have her soon. A volcanic heat was building up inside of him that needed to be released. He wasted no time in running his hands over Sophie’s warm body. Blessed saints, her skin was soft as sweet cream.

  He lifted onto his elbows, for his body was big and he had no wish to crush her. “I want you, Sophie.” He didn’t wait for a response before lowering his mouth to the pulse at the base of her neck and teasing a moan out of her.

  He rolled aside, desperate to undress her, but she was tightly buttoned up and he was too overheated to manage those nefarious buttons right now.

  His heart was pounding through his ears.

  Sophie was reciprocating with her own explorations.

  Someone was urgently pounding on his door.

  What the devil?

  The urgent pounding persisted. “James, I just heard! Open up!”

  His cousin, Tynan.

  James rolled off Sophie with a groan that sprang from the depths of his soul. “Bloody bad timing.”

  Sophie’s hair was a delightful mess and her gown was hiked up to her thighs revealing those long, shapely legs he’d been caressing only a moment ago. She scrambled off the bed and hastily straightened her gown. “My hair’s undone.” She put a hand to her rosy cheek. “Is my face flushed?”

  He grinned. “Red as a beet and your hair’s tumbling down about your shoulders.”

  “Oh, dear!” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips that meant more to him than he could ever express, for it was an impulsive gesture that came straight from her heart. She muttered another “oh, dear” and fled to her quarters through the private door that separated their rooms.

  Tynan once more pounded on his door with irritating persistence. “Answer me or I’ll break it down!”

  James donned his jacket, hoping it would cover the arousing effect Sophie had on him, and limped across his bedchamber to allow his cousin in. “What the hell is wrong with you? London had better be on fire or I’ll–”

  “I heard the news. Is it true? Dr. Foster wants to amputate?” Tynan grabbed him in a bear hug. “Ask anything of me. I’ll do all I can to help.”

  James rolled his eyes the moment Tynan r
eleased him. “I’m fine, Ty. I promise.”

  His cousin frowned. “You are?” He studied him a long moment. “Well, I’ll be damned. You are. I was worried about you. Needlessly, it seems.”

  “Well, you’re here now. We may as well talk.” James grabbed his cane and motioned for Tynan to follow him downstairs into his study. Tynan began to sniff the air the moment he marched in. “Reeks of scotch. What happened?”

  James sank into the oversized leather chair he’d occupied before Sophie had marched in and kicked his arse. “Sophie happened.” He grinned wryly and offered his cousin a seat. “She saw me wallowing in pity and bemoaning my dismal fate. She made it clear to me that she’d have none of it, so she grabbed the bottle out of my hand and held it out of my reach. I got angry and tossed my glass into the fire.”

  Tynan frowned. “Damn it, James. You must have scared her.”

  “Ha! If you must know, she scared the hell out of me. I was determined to drink myself into oblivion and was well on my way to doing so when she interrupted me. Another man might have struck her when she grabbed the bottle. I wouldn’t have, of course. But she didn’t know that.”

  Tynan nodded. “That was brave of her.”

  “In truth, if I’d dared raise a hand to her, she would have bludgeoned me with the heaviest object close at hand. She berated me for accepting my fate and forced me to see another doctor. Do you know George Farthingale?”

  Tynan’s eyes widened. “Never had the pleasure of meeting him. But yes, I’ve heard that he’s the best around.”

  “That’s what Sophie said and insisted on summoning him. He left here not an hour ago. Wouldn’t get my hopes up, but he’s going to try to save my leg.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. That’s excellent news.” Tynan eased back in his chair and let out a long, ragged breath. “Seems I needn’t have worried about you, after all.”

  “There’s no assurance his treatment will work. I may still lose my leg.”

  Tynan leaned forward. “Promise to let me know if that happens. I know what you went through in the war and how difficult this continued battle has been for you. Let me help in any way I can. Don’t sink into the same abyss that seems to have claimed so many good men returning from the Continent.”

  James shook his head in acknowledgment. “Sophie won’t let me so much as dip a toe into that abyss. She’s quite something, Ty. I was sinking fast a few hours ago, but she pulled me right out of it. At least, for now.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.” He leaned forward and glanced around. “Where is she now?”

  “Resting in her quarters.” He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the urge to laugh, for Tynan would be horrified to learn that he’d interrupted them in mid-pleasure with his well-intentioned concern. “She spent the day shopping with friends. As my countess, she’ll need to look the part. Not that I care. She looks splendid to me. But everyone thinks I’m fulfilling a debt of honor, that I’ve married a sad, little mouse. I’ll not have them looking down their noses at Sophie. She has more worth than all of us.”

  Tynan choked on a laugh. “I’ll be damned.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Can’t help it. Didn’t take you long to fall in love with her.”

  James frowned. “Who said I was in love with her?”

  “You just did.”

  “I respect her. It isn’t at all the same thing.” That he coveted her body, that he craved her willing and responsive body with an ache bordering on madness, was irrelevant.

  Tynan shrugged his shoulders. “Fine, keep deluding yourself. But if she happens to have a cousin who’s anything like her, send her my way. I’m sick of these Society fribbles who giggle at everything I say and think I’m brilliant because I’m a wealthy viscount. Of course, I am witty and brilliant and wealthy, but that’s beside the point.”

  They spoke a while longer, and although James still had Sophie foremost on his mind, he was also grateful for Tynan’s friendship. He rose to escort his cousin to the front door when Sophie came downstairs. She glanced at James and blushed profusely.

  Lord, the widgeon might as well have shouted out what they had been doing when Tynan interrupted them. Ty’s eyes rounded in obvious surprise and he cast James a knowing grin. “Lady Exmoor, a pleasure to see you. Forgive my unexpected visit, but I’d heard distressing news and rushed right over to make certain my cousin was… well, I know now that he is in the best of hands. I’ll see you both at my mother’s party tomorrow evening.”

  James turned to Sophie the moment his cousin closed the front door behind him. “Care to pick up where we left off when Ty so rudely interrupted us?”

  Her face turned bright as a cherry.

  “Sophie, I’m teasing you,” he said, caressing her warm cheek. “But I will visit you tonight, with your permission.”

  She released the breath she must have been holding. “Oh, thank goodness. Yes, you have my permission.” Her smile was shy, but nonetheless enchanting.

  He nodded. Perhaps he did love her, after all.

  Even if she was a bossy bit of goods.

  Yes, quite possible that he was falling in love with her.

  CHAPTER 6

  SOPHIE’S HEART WAS beating fast and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. After sharing a quiet supper with James, she’d gone upstairs and, with Bessie’s assistance, readied herself for bed. She wore a lacy, rose nightgown, something she’d purchased today from Madame de Bressard’s shop at the insistence of her two friends who’d claimed the color was becoming on her and matched the pale blush on her skin.

  Her skin was a flaming red right now, for the lacy confection was quite skimpy. Nothing at all like her practical bedclothes. She’d insisted on braiding her hair over her maid’s protests, as though having one’s hair primly bound would lend propriety to what this evening would bring. “Why bother, m’lady? His lordship will only undo it the moment you’re alone.”

  Assuming he joined her later.

  She hoped he would, but he had much to consider regarding his medical situation. His leg had been painfully twinging this evening, so she wasn’t certain what he would do.

  She dismissed Bessie, and after the minutes passed with no indication that James was upstairs and preparing himself for their assignation, she was about to give up waiting and climb into bed when she heard the door to their adjoining chambers open. “Sophie?”

  “I’m awake, James.” She had been sitting in a chair beside the warming fire, but rose to walk to his side. He wore a black dressing gown that fell to his knees, and didn’t appear to be wearing anything beneath it. He leaned on his cane for support, and although her gaze was mostly on his handsome face and rugged shoulders, she also noticed the muscular expanse of his chest and the sprinkle of fine, gold hairs across it as he strained to maintain his balance.

  She glanced lower, unable to overlook the long, deep gashes that ran up the side of his injured leg, discoloring the skin from ankle to knee. Those gashes didn’t end there, but his dressing gown covered the upper part of his leg, so the nasty gouges that existed beneath the fabric were hidden from view.

  “You look beautiful,” he said with a sense of wonder that immediately eased her fears.

  Her smile broadened. “So do you.”

  He chuckled. “Hardly, but thank you anyway.”

  He said nothing more and conveyed how he felt by taking her into his arms and kissing her softly on the lips. He caressed her cheek and then ran his fingers through her hair to unbind her braid so that her dark, unruly mane tumbled down her back and curled about her hips.

  Bessie was right.

  She ought to have listened more carefully to the girl’s advice.

  In her own defense, she’d been too distracted to take in a single word.

  James kissed her again, at the same time unlacing the front of her nightgown. Her heart shot into her throat, for she’d never experienced such intimacy before and didn’t know what to do in response, or if she was supposed
to do anything at all. Before she could ask, James began kissing her neck. She gasped as her body turned into a fiery inferno, his touch sending intensely hot ripples coursing through her body.

  She gripped his shoulders and clung to him like a barnacle, afraid to let go. Her legs had turned to water and could no longer hold her up.

  She moaned and gasped and cried out softly as the pleasurable sensations overwhelmed her. Finally, she closed her eyes and simply allowed herself to give in to the warmth of his lips on her skin and the excitement of his hands caressing her body. His hands were not those of a gentleman, not soft and milky, but unrefined as those of a workman. The roughness of his palms, coupled with the gentleness of his touch, intensified her response, stirred her passion beyond anything she’d ever experienced before.

  In truth, this was her first experience with passion and she now understood what all the fuss was about.

  “Sophie, let me look at you,” he said in a groaning whisper.

  She opened her eyes only to realize he’d slipped the nightgown off her body. She felt the cool air against her damp skin when he eased away, and ought to have been embarrassed standing before him without a stitch of clothing on. But he was staring at her in wonder, his smoldering gaze delighting her. This was her husband, the man with whom she would share the rest of her life, and she was pleased that he wanted to know her in this intimate way.

  She rather liked the dark and fiery gleam in his eyes.

  She smiled at him. “So much for business arrangements.”

  He chuckled and led her to the bed, but she sensed his disappointment in not being able to sweep her off her feet and carry her there. Any regrets were soon forgotten as she slipped between the sheets. James gently nudged her onto her back and settled over her, no doubt determined to take up where they’d left off earlier in the day.

  A hot shiver ran through her as the rough silk of his dressing gown rubbed against her sensitive skin. She could feel the heat of his body through the fabric, but she wanted more. She wanted nothing between them.

  She grew bold and attempted to unfasten his belt, not easily accomplished while her hands were shaking and she lay trapped between the mattress and his big, warm body. She loved the light crush of his weight upon her.