Larkin kept his eyes fixed on Sophia’s, the corner of his mouth quirking just enough to form a smile. “Fall into disarray and misery with immediate effect.”
“Oh, for shame, Mr. Roth,” Eliza scolded with a merry laugh. “You cannot be so bad as all that.”
“Don’t encourage him, Eliza,” Sophia warned, unable to look away from the man before her. “He’ll only grow more tiresome.”
Larkin nodded in agreement. “I will. I always do.”
“Always,” Sophia confirmed.
“You’re an impossible set, the pair of you,” Eliza bemoaned, laughing again. “And Mr. Roth, to have been absent from us the whole of the day. It is monstrous unkind to your guests.”
Sophia clamped down on her lips hard to keep from bursting into fits of giggles. What had started out as a little trick on her part had led to Larkin’s absence for the entire day, and she had only heard of his returning from the farms an hour ago. She had expected roaring and raging, any sort of agitated response that would see her somehow chastened in his eyes.
What she had received was silence.
Anticipation had been building ever since, and now…
“Alas, Miss Beacom,” Larkin answered with a reluctant sigh, “the duties of a landowner are ofttimes inconvenient, particularly when one wishes for a life of pleasure.”
“Duties?” Taft asked as he and Miss Richards approached their small group. “Whoever hears of duties at a house party?”
Larkin raised his hand. “I, sir. When my gamekeeper writes of a particular issue with some of our livestock, I feel it my solemn obligation to see to the matter with my own eyes.”
“What a charming description of your responsibilities, Mr. Roth,” Miss Richards praised, placing a hand against her heart, seemingly moved. “And so many treat their livestock with such indifference.”
“Larkin has never been indifferent to our animals, Miss Richards,” Sophia informed her with some pride, unshed laughter quivering within her chest. “He cares for them very much. Takes a personal interest. Calliope in particular seems to have formed a bond with him.”
Larkin half-coughed, managing somehow to pass the action off as simply being congested. “That she has, and I fear I spent the whole day in her company. Poor dear.”
“How precious!” Miss Richards gushed, looking close to tears. “What sort of animal is she?”
“A goat,” Larkin told her without the slightest inflection of humor. “One with most peculiar tastes. She cannot abide Miss Anson. Haven’t the faintest notion why.”
Now it was Sophia’s turn to disguise a laugh, and if Taft’s looks between the two of them were anything to judge by, he knew full well there was a joke somewhere.
“Yes,” Sophia managed, “I fear I have yet to win her affections.”
“Take heart,” Larkin told her placatingly. “I have every confidence that you will once you have spent time enough in her company, as I have.”
Miss Richards, who seemed to either not have the sense that Sophia thought she possessed or was fonder of animals than any human had a right to be, whimpered to herself before pinching Taft hard on the arm.
“Ow!” he yelped in protest, covering his arm and leaning away from her. “What was that for, Janie?”
“You have animals on your estates, Taft,” she scolded with real irritation. “Why can you not be so caring and considerate about them?”
He held up his free hand in a helpless gesture. “I see them fed, watered, properly confined, and sold to the highest bidder. What more would you have me do?”
Miss Richards rolled her eyes dramatically and gave Eliza and Sophia despairing looks. “And he thinks himself such a fine catch.”
“I am a fine catch,” Taft replied heatedly. “Ask anyone.”
“I will,” she retorted, turning to storm off towards other guests.
Larkin and Sophia exchanged looks of borderline hilarity, then looked away just as quickly.
“Someone start dancing, will you?” Taft said to no one in particular, frowning deeply.
Larkin cleared his throat at that remark. “I do believe that is my cue. Sophia, if you wouldn’t mind?”
She jerked to look at him in surprise. “Me?”
His expression reflected the same surprise back to her. “You are mistress of Rosennor. Who else should I open the ball with?”
“Who else, indeed?” Eliza echoed with an approving nod.
“Hear, hear,” Taft cheered.
Sophia swallowed, her eyes on Larkin. Really? she asked without words.
His chin dipped in a hint of a nod, his hand extending to her.
Fingers trembling within her glove, Sophia placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be led to the floor to the applause of the others gathered.
“What if I dance poorly?” Sophia hissed between her teeth as she smiled for the benefit of their guests.
“I won’t tell,” he whispered back. “Besides, you owe me for your antics today.”
Her nerves vanished in the face of rising defiance. “I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about.”
Larkin grinned very slowly, and Sophia’s toes seemed to curl with the heat of it. “That’s precisely what I thought you’d say,” he murmured, bowing as the dance commenced.
Dancing with Sophia was not like dancing with anyone else. How could it be? She could have made him burst out laughing with a single look, had he not been biting into his tongue so hard it pained him constantly. Every turn of the dance had them exchanging looks, snickering about the unexpected outing he’d taken, which she might never admit to and he would ever accuse her of.
And then there was the slight factor of how much he wanted to look at her tonight, and spend an excessively long time doing so. She was the picture of beauty by anyone’s description, and far beyond it in anyone’s imagination. Trying as she made life for him at times, he would never deny that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life.
The reminder that she lived in the same house as he did was not exactly pleasant, but it did stir him.
“Stop smiling at me like that,” Sophia scolded in a hiss as they joined hands in the dance.
Had he been smiling? That was strange, he usually was fully aware of what his face was doing. But he wasn’t about to make himself stop smiling if his lips wanted to do so, and there was too much to smile about where Sophia was concerned.
“No, I don’t think I will,” he replied without any concern as they parted. He circled around the gentleman next to him, watching as Sophia did the same on her side.
She glared as they danced, and the moment they were back together to proceed down the line of couples, she hissed, “I mean it!”
“So do I.”
“People will talk.”
“Indeed, they will.” He squeezed the hand he held. “But then, they didn’t spend the entire day being serenaded by a screaming goat.”
That cracked Sophia’s demeanor once more, and she giggled behind clamped lips for the rest of their procession.
“Go ahead, laugh about it,” Larkin continued in an encouraging tone. “Just imagine me sitting on the green trying to figure out which sheep was Essie, as I couldn’t tell if any of them were particularly rotund. I was encouraged to stab the inflation, if anything should happen while our gamekeeper and his friend were gone.”
“With what?” Sophia asked through laughter as they stood across from each other, waiting for other couples to process and circle around.
Larkin sighed heavily, forcing as much dejection into the sound as he could. “I wondered the same thing myself, but no one told me.”
Sophia managed to finally compose herself, but her eyes still danced with the light of every candle in the room. “And our gamekeeper?”
Now that was his favorite part of the story. “Indeed, the gamekeeper.” He nodded very sagely, given the circumstances. “Imagine my surprise when the man I had assumed was the gamekeeper informed
me upon his return, several hours after his departure, that he was not, in fact, the Rosennor gamekeeper, but one of the local farmers.” He let his smile fade and speared Sophia with a hard look. “Your farmers.”
To her credit, Sophia’s gasp was rather convincing, and had he not known her so well, he might have believed it. But he did know her, and he did not believe it.
“I know,” he said dramatically as they joined hands with each other and their neighbors for a large circular pattern in the dance. “I thought surely there must be some mistake, as the footman I had my note from this morning had specifically said it was from the gamekeeper, but it is true. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Why would I know?” she asked, neatly deflecting his question. “I had the ball to worry about, and your refusal to have the statues moved. There was no time to worry about my farmers.”
Larkin hummed in thought, the dance coming to a close. “And yet, they seemed surprised that I had remained in the place they had left me for such a long time. All pretense was gone then, and it turns out that neither Calliope nor Essie were in any distress whatsoever. Which meant that my entire day had been wasted for no reason. I had to stop by our lovely gazebo on the way home to properly express my feelings on the subject, and I can assure you, that took a minute or two.”
Sophia’s smile was small, smug, and knowing, and Larkin felt unaccountably playful because of it. “Surely spending quality time with your goat is a good reason. She is so fond of you.”
He narrowed his eyes as the other couples departed the dance floor. “And it happens that she listens remarkably well.”
“What did you tell her?”
Larkin stepped closer to her, only stopping when his shoulder barely brushed hers. He turned his head, his lips hovering just above her ear. “That this would not go unavenged. I shall have my satisfaction, Soph.”
She shivered, and he felt an accompanying shiver race up his legs. “Oh?” she murmured, though the word was weak and trembling.
Larkin made the mistake of nodding, though Sophia couldn’t see it, and his lips brushed the edge of her ear. Fire shot across his lips, and he recoiled in shock, the heat racing into his entire face and spiraling about his ears. “Yes,” he heard himself say, though the air of playfulness had vanished.
He didn’t know what it was that was in his voice, didn’t know what he was feeling, didn’t know if he was feeling. But it was an answer, and that was all that was required.
Sophia hadn’t moved, but the ear his lips had touched was now pink, almost as if the fire he had felt had also singed that tender skin. Her breathing was unsteady, and she didn’t look at him, but he knew how her eyes would look. Bright, brilliant, and, at the present, slightly unfocused.
Probably because his own were unfocused, and he could only blink helplessly.
Then Sophia inhaled raggedly, and exhaled in a rush, marching towards one side of the room without a word to him.
He marched in the opposite direction and headed for the nearest beverage he could find.
Something needed to drown, and it needed to drown now.
“All right there, Larkin?”
Larkin shook his head. “Not now, Taft.” He downed whatever beverage he had swiped from the footman without pausing for air.
“Not all right, then. Evidently.” Taft took the empty glass, placed it on the proffered tray, and took another one, then placed it in Larkin’s hand. “One dance in and you’re already done for. Pathetic, my friend.”
Pathetic was the perfect description for the situation, and for Larkin himself. Pathetic for agreeing to this ridiculous house party. Pathetic for sitting out on the grass all day with his ridiculous goat. Pathetic for being so unhinged by a ridiculous brush of lips against skin.
He swallowed and downed the beverage in hand, this one having a searing burn against his throat that he hissed at.
Pathetic and ridiculous. That was Larkin Roth.
“It is only the third night, my friend,” Taft was saying with a laugh, clapping him on the back. “Your endurance will need to strengthen significantly, or you’ll never impress any of the ladies present.”
There was no point thinking of any ladies present, not when his lips were still buzzing.
“Right,” he said before he could stop himself. He forced himself to look around the room, pretending to be unaffected, buzzing lips and all. There were several ladies present, all of them beautiful and lovely in their own respect. Taft had invited the best of his acquaintances, it was clear, and it was fortunate indeed for Rosennor to have such guests within its halls.
A pair of vibrant blue eyes across the room caught his attention, and his scanning paused as his focus intensified.
Sophia, a vision in blue, standing directly across the room, not dancing, her attention on him.
Staring was rude, he’d been told, but there was nothing else to do at this moment. Except…
He made sure his eyes stayed on hers as he took one step to his right and then leaned against a perfectly placed statue, feigning great comfort and relaxation.
Sophia rolled her eyes dramatically, but she grinned all the same, shaking her head.
“They stay,” he mouthed, pointing a finger to the ground emphatically.
“They go,” she mouthed back jerking a thumb over her shoulder.
“Stay,” he said.
“Go,” she insisted.
Back and forth they went until Sophia covered her mouth on a laugh.
Larkin marked a pretend tally in the air and folded his arms smugly.
Sophia shook her head again, her smile somehow sweeter now than it had been earlier. She mouthed something else, but he couldn’t make it out, frowning at her.
She tried again, but that wasn’t any clearer.
Her full lips moved slowly and deliberately, and he was rapt on their motion. For more reasons than one.
Then the words lit up his mind.
You’re ridiculous.
He grinned at her. At them. At all of this.
And he just shrugged.
Perhaps he was.
CHAPTER 18
“You’re sure you have everything, Taft? It has to be perfect.”
“For the fifteenth time, Sophia, yes, I have everything. When did you become such a stickler for perfection?”
Sophia smirked at the jab, sneering across her parlor at him. “You have no one to blame but yourself. You brought this upon us, and after the ball the other night, I felt determined to make this…”
“Make this the best house party ever known, yes, I know.” Taft rolled his eyes and slouched inelegantly in his chair. “I’ve created a monster. I don’t know how, but I did. All I wanted to do was help a friend, and now I’ve become the consultant for house parties.” He rolled his head on the back of the chair to look at her. “I did have some ambition to forge romantic attachments of my own at this event, I’ll have you know.”
“And yet I have a feeling you’re doing just fine in that regard,” Sophia replied, turning more fully in her chair to face him. “Am I wrong?”
Taft stared at her for a long moment, then slowly cast a smile at her that was undoubtedly supposed to make her blush and swoon and engage in all manner of distinctly feminine dramatics.
Unfortunately, it had no effect on her whatsoever.
“No,” Taft said slowly, drawing out the word. “No, you’re not wrong.”
Sophia nodded primly and turned back to her writing desk. “I thought not.”
“How is it that you are the one woman in the world entirely immune to my charms?” Taft queried with what had to be innocent curiosity, as he sounded rather petulant.
She snorted loudly. “I think we can safely say I am not the only woman immune.” She looked over at Mrs. Windermere, sitting with her embroidery in the corner of the room, who exchanged a bemused smile with her.
“One of a select few, then,” he relented, scoffing. “How do you do it? I must know.”
“Stamina,” she replied without concern. “Fortitude. Good sense, and a fair warning.”
“Warning?” Taft repeated in outrage. “From whom?”
Sophia barked a laugh. “Who do you think?” Then she gasped and dropped her pen. “Good heavens, I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
She whirled in her seat. “We’re supposed to be out with the others participating in lawn games. Larkin had everything structured and laid out perfectly, and I was so worried about tonight that I commandeered you after breakfast even though Larkin told me not to be alone with you…”
“He said what?”
“No time for that. Mrs. Windermere, fetch Mrs. Roth!” She darted from her chair and raced out of her parlor towards the back of the house, not caring if Taft followed. She and Larkin had been working together so well the last few days, the house party details flowing beautifully, and, for the most part, without any issues at all.
Why, even Mrs. Roth had been participating more and more, her behavior so entirely collected it unnerved Sophia at every turn.
Tonight would once more be an evening of cards, but she had instructed Taft to suggest some dancing halfway through the evening. Something to lighten the atmosphere, and then those that mightn’t enjoy cards to the full would at least have dancing to participate in.
Lady Lawson would likely not enjoy any of it, as she had yet to enjoy anything, but Sophia had given up on trying to entertain her.
Mr. Bell seemed to be taking an interest in Eliza Beacom, and Sophia was wild to see if they had partnered for the lawn games. She’d made a bit of a nuisance of herself to Larkin over it, but there was nothing to be done about that. Some things were worth a bit of nuisance.
Out on the terrace, Sophia caught sight of Larkin, standing along the edge and surveying all as though he were truly lord and master overseeing his kingdom. On the lawn, however, chaos reigned.
“How is it going?” Sophia panted as she came to his side, her mad dash through the house catching up with her.
“It’s fine,” Larkin replied simply, his tone too stiff and too high. “It’s fine. Everything is on fire, but it’s fine.”
The Rivals of Rosennor Hall (Entangled Inheritance Book 3) Page 20