Lady Sophia's Lover (Bow Street Runners #2)(76)

“I saw your face when he spoke to you.” Ross smiled reassuringly. “It’s all right. Lyndhurst can’t harm you, Sophia. You’re mine now.”

Slowly she relaxed in his hold, acutely relieved that there would be no explosions of jealousy and no bitter accusations. What an extraordinary man Ross was, she thought with a rush of love. So many other men would have scorned her for her lack of virginity and regarded her as soiled goods. But Ross had always treated her with respect. “You mustn’t refer to Anthony as my lover,” she chided softly. “He gave me only pain and shame. You are the only lover I’ve ever had.”

He bent his head and kissed her temple. “Don’t worry, my sweet. He won’t trouble you again. In fact, I suspect he has left the ball precipitately.”

Something in his tone made her wonder if he had actually approached Anthony. “Ross,” she said suspiciously, “about this ‘rodent’ you disposed of—”

“The opening march is beginning,” he interrupted, pulling her with him to the mass of whirling couples.

“Yes, but did you—”

“Come—it is our responsibility to lead.”

As Ross had intended, Sophia was distracted. “I’m not certain I can,” she said. “I’ve seen the march a few times, but I’ve never had the opportunity to try it.”

“It’s very simple,” he murmured, drawing her hand into the crook of his arm. “Just follow my lead.”

Although their hands were gloved, Sophia felt a thrill at the pressure of his fingers. She looked up at his dark face and said with a sudden throb in her voice, “I would follow you anywhere.”

Ross’s thick lashes veiled his smoky eyes. She sensed his rampant desire to be alone with her. “Three hours,” he said, speaking as if to himself.

“What?” she asked.

“Three hours until midnight. Then you will go upstairs, and I will follow soon after.”

“Oh. Isn’t that rather too early to retire from a ball such as this? I suspect some of the couples will be dancing until dawn.”

“We won’t be one of them,” he said firmly, escorting her to the drawing room. “I can think of a much better way to spend the rest of the evening.”

“Sleeping?” she said with false innocence.

Ross bent to whisper his alternative, and grinned as a wild blush rose in her face.

Chapter 16

Ross could barely contain his annoyance upon their return to Bow Street, when all half-dozen runners gathered to congratulate him on his nuptials. The runners loudly insisted on their rights to “kiss the bride,” and one after another, they bent over Sophia in a manner that was far more brotherly than amorous. However, Ross was scowling by the time he retrieved his giggling wife. He gave them all a warning stare. “Attend to your duties now.”Grumbling good-naturedly, the runners filed out of Bow Street No. 4, but not before Eddie Sayer beseeched Sophia, “Do what you can to soften his temper. You’re our only hope, milady.”

Laughing, Sophia threw her arms around Ross’s neck and kissed his stern mouth. “There—will that serve to soften you?”

A reluctant grin curved his lips, and he kissed her possessively. “I’m afraid it’s having the opposite effect. But don’t stop.”

She gave him a provocative glance from beneath her lashes. “No more until this evening. You have work to do.”

“Morgan will take care of it. I’ll only stay long enough to attend to a few minor concerns, and then you and I are going on an errand.”

“What kind of errand?” She sighed as he kissed the side of her throat, his lips traveling in a leisurely path up to her ear.

“We are going to look at something.”

“Something large or small?”

“Large.” He nibbled at a sensitive place on her neck. “Quite large.”

“What kind of—” she began, but he silenced her with a thorough kiss.

“No more questions. Be ready to leave in an hour.”

Although Sophia had expected him to be delayed by work, Ross returned for her in precisely an hour and escorted her to their carriage. She pestered him with questions, but he was maddeningly taciturn, refusing to give any hint about the nature of the mysterious errand. As the carriage traveled westward, Sophia lifted a corner of the sheer panel that covered the window and watched the scenery outside. They passed spectacular arcades and markets where luxury goods were sold, including haberdashers, goldsmiths, button-makers, perfumers, and even a feather shop bearing the intriguing title of “Plumassier.”

As this was an area of London that Sophia had never visited before, she was fascinated by the masses of beautifully dressed people promenading through it.

Ladies and gentlemen of distinction visited the confectioner’s to eat ices, strolled through tea gardens, or stood at the window of a print shop to view racks of decorative cards. It was a world far removed from Bow Street, and yet it was located only a short distance away.

The carriage conveyed them to Mayfair, the most fashionable location in London, where great family mansions were built in rows. They stopped in Berkeley Square, before a classically designed, triple-pedimented house. The large plate-glass windows gave the white stone facade a feeling of lightness and grandeur at the same time. One footman opened the carriage door and put down a movable step for Sophia. The other footman received a set of keys from Ross and dashed up the front steps.