Loving The Lost Duke (Dangerous Deceptions #1)(24)
Chapter Seven - Where the Duke Experiences Fireworks
Sophie was here somewhere. Cal had located her mother who, like most of the more mature ladies, was only lightly disguised, and wheedled a description of Sophie’s costume from her. It was obvious from her raised eyebrows and the little smile on her lips, even as she scolded him for asking, that she was pleased he was paying her daughter such marked attention.
The masquerade was becoming noisier, hotter, and was probably as crowded as it could get without people being lifted off their feet by the press of bodies. Locating one slender water nymph in all this was going to be no easy matter, even with the famous guinea-gold hair to look for.
He had almost given up on forcing his way through the mass of revellers and was turning to try the refreshment room when he caught a glimpse of sea-green draperies fluttering on the edge of the terrace. By the time he reached the same spot she had gone, only the flicker of a hem vanishing down one of the paths betraying where she had gone.
A masquerade ball was not the occasion for a stroll in the gardens, not if one was an unmarried lady. Cal set off in pursuit, telling himself it was only his duty to rescue her from whatever compromising indiscretion she had got herself into. The fact that he knew far too much about the kind of indiscretions one could commit in the dark corners of moonlit gardens only added to his sense of urgency.
Low-pitched voices, one male and gruff, one female, emphatic and recognisably Sophie’s, drifted back to him from behind a dense bank of shrubs. Cal approached, soft-footed. At least if they were talking she hadn’t fallen into the clutches of the sort of man who would take instant advantage of her innocence. He stopped and listened, the stiff leaves of the plant prickling his legs through his thin silk evening breeches.
‘For goodness sake,’ Sophie said in an unmistakeably pull yourself together tone of voice. ‘You are what? Thirty two? Stand up to him – it is about time you made your own life. He can choose to be tied up in what he sees as his duty, but I cannot for the life of me see why you should be.’
Whatever he had stumbled upon, it was not passionate love-making. The unseen man muttered something. ‘Excellent,’ Sophie said briskly. ‘So, when will the wedding be?’
Cal, who had half-turned away, froze. Not passionate loving making, indeed. No, this was practical Miss Wilmott applying her sensible approach to finding a marriage partner. Ludicrous. Someone had to stop it.
Exactly why a respectable marriage – to a well-bred, well-off, intelligent husband – needed stopping, or why, if it did, he was the one who should be doing so, Cal did not stop to ask himself. He rounded the corner as the man, a highwayman, stood up and smiled down at the water nymph. ‘I will be certain to send you an invitation.’
As he straightened Cal saw his unmasked face. Ralph. He stepped back silently into the shadow before he was seen. What in Hades was going on? His cousin would hardly be sending his own betrothed a wedding invitation, which meant that Ralph was marrying someone else and that Miss Logic herself was promoting the match. That was very fast work on Ralph’s part if he had been half-heartedly courting Sophie for weeks. Presumably love at first sight, which seemed unlikely. He waited, hoping for another crumb of information.
‘We should go back,’ his cousin urged.
‘It is so hot and so noisy. You go. I’ll sit here for a few moments longer.’
‘I should not leave you alone out here.’
‘Nonsense, you must be wanting to go home and pack ready to leave tomorrow. You are going to go to your Eva tomorrow, aren’t you?’
Even in the moonlight Ralph’s blush was visible. Good Lord, the man must be completely smitten.
‘Even so – ’
‘I am armed,’ Sophie announced in much the same way as she might have remarked that she had a fan. ‘There is a knife strapped to my thigh. Should anyone become a nuisance a prod with that will see him off.’
Dear God. The images that knife, thigh and Sophie combined conjured up had him rock hard in a second and were so distracting that Cal missed Ralph’s words of farewell. When he came round the bush again Sophie was alone, her face tipped up to the moonlight as though to bathe in its rays.
The moment he appeared she was on her feet. ‘I wish to be alone, sir. Please leave me.’
It took Cal a moment to remember that he was masked and that she could not know him. Had that boast about the knife simply been a way of reassuring Ralph that she was safe to leave or was she really armed? And, if so, why? He took one step nearer. One more and he would unmask, he had no intention of terrifying her.
‘Very well, if you insist on intruding I must show you some discouragement.’ Her hand went to her skirts and slid the fluttering silks up her right leg to the knee.
Discouragement? Cal could not have dragged his eyes away if she’d had the knife actually at his throat. He stopped dead and held up one hand in surrender. He might be all kinds of rake, but she was exposing enough flesh to ruin her if anyone came around the corner.
When Sophie released her skirts and took three steps forward so that they were two to toe it took him so much by surprise that the palm of his raised hand was a fraction from her breast. It seemed strangely reluctant to move, even when she leaned forward and peered into his masked face. Somehow, with more willpower than he knew he had, he pulled his hand back.
‘Cal,’ she stated. ‘I thought it was you. You have a most regrettable tendency to lurk about eavesdropping on my private conversations with other men.’