Never Courted, Suddenly Wed (Scandalous Seasons #2)(23)



Sophie gave a curt nod. “My sentiments exactly. I didn’t know any bird had teeth.”

Christopher reached within the front of his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. He wiped the thin streak of blood. “Who knew?” As he wrapped the cloth around her wound, he studied her long fingers, transfixed. God, if she didn’t possess the kind of fingers a man dreamed of; wrapped around…

He dropped her hand.

“Are you going to help me fetch him?” Sophie asked, chewing at her lower lip, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil raging through him.

The alternative was to stand there and dream up all manner of improper things about Sophie Winters. He rushed into the fray and bent down to scoop up Duke. The goose apparently took issue with his intervention and rushed at Christopher, pecking at his boots. The pug squirmed, eager to continue its battle.

Then, the miserable little cur sank its sharp teeth into Christopher’s hand.

He winced, and held the dog out to Sophie.

Her eyes lit like he’d bestowed upon her the finest jewels and not this yapping, snorting excuse of a dog.

She hugged him. Duke calmed, resting in his mistress’ arms.

Christopher’s gaze fell to the generous mounds of pale, white flesh that teased the décolletage of her pink, muslin gown. If he’d had his head resting upon her breasts, Christopher would find himself quite contented, as well.

A strangled sound worked its way up his throat.

Sophie looked up at him with a question in her eyes.

“Fine,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Then, Sophie Winters, the girl who’d tortured him for all his earlier years, who’d frowned, snapped, and tormented him, did the most unexpected thing…she smiled.

Christopher grinned back. “Well, I’d imagine Lady Ackerly will have something rather positive to write about this time,” he teased.

Sophie shook her head with mock solemnity. “Oh, no. She’d never do something so contrary as to write something positive. Mustn’t do something like that. It would ruin the lady’s reputation.”

“Is it a lady?”

She started. “Hmm. I just assumed that it was.”

He looked around at the empty park. “Do you always walk at this ungodly hour?”

Sophie’s shoulders moved up and down in a little shrug. “I find I like the privacy of my own company. There is less for Lady Ackerly to write about at this time,” she mumbled from under her breath.

At her words, it seemed to occur to the both of them that they were standing at the edge of the lake, in public for anyone to see, with no chaperone.

Sophie trailed the tip of her slipper in the gravel. “I should be going.”

Oddly, he had this desire for her to stay. Instead, he said, “Yes. You should.” He looked around. “Where is your maid?”

As if on cue the woman came hurtling from around the corner, her chest heaving up and down from her efforts.

“She couldn’t keep up,” Sophie whispered.

He bit back a grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled this much.

“Miss Winters!” the woman gasped. “There you are. You mustn’t…” her words died at the sight of Christopher. She clamped her lips shut and dropped her gaze to the ground.

Duke wriggled in Sophie’s arms until she was forced to set him down. The pug darted over to the pinch-mouthed maid, and barked wildly at the young woman. “Mother managed to find me the least fun maid in the entire kingdom,” Sophie said, out of the corner of her mouth.

Christopher laughed, and she joined him. They shared a look.

Sophie trailed her tongue along the seam of her lips. “Thank you for helping with Duke. I should be going.”

“Yes, you said that.”

Sophie curtsied, and walked several paces. Then, all of a sudden, she spun back around. “Christopher?”

He inclined his head. “Yes, Phi?”

“Last evening, you spoke of Whitmore. You said I didn’t know all the details surrounding the game of cards that resulted in your acquisition of his stables.”

“Is there a question there?” he asked, gently.

“You know there is. What happened between you and Whitmore?” She let out a little sigh. “Very well, then,” she said, when he didn’t reply. Sophie turned on her heel.

“Phi?” he called out.

Sophie turned around so quickly, she stumbled. She threw her arms wide to maintain her balance.

“I learned Whitmore was abusing his horses.” His mouth tightened when he thought about the undernourished, chestnut thoroughbred he’d acquired from Whitmore. The poor creature had been whipped so many times it bore the scars upon its sunken flanks. Christopher had named the horse Survivor, and had taken it upon himself to care for it. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to discuss the details.”

Her eyes filled with sadness. “The poor dears.” She scuffed the tip of her slipper along the ground. “Christopher, forgive me. I should not have passed judgment.”

They continued to stare at each other, neither speaking.

Duke pawed at Sophie’s skirts. She bent down and scooped him up, yet again. “Uh…I…thank you for your help with Duke.” She curtsied, and then rushed off.

Her maid fell into step alongside her.

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