Never Courted, Suddenly Wed (Scandalous Seasons #2)(46)

His eyes slid momentarily closed. “No wonder you find yourself in Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet,” he muttered.

Sophie took one, two, three steps until less than a hairsbreadth separated them. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said…”

“I heard you,” she snapped.

“Then why did you say…”

“Because I’m trying to convey suitable outrage.” Sophie’s chest heaved up and down with the extent of her upset.

He stared transfixed, unable to remove his gaze from the sight of the plump white mounds of her décolletage.

Sophie tugged his jacket closed, a pink, becoming blush stained her heart-shaped cheeks. “Did you hear what I said, Chris…my lord?”

He yanked his gaze away. “No.”

Mallen folded his arms across his chest. “The young lady was wisely pointing out that you are in fact causing undue attention.”

Christopher looked around and for the first time noted the gentlemen who’d halted their mounts and now gawked like they’d come upon a riveting stage performance right there on St. James Street.

He took Sophie gently, but firmly by the arm. “Come along.”

“Christopher,” she hissed. “Whatever are you doing?” Sophie dug her heels in with the same contrary stubbornness she’d demonstrated as a baby sinking her teeth into the tender flesh of his palms.

“I’m escorting you home,” he growled and tried to urge her forward.

Sophie remained rooted to the ground. It would appear the only way he’d get her out of this blasted park was if he tossed her over his shoulder.

As though she’d followed the primitive direction his thoughts had taken, her eyes narrowed. “Do not even think of it, Christopher.”

“Your brother will thank me.” He squeezed the words out past tight lips.

“He most certainly will not.” She nodded none too discreetly toward Mallen, who stood off to the side, arms folded across his chest. He studied Christopher and Sophie with thinly veiled interest.

Christopher’s eyes lingered a moment on Mallen and his gut clenched. Based on Sophie’s words, it would seem Christopher’s scheme was going to plan. He expected to feel relief that Redbrooke had turned his marital aspirations for Sophie on the duke.

Instead, Sophie’s subtle reminder of the viscount’s intentions to wed her off to Mallen burned like alcohol thrown on an open wound. His gut churned.

“Christopher?” Her hesitant question called him back to the moment. “Are you all right?”

His breathing grew rapid as he confronted the shattering realization that he didn’t want Mallen to court her. He didn’t want anyone to court her.

Christopher dropped her hand as if burned. He took a hasty step backwards. What is this? It defied logic. This was Sophie Winters. The bane of his childhood existence. The hoyden who’d tormented him when he’d been a boy. The girl he’d blamed for the fire in his father’s stables.

And God help him, if he didn’t want her. “Nothing is the matter,” he said at long last, his voice hoarse to his own ears.

Everything is the matter.

When had this happened? Just then, it occurred to Christopher that he’d not given thought to the mystery Athena from Lord Thomas’s library since Sophie had re-entered his life.

He extended his arm. “We’re leaving.”

“I’ll see her home,” Mallen interjected, his jaw set at a stony angle.

The hell you will.

***

Sophie’s gaze moved between the two gentlemen. Her brother had once said that there was a greater likelihood of horses flying than her being courted by the Duke of Mallen.

She peeked at the sky. Hmm. No horses there. It did, however appear that the duke’s intentions were serious where she was concerned.

And…

She looked at Christopher. The firm set to his square jaw, and the muscle that ticked at the corner of his eye indicated Christopher’s annoyance.

Her heart flipped painfully in her breast. Christopher didn’t believe she was good enough for the duke. In fact, the very proper earl would rather create a scene then leave her alone with the Duke of Mallen. After years of Christopher’s aloofness, Sophie had thought herself accustomed to his disdain. The pain that knifed through her proved how very wrong she was. Her toes curled inside her sopping wet slippers. She’d never before resented him the way she did now.

Mallen’s gaze caught and held hers for a moment. He frowned, returning his attention to Christopher. “I escorted the lady here. It is only appropriate I see her home.”

Christopher’s hazel eyes snapped fire. “I’ve known the lady’s family for some time. I imagine they’d prefer I help her from this latest scrape she’s gotten herself into.”

Oh, the lout.

She dipped the tip of her wet silk slipper, beyond all hope of repair into a patch of mud and flicked it in his direction.

Thwack!

The thick, soppy dirt landed on the front of his fawn-colored breeches. It proceeded to drip a thin, muddy trail down his legs, and onto his boots.

Christopher jerked as though she’d fired a pistol at his chest and not merely a small bit of dirt onto his once immaculate attire.

“Uh-my foot slipped,” she said, when his gaze narrowed on her.