Never Courted, Suddenly Wed (Scandalous Seasons #2)(55)

“I thought you didn’t like me,” she blurted.

His mouth froze a hairsbreadth away from her bow-shaped lips. He pulled away. That had been true at one time. Everything had since changed.

“Christopher?”

“Of course I like you, Phi.” He sat back and rested his head along the back of the ivory striped sofa.

“You haven’t spoken to me in years.”

“That’s not true.”

She pinched his arm. “I’ve already said hello and good-bye do not count, Christopher.”

Christopher draped a hand over his eyes as he weighed just how much to reveal to Sophie. For the easy camaraderie that had developed between them in the past weeks, the prospect of humbling himself at her feet, of acknowledging his greatest failings dug at his insides. What woman, especially one of Sophie’s intellect, could respect a man who struggled to read?

His throat moved reflexively.

Her brow wrinkled. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” he said, his word garbled to his own ears. “Sophie, we were both awful to each other over the years. We had a way of knowing each other’s greatest weakness and using that to hurt one another.” That was as close as he preferred to get without acknowledging the whole truth.

“Very horrid of us.”

He felt the first real stirrings of amusement that night. His lips twitched. “Yes. It was.”

“We’re no longer children, though,” she said and her husky alto better suited to kisses and forbidden whispers reminded him of all the wicked things he wanted to do with her.

Christopher lowered his head. Her breath, fanned his lips…

“You courted Emmaline.”

Only Sophie could douse his ardor as quick as she’d enflamed his senses. He quirked a brow. “Do you really care to discuss my courtship of Emmaline again?”

Her wide, unblinking blue eyes indicated that she very well did. Christopher would never fully understand a woman’s mind. There was nothing less Christopher wanted to consider than Sophie with another man. Yet, in this moment, instead of allowing him to kiss her senseless, Sophie preferred to discuss his courtship of her dearest friend.

He sighed. “I already told you, Phi. I’ve known Mallen since we were children.”

“You’ve known Geoffrey since you were children.”

“And?”

“Is that why you’ve been courting me?”

Christopher realized with a dawning awareness that for all the time they’d spent together these past weeks, Sophie still mistrusted his motives. His sweet, prudent Sophie. She had the good sense to be cautious of him.

It felt like he were one slip away from saying the absolute wrong thing. He picked his way carefully around his next words. “Sophie, I like being with you. That is why I’m courting you.” The lies between them reared their ugly head but Christopher tamped them down. Originally his interest in Sophie may have been born of his father’s ultimatum, but somewhere along the way, all that had changed.

“Christopher?”

A long breath of air escaped him. “Yes, Phi?”

“Is it wrong that I want you to kiss me?”

He groaned. “You need to go,” he pleaded.

Fire lit her eyes. “No.”

His mouth closed over hers…

A startled gasp cut through the stillness of the room.

“Oh my goodness! Miss Winters!”

Christopher looked to the doorway and his stomach clenched.

Bloody hell.





Lady Ackerly’s Tattle Sheet





Though not of particular note, Miss S.W. was seen at the Bartholomew Fair. What is of particular note was the manner in which the young lady rescued the dog used in the bear-dancing routine. Also noteworthy was the manner in which Miss S.W. ran from the fairgrounds with the dog in her arms.


16

Sophie tumbled from atop the perch of soft contentment she rested, and careened back down to earth.

Her gaze flew to the doorway where a bevy of spectators stood, witness to her social demise. And there at the center of the macabre scene were her mother and brother.

When Sophie had been a girl of five, her brother Geoffrey had tossed her into the lake upon their family’s country estate. She’d sunk beneath the dark, icy surface. Water had filled her throat and lungs until she’d been consumed by a cloying helplessness.

This moment was not remarkably unlike that horrific day from long ago.

Sophie’s stomach churned and in a paltry attempt to blot out the shame and fury radiating from her mother and brother’s eyes, she buried her face within the crook of Christopher’s shoulder. Her efforts were for naught. Until she was gone from this earth, she would forever feel that keen sense of disappointment; greater than all other moments in her past.

“Waxham.” Her brother’s voice fairly dripped rage. “Remove your hand from my sister’s person this instant.”

Sophie’s eyes fell to the Aubusson carpet. She wanted to pull back the red trim border of the fabric and tug it over her head. She’d counted no fewer than five people alongside her mother and brother.

As if a warrior of old defending his lady, Christopher stood and placed himself between Sophie and Lady Brackenridge’s guests.

It did little, however, to shield Sophie from Lady Brackenridge. The thin, wrinkled older woman stepped into the room, clapping her hands. “Now, now. We’ve seen enough here.” The victorious glint in her eyes was the response of a woman who knew she’d stumbled upon the latest on dit.