Tags:
Regency,
London,
Lord,
regency england,
scandal,
lord will,
season,
flirtation,
sophie,
secret passion,
passionate endeavor
marble
statue she had seen in the foyer at one of the grander London
townhouse balls she had attended. A fig leaf, no, two fig leaves
would not have been large enough to cover… Her breath finally
seemed to desert her in one long exhale.
He had turned to notice her and a slow smile
had spread across his face, revealing the wicked dimples. He had
thrown back his head and laughed.
Sophie was about to flee, despite her
uncertainty of the correct path back to the main hall, when she
heard from behind her a deep baritone voice laced with the
slightest hint of a French accent.
" Chérie , this is delightful. Do come
back. I was just thinking about you," Lord William called out,
chuckling. "Although I did not think my wishes would be granted so
quickly."
Sophie turned to see Lord William standing in
the hallway only slightly more decent. He had donned a white lawn
shirt, which just covered his obvious masculinity. Sophie found she
could not draw her eyes away from his chest, as the fabric was
rendered invisible in some places from his still wet body.
She swallowed. "Excuse me. I—I'm sorry to
have intruded," Sophie said, averting her eyes finally. "I was told
your tailor was here. I must leave."
She turned and began to retrace her steps
toward the main stair but his words stilled her steps.
" Chérie , come back or I'll be forced
to come after you in this, ah, state of undress."
He wouldn't dare. She lifted her chin in
defiance.
His eyes twinkled and he walked toward her.
"My tailor is waiting for you. He just stepped away for a moment
while I finished my bath," he replied, making a motion with his
arms to urge her to precede him back to the room. "You may come in
now."
"I think not. I'll return to the lower salon
until your tailor will see to my needs." Her gaze remained glued to
the carpet.
"Are you afraid?" he asked, tugging on a blue
dressing gown she just now noticed he had carried over his arm. His
dark eyes dipped to her line of vision. "I promise you I'm modest
now, even by England's more repressive standards."
Sophie sighed. She was not at all sure she
would be able to find her way back without getting lost. "And where
is Mr. Farquhar?"
"Gone to prepare the rest of my morning
toilette," Lord William said, releasing her hand to rub his fingers
over his morning shadow of whiskers.
"I'm sure he has," Sophie said under her
breath.
"What did you say, chérie ?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Oh, this is very
awkward."
"It doesn't have to be," he said, winking.
"Come now, we can't have you standing about in the hallway. Do come
in. I promise not to bite." Lord William took her hand gently and
encouraged her back down the hallway and over the threshold,
keeping the glimmer in his dark eyes.
"I'm not intimidated by you, Lord William. I
assure you I am not."
"All the better. I've never been able to
tolerate shrinking violets."
"There's no reason for me to fear you, given
your inclinations."
He looked as if he would burst out laughing.
Instead he smothered a smile and attempted a poor imitation of
contriteness. "Then we understand each other, chérie . It
will make it so much less tiresome if I do not have to explain
everything to you."
He raked his longish wet hair back from his
face, oozing charm from every pore. "We are agreed then that I'm a
perfectly harmless gentleman. I'm also a generous man, and as such,
I invite you to go first. The tailor is just through the passage in
the adjoining chamber." He cupped her chin in his hand. "I may be
depraved, chérie , but I will not let it be said that I'm not
considerate of a lady's sensibilities."
"Please stop calling me that. I'm not your chérie ."
He took one step closer to her.
" Non ?"
" Non !" And before she could stop
herself, she blurted out, "I know your game."
"Really? Pray tell, what is it?"
She did not have the nerve to tell him her
thoughts concerning Mr. Farquhar, especially when his handsome
frame towered over her and his eyes glowed with
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