"Rapture is an apt description; it is wonderful. My late husband rarely wanted to attend the kind of performing arts which I thoroughly enjoy."
"Then I will make sure we attend every opera, ballet, and play that is on offer." He gave her a wink.
"You are incorrigible, Sin; I have not yet said yes!"
"That is correct, you have not said yes –yet."
Sophie rolled her eyes but the knowledge of his blatant want of her was secretly thrilling. She was about to respond, hoping it came out as witty as it sounded in her mind, but he spoke first.
"I want to buy the Ming bowl for you, as a gift."
Sophie was taken aback. Now she felt quite huffy and less than thrilled.
"No, thank you. I want to buy it myself,formyself."
"Might it not be very costly though, being a silent auction?"
She felt her eyebrow raise; it felt so high she pictured it almost at her hairline. The audacity!
"I assure you, I will be able to afford it."
To his credit, he looked abashed, but any apology he might have uttered was silenced by Margot and Daniel’s return.
Sophie turned around and plastered a false smile on her face till act 2 began. Once the music started and the singers commenced the dramatic but comedic brouhaha that led to Rosina's marriage, Sophie felt her emotions rise and fall with the tempo of the music. To take a word from Margot's unladylike vocabulary, Sinclair Montgomery was a complete addle pate!
Chapter Eighteen
Sin sat in the study of the Montgomery townhouse and folded the note he had just written. He toyed with writing another note, but now considered delivering the words orally. He sighed as he fingered the paper in his hands. It was eight o'clock in the morning, too early for a drink, but he needed something to numb his senses. Sin knew he had uttered the wrong words the previous evening as soon as they left his mouth. He had not meant to imply she could not afford to buy the bowl. Sophie's cold tone still echoed in his mind. His independent, saucy, clever, luscious Sophie – his Goddess. He had attempted to break down her walls so she would say yes to his proposal but instead he had added another layer to penetrate. He groaned out loud and placed his forehead on the desk. It was not being a jealous fool that ruined things, it was being a presumptuous fool.
"Why am I such a complete fool?"
"Pardon me, My Lord. I believe you called for me?"
Sin glanced up at an uncomfortable-looking Jack, who had evidently witnessed his descent into this pathetic and rueful state. He had called for him to deliver a letter to Mr Welles, to advise him that he no longer had an interest in the Ming bowl.He gave Jack the letter and instructions and went back to his brooding.
"Sinclair, what are you doing awake at this early hour?" He heard his father's voice.
"I am lamenting, Father, for I have been a fool."
He took a seat in front of Sin and smiled. "Does this involve the mysterious woman you find yourself infatuated with?"
Sin nodded. "You know, when I came home at your behest I had no interest in settling down. But before I even arrived home, I caught sight of this woman and I have fallen hard for her. Harder than I even knew was possible."
"Any woman to bring you to your knees must be quite a woman indeed. When do I get to meet her?"
"Well, that is the problem. I fear I offended her last evening, and she isn't the type for whom flowers and a sorry will do. Worse than that, I had asked her to marry and she was thinking it over. I apologise for not letting you know sooner that I had proposed to someone."
His father waved him off. "Not at all. You know I do not like to meddle. All I want for you is to be happy. That was all I wanted for your brother as well. What any good parent should want. I know I harp on about your duty to the family name and that stems from pride. We are Montgomerys! But with your brother and now with you, affairs of the heart will be your choice."
Sin felt a rush of affection for his father; he was a good man. Whenever they spoke of Andrew’s passing it helped the continuous healing that is grief.
"Anyhow, Sinclair, tell me more about this woman and let's see how you can earn back her good graces."
Returning his father's grin, he threw up his hands.
"Her name is Sophie Westcott. She is widowed and best friends with Daniel’s wife. She is clever and cultured; we share a passion for art and artefacts. Her hair is a fiery ginger that setsoff her jade green eyes. And her body is all soft, round curves. You would think she is a Greco-Roman statue. You were right; she has a fierce independence that I find very desirable."
He realised he sounded like a love-struck chit, but he didn't care.
