He stared up at her, then couldn’t help but laugh himself. “A fitting tribute to today. Would you not agree?”
“As long as you are not injured.” She pushed the low table bearing their refreshments out of the way and moved closer, reaching down to assist him. “Here. Let me help you. Who knows how many splinters are waiting to impale you?”
“Thank you, my lady, but I can manage. I do not wish to pull you down on top of me.” Well, he did, but he was now quite convinced that he had a great deal of reparation to do before that delight would be his. Gingerly, he shoved himself up from the mess, then stared back down at it. “I apologize for destroying your sofa. Apparently, I am more solid than I realized.”
“Do not apologize.” She wrinkled her nose at the ruined settee. “I never liked that horrid thing. It was a gift from one of Maman’s admirers from King Louis’s court. She had it placed in here because it reminded her of that odious little man who always reeked of soured wine, pungent garlic, and rotted onions.”
Nash tried to be inconspicuous and take a sniff of his own scent to ensure the lady would not find him just as offensive as the malodorous Frenchman. He smelled of leather, perhaps a bit of wet horse, and then, thankfully, the clean citrus and sandalwood of the soaps and oils he had used this morning. He nudged the toe of his boot against the broken leg of the sofa and offered her a smile. “I assume your mother rebuffed the man gently, since he was one of King Louis’s courtiers?”
Sophie pursed the supple bow of her tempting mouth into a thoughtful grimace. “I believe she convinced the king to have the man executed, but I am uncertain about that.” Her grimace became a proud smile as she tipped a nod at the ruined bit of furniture. “Never underestimate or anger Maman.”
“Duly noted.” He studied her for a long moment, realizing this was the first time the two of them had managed a conversation that was neither stilted nor filled with animosity. “This is nice, my lady.”
Her reddish-blonde brows drew closer, turning her expression into a lovely furrow of confusion. He rather liked that look on her. It somehow made her endearingly quizzical, like a kitten trying to decide whether to pounce. “I have confused you,” he said.
She twitched the slightest shrug. “I must admit, you have. What are you referring to asnice?”
“Us.” He motioned at the two of them. “At this particular moment. Talking to each other without it becoming a battle.”
“Oh.” She stared at him. The uncomfortable tension returned to the set of her shoulders, and her chin shot back to its defiant angle.
Damn and blast it all. He had ruined the moment by drawing attention to it. He could be such a fool at times. “I am sorry, Lady Sophie.”
Leeriness darkened the velvety brown richness of her eyes. “And for what are you apologizing, might I ask? I already told you that piece of furniture would not be missed.”
“I am apologizing for everything. For the way I hurt you in the past with my boyish stupidity. For unintentionally usurping the world you and your mother created and cared for since your birth. I am not sorry for kissing you, but I should not have done it without your permission, and I swear I shall never do so again. Kiss you without your permission, that is. I would very much like to kiss you again as much as you will allow me to.” The way she caught her hand to her throat made him ache to reach out and take her into his arms, but he didn’t.
“I am not so certain I can trust you,” she said so softly it was as though she spoke more to herself than him. “You broke my heart all those years ago—without even trying. Or caring that you did so, for that matter.”
“You were the daughter of my mentor, and please do not take offense when I say that at the time you still seemed to be a child. At least, to me you did. I saw you as a mere slip of a girl not yet old enough for a man’s attentions. I respected you and your mother too much to insult either of you with what I felt would be unseemly behavior toward you.”
She stared down at the floor, slowly shaking her head. “I was a horridly late bloomer. Maman used to try to console me by saying she had been the very same.” She lifted her head to settle a narrow-eyed gaze upon him. “But you were still insufferably mean. Teasing me. Calling me names whenever I bested you in training.”
“You irritated the bloody hell out of me,” he said before thinking better of it. “How was I expected to act when a mere child made me look like an incompetent fool in front of my peers?”
“I suppose that would be rather uncomfortable.” The leeriness in her eyes turned to mischievous pride. “But as the older of us, and a gentleman, you should have been more mature. Handled the situation better.”
“Yes, well… I should have done a lot of things differently in my past.” He resettled his stance, bracing himself. “That is why I apologized. Do you accept it, my lady, and can we move forward and leave the past behind us where it belongs?”
She studied him while working her clasped hands together, as though kneading a tiny ball of dough between her palms. Eight loud, distinctive pops sounded off as she flexed each of her fingers at the knuckles. She wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. Terrible habit I have whenever I am thinking.”
An amused snort escaped him. “That is not verycountess-likebehavior.”
She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Maman.”
“You are avoiding giving me an answer, my lady. Do you accept my apology?” He eased closer, close enough to breathe in her delectable scent of jasmine, and this time, not a furious woman but one who was even more delicious and desirable.
She narrowed her eyes again, but her expression held no animosity. “I accept your apology. At least for now. We shall see if I can learn to trust you.”
“I hope you can. I much prefer us to be friends rather than enemies.”
“Friends,” she repeated.
Was that disappointment in her tone, or was he imagining it? Had he erred and said the wrong thing again? He took her hand, praying he wasn’t botching this as well. “Friends at first. And with any luck, and some time spent together, maybe more.”
She allowed her hand to remain in his for a moment longer, then gently slid it out of his grasp. “We shall see.”
“I understand you planned to retire for the evening and dine here in your rooms, but might you consider dining with me instead?” He felt compelled to nurture this tenuous bond they had formed. He wished to strengthen it.
