Her heart leapt and her pulse went haywire. For a moment, she forgot how to breathe, but she swiftly remembered when spots appeared in front of her eyes.
Lord, she was such a mess.
“I don’t think I’ve heard that song before,” Nicholas said as he sauntered into the room with the type of confidence exuded by men like him.
Rakes.
Rogues.
The exact sort of man she ought to stay away from but who never failed to fascinate her.
“I made it up,” she admitted, her cheeks warming again. Silently, she cursed her pale complexion. Combined with hair that couldn’t be called anything other than red, her milky white skin showed the faintest flush, making it impossible for her to keep any of her emotions to herself.
Nicholas’s lips parted, and a rush of air escaped. “Truly?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have my utmost respect. It was beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
I wish he’d sayIwas beautiful.
She kept the shameful thought to herself.
He perched on the arm of the chaise and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Have you gotten yourself into any trouble lately?”
She folded her hands primly on her lap. “I’m a proper lady, good sir. Of course I haven’t gotten into any trouble.”
He snorted, his almost-black eyes glittering. “You couldn’t be one hundred percent proper if you tried. That’s part of why I like you so much.”
Liked—but not loved. It wasn’t a surprise, so she shouldn’t be disappointed, yet she was. Couldn’t helikeher just a little bit more?
Needing a distraction, she eyed him from head to toe. He was dressed in stylish riding clothes with tan trousers, brown boots, and a green frock coat just a little brighter than what most men would wear.
“Are you heading out?” she asked, deciding that was a safe enough question.
He tilted his head. “I’m riding with a few friends at Hensley.”
“I wish I could join you.” Hensley was a race course. Sophie would love to attend the races, but neither her mother nor her sisters had any interest, so she’d never had the opportunity to watch.
She couldn’t even imagine what her mother would say if she expressed an interest inridingon the race course. Well-bred ladies were supposed to ride demurely—sidesaddle—not gallop about like heathens.
Well-bred ladies were not supposed to do many things that Sophie would like to do.
Nicholas pulled a face that was two parts sympathy and one part amusement. “While you can’t race, there’s no reason you couldn’t take your horse into the park. The weather is lovely. It’s the perfect day to be outside. I’m sure not even the esteemed Lady Carlisle could find fault with that.”
Sophie laughed, less convinced of that than he was. It’s not that her mother was overly critical, she just had certain expectations. Sophie’s sisters had both fulfilled her mother’s expectations in some ways. Emma was quiet and ladylike, while Violet was charming and popular. Sophie was reasonably well-liked, but she was… eccentric, and there was no getting around that.
“Perhaps I shall.” Now that he’d mentioned riding, she was eager to go outdoors herself. There was nothing like the rush of wind in her face as she flew across the grassland—although she’d have to temper herself so as not to cause a scene in public.
Nicholas looked at the clock in the corner and stood again. “I hope you will. You deserve to have some fun. I’d best be off or I’ll be late.”
Sophie hid her smirk. Most likely, he was already late. Nicholas had many good qualities, but he rarely managed to be on time. “Enjoy yourself, Mr. Blackwell.”
He gave a brief bow, flashed her the wicked half grin she loved so much, and strode out.
As soon as he was gone, she deflated. All of that waiting around in the hopes of spending time with him, and he’d only lingered for a handful of minutes. Not nearly enough to satisfy her.
