Except with the Baron’s smirking face right there in front of him, it was difficult to remember that.
“You haven’t wooed her into accepting a proposal either.” He feigned nonchalance. “So we shall have to see who she considers the better man.”
It was a prick to his ego. He’d have to live with those words and the knowledge that Sylvestor would consider himself superior to Nicholas when he inevitably married Sophie while Nicholas stepped aside.
“Touché.” The baron raised his glass. “To the better man.”
Nicholas drank deeply.
A couple of hours later, he retired to his chamber. He was assigned a room in a section of the guest wing with other single men and married couples. The unmarried women were farther away, presumably to protect their virtue.
When he opened his bedchamber door, he stumbled to a halt, the air rushing from his lungs.
Lady Somerset was lounging on his bed, wearing the same dress she’d been in at dinner, with the skirt hiked up to reveal shapely calves and the tops of her creamy thighs.
Once, the sight might have stirred him, but now it just made him feel ill.
Fortunately, Lord Somerset had still been in the study when Nicholas had left, so he wouldn’t have noticed her absence, but he could return to their quarters at any time and discover her missing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, shutting the door so that no one would see her in here.
She tugged her skirt higher to show another inch of her flesh. “I thought we could enjoy ourselves, since we had such fun last time.”
“Last time, I didn’t know you were married!” His chest heaved as he struggled to get his temper under control. “Not only am I uninterested, but we’re under the same roof as your husband. Are you mad?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “He won’t care.”
“That is a blatant lie. We should never have fucked in the first place. You deceived me. Now that I know the truth, I don’t want you anywhere near me. Get out of my room, and don’t even consider attempting something like this again.”
She slung her legs off the side of the bed and rose with a disdainful sniff. “Your gauche little miss won’t be able to please you like a refined woman such as I. When you change your mind, you’d better be prepared to beg.”
“Lady Sophie is worth ten of you,” he snapped, making sure to maintain a healthy distance between them as she stalked to the door. “Get out.”
He didn’t dare relax until she was through the door and he was able to lock it behind her. What on earth had made her believe she might be welcome in his private chamber?
CHAPTER 15
“Are the men hunting this morning?”Sophie asked her mother as they walked arm in arm to the breakfast room on their first morning at Nunhaven.
“According to the itinerary, the hunting is scheduled for tomorrow,” Lady Carlisle replied, turning the corner and guiding Sophie into the room. “We are to play croquet today.”
Sophie inhaled the combined scents of egg, sausage, and fresh bread. She’d eaten well last night but was surprisingly hungry. The travel must have exhausted her more than she’d thought.
A dozen or so small round tables filled the room, and the food was laid on platters on sideboards. Neither Nicholas nor Baron Sylvestor were present, so Sophie relaxed and served herself toast with jam and an egg on the side.
Lady Carlisle led her to the table where Lady Wembley was already seated, her breakfast finished and a half-drunk cup of tea to her right. Sophie spread jam on her toast and had just picked it up when Lady Wembley addressed her.
“I understand you’re looking to secure a husband this season, Lady Sophie,” she said, her head cocked in question.
“I am,” Sophie confirmed.
“It was a strange choice for you to leave during the season, then.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “Unless your prospective suitors are among our guests.”
“It’s a strange time for a house party at all,” Sophie replied, neither confirming nor denying the astute observation. She bit into the toast and relished the sweetness of the jam.
Lady Wembley gave a delicate shrug. “It has already grown much warmer over the past month. I think it was only sensible of me to make plans that will allow my guests to enjoy the outdoors without getting burned and parched during the heart of a drought. My only regret is that my husband cannot remain for the duration of the party.”
“I’m sure many of the gentlemen will have to leave at some point,” Lady Carlisle said, sending Sophie a look intended to remind her that she needed to act quickly before Baron Sylvestor was called back to attend to his duties in the House of Lords.
