Ha!
Saw her walking.
Laughable.
Sophia had been so enamored of his attention. So enthralled with his presence, she’d failed to note that not only did he not refer to her father by name, but Roxboro never once saidhername. This feckless sot with his head lolling about before her thought she was called Saffron. Or Susan.
Considering him now, Sophia questioned her sanity, if not her intelligence, at being so taken with Roxboro.
But the one thing Sophia was absolutely certain, besides the previously mentioned stupidity, was that ithadbeen Roxboro last night. The duke was blindingly handsome in a way few other men could claim. Completely unfair given his character. And no other man in London possessed those shimmering green eyes with their streaks of silver. Sophia recalled every inch of Roxboro’s appearance that night, right down to the wine stain on his coat and the sandalwood on his skin. Lady Brokeburst hadcurtsiedto him. Other guests bowed when he passed and softly whispered, “Your Grace.”
Vile cad.
A bit of flirtation was acceptable. Even a kiss wasn’t entirely improper. Mara had kisses stolen all the time. But Roxboro leading Sophia to believe he admired and wished to court her was nothing short of cruelty. He was just another jaded rake using a stupid young girl for his own amusement, only this time, he’d been caught.
Filthy libertine.
“I swear, upon my honor—”
Sophia snorted in derision. Roxboro had no honor. Papa would insist on marriage, despite her protests. She had no desire to be wed to this…this…sot.
“I have never seen you before.” Scorn flashed in those beautiful eyes. Eyes that had looked at her with such longing in the moonlight of the Perswick gardens. Whispered such lovely things in her ear. And Sophia had felt…desired. Wanted. For the first time in her life.
Now, all she felt was mortification.
Everyone in London was already whispering that the Duke of Roxboro had been so foxed, so completely intoxicated, he’d unintentionally compromised Lord Canterbell’s daughter. And not the pretty one.
If I could vanish this instant, I would.
Sophia took a step towards him, the brandy fumes tickling her nostrils, thinking how Papa had grabbed Sophia’s hand, pulling her through the crowd at Lady Perswick’s even as dozens of eyes turned in her direction.
Good lord, but Lady Brokeburst worked quickly.
Mama, leading Mara, had appeared, her rounded features contorted into panic. “My lord,” she’d whispered. “There is a rumor circulating.”
“Hortensia.” Mara gulped. “She said…well, it cannot be true.”
Papa dragged them all, especially Sophia, in his wake. “We must leave. Now. Do not say a word until we are inside the carriage.”
Mama’s eyes had filled with tears. “Oh, no.”
Mara had regarded Sophia with disbelief. “Sophia?”
“Hurry,” Papa had said, ushering them all out. “Lady Brokeburst is a bigger gossip than I suspected. I had hoped for a modicum of discretion given I am friends with her husband. I regret to say I’m disappointed.”
The escape from the Perswick ball had been filled with Mama’s torrential weeping. Mara just stared at Sophia in shock; likely put out she hadn’t been ruined by a drunken duke.
Lord Damon cleared his throat, dispelling the events of the previous night from Sophia’s thoughts and bringing her back to this overly lavish drawing room full of gilt and finely carved furniture. There wasa hideous collection of porcelain dogs on one table and a portrait of a gentleman who vaguely resembled Roxboro above the fireplace. A relative, she assumed.
“You will address the duke politely or not at all, Lady Sophia.” Lord Damon regarded her with the sort of contempt one reserves for a lesion-covered beggar in the street.
“I choose not at all,” she whispered under her breath, which thankfully, no one seemed to hear.
Papa cleared his throat. He had excellent hearing.
“Lady Brokeburst,” Papa started. “Has already spread the word. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t mentioned the incident to enough of the other guests that an item will appear in the gossip column of the newspaper.”
Sophia looked down at Roxboro’s finely crafted Oriental rug beneath her feet, wishing to disappear into the swirls of blue and gold.
