Mara lowered her gaze, a tiny smile on her lips, a bit of color flooding her cheeks.
Ugh.Could no one else see what Roxboro’s uncle had just done?
Sophia raised her chin a fraction to see the duke watching her. There was a tiny, almost imperceptible roll of his shoulders directed at her.
He knew what his uncle was up to.
Lord Damon snapped his fingers at Powell. “Another glass for His Grace.”
Papa didn’t flinch at Lord Damon’s audacity at ordering the staff about because given the previous conversation, it would do no good,not with Mama salivating over the possibility of CasterandLord Damon for Mara.
Sophia gaining a duke by accident barely signified.
Roxboro toyed with the glass Powell set before him, motioning for the butler to lean over. He exchanged quiet words with the butler, who nodded in agreement.
“Yes, Your Grace.” Powell faded away into the background of the dining room once more.
Roxboro tilted his chin in Sophia’s direction, pinning her in place with those unusual eyes, sculpted features composed and somewhat bland. No charming smile for her. Only what appeared to be polite disinterest.
Not exactly an auspicious start for a marriage. The only thing she and the duke agreed upon was that neither wanted to wed the other. Oh, and Lady Brokeburst’s needless meddling.
Once Sophia became a duchess, the very first thing she meant to do was give that old gossiping harpy the cut direct. The second, a demand that Sophia be sent to the country. Anywhere really, her only request was that it be far from London. Roxboro must have a distant estate somewhere, a place Sophia might build a life of her own. She’d no desire to spend her days paying calls or dangling off Roxboro’s arm at society events in town. Nor did she want to endure further speculation on how Lord Canterbell’s troublesome daughter managed to wed the stunning Duke of Roxboro, particularly when she didn’t care to be a duchess. Also, she would be out of Mama’s orbit. She could enjoy her books in peace. Roxboro couldn’t possibly object to living as far apart as possible.
The problem was, of course, begetting an heir.
Roxboro had made his feelings clear on Sophia’s desirability. A bit of a sting, but she returned them tenfold. Unfortunately, the marriage would have to be consummated at some point.
An heir must be produced. And given Roxboro might trip into theThames again or drunkenly fall off his horse, there might be more than one…bout of marital relations.
A flutter took up residence in her chest at the thought.
Mama spoke of little else but Sophia’s ‘duty’. One she’d no interest in performing.
Oh, come now, Sophia.
Traitorous thoughts. Of those beautiful features so near her own. Those elegant fingers touching Sophia in a manner that would leave her breathless. She didn’t want to think of it, tried not to find it appealing but…for goodness sakes, he resembled a statue of Apollo. Or more appropriately, Hades.
Hopefully she could…enjoy matters at least from that perspective.
Stop it, Sophia. This instant.
Sophia met Roxboro’s look, stabbing at him with one of her own.
Magnificent or not, he lacked a great deal of character. There was no shortage of tales related to his escapades, many of which she’d heard well before meeting him at Lady Perswick’s. Some were so horrifying, so wicked in nature, she couldn’t imagine they were true. That story about the sheep, for instance…
Yet, I still…went into the gardens with him.
“Your Grace.” Mara addressed Roxboro, perhaps sensing the tension hovering over the dining room table. “I understand you enjoy the opera.”
The duke’s attention flicked to Mara briefly before returning to Sophia. His fingers drew over his drink lazily, which would have any woman wishing fervently to be that glass of scotch.
Oh, for goodness sakes, Sophia.
“I like opera singers, Lady Mara,” he said slowly while continuing to study Sophia. “Italian sopranos, in particular.”
“You favor their arias?”
Sophia wanted to swat Mara. Only an idiot would fail to recognize that Roxboro was making an impolite innuendo. His comment had nothing to do with an Italian soprano’s singing ability.
