Alexander had to shrug off the sudden spike of arousal. What waswrongwith him?
Lady Canterbell shot him a look of apology. “Your Grace—”
Alexander smiled. “I see Lady Sophia is impatient for our walk, my lady. I promise to return her shortly.”
Chapter Twelve
Sophia flounced outthe terrace doors, coming to a halt at the start of the path to take in the Canterbell gardens. There wasn’t a great deal to see as the area was rather small. A twisted maple at the only bend in the path. Some peonies. A burst of roses.
Her heart thumped hard in her chest, irritated that he’d forced her out here. Why couldn’t Roxboro merely bid them all good night, and she’d see him the day after next before the vicar? There was no reason to pretend, at least for her family, that they had any great liking for each other.
Strolling about in the moonlight. Of all the ridiculous ideas.
“Ah,” his footsteps sounded behind her. “Doesn’t this bring back memories, Lady Saffron?”
“Not fond ones, Roxboro.”
“I must have been excessively charming that night because I didn’t force you outside. Nor tug you along like some villain in a novel, else Lady Brokeburst would have included that in her recitation of events. Which means you went with me of your own accord. Thus, I must have enticed you, no matter how displeasing you find me now.”
Roxboro took her arm, the scent of bergamot shaving soap drifting in the air between them. A hint of brandy. Possibly scotch, after all, he’d had multiple glasses at dinner. “Remind me of our meeting at the Perswick ball.”
The sarcastic note in his low, rumbling voice was gone. There wasno anger. No annoyance.
“Unbelievable,” she scoffed, pulling away, not caring to be reminded of her stupidity yet again. Mama’s speech had been distressing. And true. “I have given you a complete accounting of the tale, more than once.”
“You had champagne. A glass or two.”
“I see you remember that much.” Sophia stiffened. “But I wasn’t foxed.” She’d been lightheaded. Dizzy with awareness of Roxboro. “The room was warm. We retired to the garden for fresh air. I received a pathetic kiss.” Lord, but this was…embarrassing.
“Continue.”
Sophia plucked absently at her skirts. Why must they repeat this exercise again?
“My father arrived on the terrace,” she threw at him, recalling her shock. Her pained disappointment that she was no better than Hortensia or any of those other pea-hens. “You had slid into the shadows, like the coward you are.”
“Had I kissed you yet?”
“Yes. When my father arrived, I called out to you because,” she pulled away from him and walked towards the maple tree. “I was shocked you would leave,” she managed to say with as little emotion as possible. “With little notice.”
Roxboro truly didn’t recall a moment of their encounter.
He trailed behind her, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I—think youimagineit was me,” he said carefully. “Enough so that when you called outRoxboro, Lord Canterbell assumed the same. Did he see me clearly or only—”
“Dear God.” Sophia threw up her hands in anger. “This again.”
“I am often intoxicated.” His brows drew together. “I do not think that is in debate. But I have never forgotten my whereabouts. Or if I attended a ball. Nor do I seek out young ladies of your ilk for obvious reasons.”
“My ilk?” Sophia crossed her arms.
“Virginal, modest, well-bred young ladies,” he replied bluntly. “You hold no interest for me, not to seduce or engage in any way. I don’t attend balls as a rule because I do not dance.”
“I imagine you dance as well as you sit a horse.” Sophia swatted away a moth.
Roxboro made a sound.
“Is there a point to this inane conversation?”
“That while drunken behavior and lechery are part of my nature, taking a young lady, such as yourself, into a dark garden without caring whether we were seen, isnothow I behave. Ever. I simply would not have done so. I wouldn’t find it appealing.”
