“Let us take a stroll about the gardens so we might speak privately. I want to know everything about you, my dove.”
Sophia nodded so hard, a curl fell from her careful coiffure. Never mind that this was all highly unusual. Roxboro and the champagne left her giddy. He was a duke. He wanted to court her. She ignored the whisper in the back of her mind, which sounded just like Mama,warning Sophia not to ever allow a gentleman liberties, especially in a dark garden. Duke or not.
Taking her arm, Roxboro led Sophia through the crowd and out the doors leading to the terrace, and beyond the gardens. The area was not deserted. A handful of other guests roamed about taking in the cooler night air. An older woman came forward who Sophia recognized instantly, Lady Brokeburst, who didn’t bother to hide her surprise.
Lady Brokeburst liked to call upon Mama and remind her that at least she possessed one daughter who would marry well.
Sophia lifted her chin.
The older woman immediately sank low, head bowed. “Your Grace,” she murmured.
Roxboro dismissed Lady Brokeburst with a flick of his wrist.
A great rush of satisfaction filled Sophia. Adukewas guiding her about. Lord Canterbell’s less admired daughter. Mara would be furious that Sophia had garnered Roxboro’s attention.
He led her down the steps and onto the garden path, gravel crunching beneath their feet until they came upon a stone bench. A drooping willow tree partially hid them from view, though Sophia could clearly make out the terrace and Lady Brokeburst. The elderly woman had her head cocked at an angle attempting to eavesdrop.
Let her hear a duke declare for me.
Roses perfumed the air. Moonlight dappled the garden, allowing Sophia to see Roxboro’s chiseled features so close to her own.
He’s going to kiss me.Her pulse beat like a drum.
“I—we—shouldn’t be out here, Your Grace.”
“Nonsense. We’ll be betrothed soon,” he whispered. “Unless you are opposed, my dove.”
Sophia shook her head, heart leaping into her throat, beating with such force, she begged it to still. This could not be happening. Roxboro couldn’t truly want her, could he? And yet, Sophia couldn’tseem to rush back to the safety of the terrace. His lovely eyes kept her pinned in place, even as he took her champagne glass and set it on the bench beside his empty wine goblet.
“Little dove,” he said, one arm circling her waist.
Roxboro’s mouth descended, claiming Sophia’s. Gentle. Searching. His hand took hold of hers, thumb brushing along the sapphires of the bracelet on her wrist. Sandalwood mixed with the wine he’d been drinking caught in her nose.
This was it. A passionate kiss. One that will set me aflame.
Patiently, Sophia waited for…the fire to engulf her. Granted, Sophia had little to no experience with gentlemen or kissing in general, but in her novels, there was a roar of passion at the mere press of the hero’s lips.
But…nothing happened.
One big hand moved to glide along the slope of her breast, tracing the shape.
Still. Nothing.
Well, this is rather disappointing.
“Sophia!” The frantic call of Lord Canterbell reached Sophia beneath the willow tree. “Who is that with you?”
Roxboro immediately released her. He took a step back from Sophia.
Angry footsteps thundered down the path. “Unhand my daughter you—” A gasp filled the air as Papa caught sight of the man behind her.
“Tell him your intentions are honorable,” she whispered. “He won’t be angry. I promise.”
A branch snapped beneath Roxboro’s foot as his large form started to disappear into the darkened depths of the garden.
“Roxboro,” she hissed, the realization dawning slowly, given the amount of champagne she’d consumed. “You promised to speak to my father about courting me.”
There was no answer. Nothing but the slight breeze and thewillow tree. Not even so much as a bloody cricket to break the awkward, embarrassing silence. The duke was… gone. If her lips weren’t still tingling from his kiss, Sophia might have thought him nothing more than a champagne induced hallucination.
