towards the china-dog table, which the butler moved without saying a word, and the background of a busy At Home recommenced.
‘I shan’t beat about the bush,’ Lady Parthenope said after she had greeted her stepmother. ‘Is it true you intend to give a party to celebrate your engagement to my nephew? I would have thought informing a family circle would be the first order of business before you announced to all and sundry, but what do I know about young people these days? The manners are all so different from when I was young after the war. Then things were done in a certain fashion or not at all.’
‘It is something you will need to consult with your nephew about—why he asked before getting your permission to marry,’ Sophie replied and was pleased the words came out far more assured than she felt inside. ‘I would hardly like to break a confidence. You must understand that, Lady Parthenope, and these matters, much as we hope otherwise, are often fraught with inner peril. My stepmother is perhaps over-eager with the plans for a party, but they are far from well advanced.’
‘Humph,’ Lady Parthenope said with a glacial frown. She turned and began to greet the other women, asking after various relations or mutual acquaintances.
Sophie noted with no small amount of admiration that the woman appeared to know how to greet everyone graciously. She had to wonder if Lady Parthenope had always been like this or if she had ever hidden behind a curtain. No, she decided, Lady Parthenope belonged to that special breed of woman who was always sure in any social situation.
‘I see you wasted no time, Aunt, in making your acquaintance with my intended’s family,’ Lord Bingfield said as he came into the room. His frock-coat was immaculate and he seemed to fill the drawing room. She noticed the way his hair curled about his temple and how the cut of his coat showed off his hips. Their eyes locked and a slow smile spread over his face.
Realising she was staring, Sophie hurriedly set down her teacup, managing to slosh the liquid on to her hand. Painfully obvious. The sudden heat jolted her back to reality. She winced, knowing her cheeks must be flushed. She was behaving worse than some débutante who was only a few weeks into her first Season. She was a veteran of four and knew better than to respond to men like Lord Bingfield. She had made so many mistakes in their short acquaintance.
‘Someone had to, dear boy. Your father is hardly likely to travel to the north. And the less said about your mother’s side of the family, the better, in my opinion,’ Lady Parthenope pronounced.
‘Finally you appear, Lord Bingfield. Sophie has been counting the minutes,’ her stepmother cooed, much to Sophie’s surprise and annoyance.
Her stepmother made it sound as though she had nothing better to do than to moon over him. Things were problematic enough with Lord Bingfield getting ideas about how she might feel about him. Her stepmother’s triumphant look did nothing to calm Sophie’s nerves.
‘My pleasure, Mrs Ravel.’ He bowed low over her stepmother’s hand. ‘I regret the slight delay, but what does that matter as I am here now? I am at your disposal, Mrs Ravel. Who would you like me to meet first? Your friends all appear charming and I don’t want to get the order of precedence wrong.’
His smile spread over the entire gathering. Her normally poised stepmother turned a shade of red, highly akin to beetroot, while a gaggle of her stepmother’s friends gave barely concealed sighs. His voice was the sort that warmed your toes, oozing superficial charm.
Sophie frowned and concentrated on the alabaster vase containing a bouquet of wax flowers. She’d be wrong to forget that it was superficial, pretty to look at but having no real substances, and the fact that this was all an act. She knew precisely what happened when the charm faded and the rake in question was turned down.
Her temple throbbed slightly. She refused to go back to that inn. She had ceased to be that carefree girl years ago. Real and honest love took months, if not years, to develop and he had been quite honest about not having finer feelings for her. She was not going to believe in the romance of it all. She had to be the practical one and search for other opportunities to sow seeds of doubt, so that when the end came, it would not cause her stepmother to take to her bed for weeks.
Richard accepted a cup of tea from her stepmother and came over to her. Her nerves pulsed with warmth. She found it impossible to forget the way his mouth had tasted when he’d kissed her last night.
She concentrated on the spill and tried to think of something else beside him and the way his shoulders filled out his frock-coat.
‘Do you need a handkerchief, Miss Ravel?’
His heady scent of balsam mixed with a subtle spice wafted over her, tickling her nose. And she inhaled deeply, savouring it, but then recollected where she was, sat up straighter and fixed him with her eye.
‘Everything is under control. I knocked the cup a little. I am fully capable of cleaning up my own messes.’
‘I would hate to think anything untoward happened to your delicate flesh.’ He came over and took her hand. His brow furrowed as his palm brushed her ring finger before releasing it. A subtle caress. ‘You are wearing the ring.’
Sophie fought against the temptation to flee. He knew precisely what he was doing. He had played this sort of double entendre game with countless other females. It would be wrong of her to think otherwise. ‘I felt it best. Everyone wanted to see it. Even if it is tempting fate to wear it.’
‘Fate?’ A dimple played in the corner of his mouth, reminding her that her dreams had been full of that mouth and the way it tasted.
‘Nothing has been settled until certain agreements have been reached,’ she said decisively, banishing the thought.
He raised her hand to his lips. The tiniest touch, but enough to make her stomach flutter and the heat rise on her cheeks. She tried to tell herself that every woman had that sort of reaction to him, but it didn’t make it any easier.
‘It will be settled to our mutual benefit,’ he said, releasing her hand. ‘You have my word on that. From now on wear it with pride and stop worrying.’
The room chose that moment to fall silent. Sophie winced and knew the colour in her cheeks flamed higher.
‘You see, Sophie,’ her stepmother crowed. ‘What did I say! Settlements can be easily achieved when a couple is in love.’
‘I apologise.’ Sophie gestured about the room. ‘It was quite unnecessary of you to call.’
‘We must disagree. It was completely necessary. I gave my word.’ He inclined his head. ‘If you would manipulate public opinion, Miss Ravel, the public do have to have something to talk about. It is far better that they discuss our engagement, rather than anything else about either of us.’
‘You make it sound like you are an expert.’
His eyes glinted like hard glass. ‘I had to learn. You were the one who increased the stakes.’
‘I will remember it for the next time and bow to your expertise.’
‘You may run along, then,’ he said, touching her sleeve. ‘I still have to greet a variety of other ladies, but my duties here must be short.’
‘And do what?’ Sophie put her hand on her hip. How dare he order her about! ‘The At Home is in its dying throes. I suspect once this lot have finished, we will not get any more callers.
