Page 52 of Netherby Halls


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She went to the window near the front door and watched him turn his phaeton and leave with a long sigh.

What did he mean? What position did he mean to have in her life? No doubt he still wanted to seduce her to his bed and make her his mistress. The sorry fact was, at that moment, she wanted him so badly she was nearly ready to settle for that—nearly, but not quite. As a plan began to formulate in her mind, she smiled to herself and hurried up the staircase.

~ Eighteen ~

THE MARQUIS STOOD frowning a moment before he pulled himself up to his seat and took up the reins. Once there, he noticed that Sassy’s yellow scarf must have fallen and gotten wedged into the seat.

He picked it up and before he could stop himself brushed it past his lips, closing his eyes with the intoxicating scent—her scent, particular to her and infused with her own brand of magic.

Placing it carefully inside the inner pocket of his greatcoat, he made the decision that he would revisit the school and Sassy soon, very soon.

Making his way back to his lodgings, his mind collected his facts, his feelings, and his sixth sense that, because of his magic, could never be denied. He put them in their proper places and knew just what he was going to do. His plan was laid out before him and gave him a moment’s pleasure—interrupted by the notion that Sassy had recognized Tom Wheeler!

Perhaps not at first, but he had seen the look of recognition come over her face. Yet, she had deliberately lied—as all females did in the end, always for their own reason.

Perhaps, perhaps ’twas because she felt she still could not trust him enough to tell him how she knew such a blackguard? She did not trust him, and this galled, because he believed she trusted Dr. Bankes, whom he despised.

He felt his heart had become dislodged from its granite walls—for her. He knew this, and he knew she was the only woman on earth for him, but he wasn’t sure he had a heart to give. Trust was something he couldn’t hand over easily. Trust was something even more important than what he felt. Could he trust her?

He was sure that first encounter in Sutton, where they shared that first hallucination, had been her magic. At one and twenty, she was no doubt going through transition; somehow her magic had connected with his and made her dream of him. But now he wanted her to want him, not just her magic. He wanted the human in her to want the human in him, just as his human wanted her beyond measure.

She was unlike any other, and he adored her, but at the moment he had another problem. He had to get to Percy and make certain his friend had not become embroiled in a situation that might hinder his carefully laid out plans! He didn’t wish to use magic any more than he had to—the damnation of it was that, while useful, it was addicting. He had always to maintain control lest it control him.

* * *

Percy was, in fact, not acting with any observable logic. Sophy’s curricle stood once again in front of his lodgings, and logic—indeed, a regard for his beloved’s reputation—should have taken him off with her posthaste, but they remained still in wild discourse with each other, heedless of all else.

“But I do … I do love you, Percy. I never meant to marry Grey—please believe me, Percy,” Sophy cried, whining and using her lovely eyes to plead with him.

“Then why did you say you would?” the stoic young man demanded.

“To … well, to stop you from killing him,” she answered unwisely.

“Why try to save him, if you didn’t care for him?”

“Oh you are a dunce!” She stomped her foot. “

Stop being so hard-hearted, you odious boy. I didn’t want you to go to prison or flee the country. That would have made me wretched. Do you want me wretched?”

He took her into his arms and said desperately, “No! No. I only want you for all time.”

She put her head against his chest and twisted the lapel of his buff-colored waistcoat. “Oh Percy, I do love you.”

“Then say you will be my wife! Say it, Sophia. Without such a promise I cannot remain here. I am flesh and blood, and my heart beats only for you, but it needs nourishment, and you—you give me nothing!”

“But, Percy, I want to give you everything,” the lady wailed.

“Then say it!”

“Yes, Percy, my love, I want to be your wife.”

“And so you shall be,” Percy said with some determination as he took her passionately into his arms and burned her hungry lips with his own.

At length she said, “oh, darling, but what will Mama say?”

“What can she say?” the gallant replied with a nervous laugh.

“A great deal I am afraid.” Sophy sighed.

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