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Hearing Hendricks’s slow heavy footsteps, she realized she would be denying callers all day again.
“Ma’am, Lord Ancroft is here to see you,” he announced.
Sophie chewed her lower lip. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the opera. While she missed him dreadfully, she’d spent the time pondering what to do about him. Already, he was coming to mean more to her than he should. And that scared her.
“Ma’am? Lord Ancroft?”
“Yes, send him in.”
As Hendricks ambled down the hall, she wondered if this was the right decision. Her emotions were muddling her mind lately. But one thing she knew, she wasn’t ready to give him up yet. Just the sound of his footsteps increased the beat of her heart.
He walked in and observed the flowers in the room. “Just how many damned arrangements have you been sent?”
She smiled slightly hearing the jealous tone of his voice. “I’m now up to seven. Unless you brought a bouquet with you, then it’s eight.”
His cheeks flushed. “I am sorry to say I did not bring you flowers this afternoon. Although, if I had, I doubt you would be able to even find them.”
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said with a laugh. “You have nothing to be jealous over. I know exactly why they are attempting to court me.”
“Do you?” he said, with his hands on his hips.
She walked toward him with a grin. “Yes, I do.” She stepped closer until they were all but touching. “I have no desire to be any man’s mistress. They are wasting their time and money attempting to get into my good graces.”
“So,” he drawled. “How does a man get into your good graces?”
“Hmm,” she said, skimming her finger down his waistcoat. “First, by not sending me roses because they make me sneeze.”
“Well, that is one point in my favor. I have never sent you roses. Any other ideas?”
She unbuttoned his waistcoat. “Not writing me romantic poems. They are usually most dreadfully written.”
“I shall never endeavor to do such a thing.”
“Good.” She looked into his amber eyes and didn’t care about her appointments for today. The only thing that mattered was Nicholas.
“Any other thoughts?”
She smiled up at him. “Knowing when to kiss me.”
He returned her smile. “I think I already have managed to figure that out.” He pulled her into his arms and brought his lips down hard on hers.
The man was definitely starting to know her too well, Sophie thought.
Chapter 8
Nicholas walked up the steps to his father’s home in Grosvenor Square with dread. The only time his father requested his presence was to call him on the carpet for some inappropriate action. Nicholas smiled, remembering the last time involved an actress who thought a night with him meant marriage. She had made a terrible scene and his father had paid the girl off. Nicholas could have done the same but thought she deserved nothing for her tasteless demeanor.
He hoped this had nothing to do with Sophie. While she wasn’t his mistress in the most technical meaning of the word, she was his lover. His father might not care for his son taking a woman who professed to be the daughter of an earl.
Then again, Nicholas didn’t care. His father had never loved him. His only concern was how Nicholas acted and portrayed himself. The duke wanted Nicholas to be the perfect heir and future duke.
?
?Good morning, sir,” Baker said as he opened the door. “Your father is in his study, expecting you.”
“Very good, Baker.” Nicholas had deliberately kept his father waiting for over an hour. It was far past time for his father to realize he was an adult now and would not cater to his every whim.
He walked down the gray marble hall, reminiscing on running down this same hall with his brother Simon. Nicholas grimaced as he thought about his younger brother. Simon would have been twenty-seven this year. Except the smallpox outbreak that took his life when he was only ten. Nicholas had been at Eaton at the time, surrounded by boys so he couldn’t even mourn the loss of his best friend and brother.
