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“Then we shall forgo balls. Is that what you want?”
“I am not fond of crowds, so I would prefer to hold dinner parties and small events. What if I wanted to write a book?”
“Then you shall write a book. Do you have one in mind?”
“I do not. What if I wanted to hold salons and invite intellectuals to our home?”
“Then I shall greet our guests and take part in your discussions. Whatever your heart desires. My only requests are that our marriage be a true partnership and that you provide me with an heir.”
“Why should I believe you?”
Saunton chuckled, sitting back in his seat as his eyes swept over her face. “I am famously unconventional, am I not?”
Sophia nodded.
“I need an interesting woman to keep me in line. And for the first time in my life, I want … ardently desire … to be kept in line. You will have to trust me, but I am taking the same leap by trusting in you. I am trusting in you to be your true self, to speak your mind, and to contribute to a wonderful future together.”
Sophia stared at him thoughtfully as she recalled Cecil and her sleepless nights. Then she considered taking a chance on the earl. She knew deep down she was an untraditional woman and she needed an unconventional husband if she were to marry and remain true to herself. There was no one more unconventional than the strange Earl of Saunton who spoke to her so candidly.
Here she stood at a crossroads—she could spend another night terrified in her room, or she could take a leap and hope that he was strong enough to catch her.There were no guarantees that their relationship would work, but it sounded so awfully appealing to try. To help the gentleman forge a fresh path. It sounded infinitely more appealing than evading the murderous Lord Leech over the coming weeks or months.
“How do we proceed?”
“I will return tomorrow, and we will take a ride through the park?”
“Hmm … it sounds wonderful, but my uncle will never agree to you courting me.”
“I see. I shall contrive a plan to persuade him, then.”
Sophia stood up, prompting the earl to rise. She could hear Uncle Hugh’s heavy footfalls in the hall. By now, one of the servants had informed him that an infamous rake was in his drawing room, paying addresses to his niece. Stepping around the table, she stood directly in front of the earl.
“I already have a plan. Are you certain you wish to see this courtship through to the end? This is your last chance to walk away.”
Saunton’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Yes … I am certain.”
Sophia stepped closer, noting his pupils dilated as she approached him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the tall form of her uncle stepping into the drawing room. With a deep breath, she leapt into the earl’s arms, springing up on her toes to throw her arms over his wide shoulders, and kissed him full on the lips.
* * *
As Sophia’ssoft body landed against him, Richard staggered back in confusion, firing with heat when her lips found his. Apparently, forging a genuine connection with a compelling young woman lit his passions to unprecedented heights. Without his usual glib armor, his soul was laid bare and Sophia’s innocent, inexperienced mouth laid waste to his defenses as a surge of pure desire invaded his senses. Sophia was the earth and he the helpless moon trapped in orbit. His blood soared as he hungrily devoured her lips in return. He could not get enough—
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”
Richard fought through his befuddled thoughts as he became cognizant of Sophia’s last words before she flew into his arms and robbed him of his sanity. Releasing her slim waist gently, he slowly turned around to find an angry middle-aged lord who was as flushed in the face with anger as Richard’s own must be with newly awakened passion. Groggily, Richard realized he had just been maneuvered into compromising Sophia. He knew she was a clever girl. He could only be grateful she had verified it was what he truly wanted before forcing him to propose.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw and then dropped a respectful bow. “Lord Moreland, I wish to marry your niece.”
Lord Moreland ignored his declaration. “Sophia, where the hell is your chaperone?”
A bleating snore echoed throughout the drawing room. Lord Moreland swung around to find Nancy sleeping in the chair by the door. He spun back.
“Nancyis your chaperone?” he growled at his niece.
Sophia looked unrepentant.
“Well, there is no foul. I am the only one who saw—”
“Lord Moreland!” The viscount’s face fell.
