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His jaw fell open. He was stunned. This girl was so unlike the people he was accustomed to associating with. She reminded him of Annabel Ridley, or rather the Duchess of Halmesbury now, but this relationship with Sophia was different. Perhaps he could have found this with Annabel if he had stripped the veneer of his charm off to reveal himself as a flawed man. With Sophia, he revealed himself and, instead of flinching or shying away, she seemed to be attracted to his honesty. Closing his mouth, which was still hanging open, he leaned down to press his lips against hers. She mumbled in surprise, but, to his delight, kissed him back.
He should be honest, explain the consequences of which he spoke, but then … then he would have to stop kissing her and take the risk that she would reach her breaking point of allowable consequences. She sealed her fate with her sweet esteem, and he could not let her go. She was vital to the healing of his soul. He should tell her, but he could not bring himself to do it. Hewouldtell her … he wouldtellher …tomorrow.
So, instead, he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips to coax her to part them and let him in to explore her sweet mouth. He groaned in delight when she complied, stealing his tongue into her silky depths and hardening with the sensation. Her body was so soft, so supple, and so perfectly fitted to his own as his arms stole around her to sweep her into a close embrace. Feeling her arms sneaking up around his neck, he sank into the pleasure of the young woman’s caress while her hands slid through his locks.
* * *
As their kiss deepened,Sophia sensed that Lord Saun—nay, Richard—wanted to tell her something. But the truth was, if that something would potentially affect their wedding, she did not want to hear it. Perhaps she was a gambler, just like her father and her brother. Perhaps even her mother had been a gambler at heart, wagering her future on a marriage to such a man. Regardless, Sophia’s impulse was to throw caution to the wind and embark on a new life with Lor—Richard, whose heavenly kisses and caresses in that moment were greatly encouraging her … impulse. Still, whatever consequences he feared, they would confront together. Her decision was made, and she was ready to proceed.
Then an alarming thought went through her mind. She leaned back to look up at him. “You do not have some … unmentionable disease?”
He stared at her in dazed confusion, apparently struggling to make sense of her words as their kiss ended abruptly. Sophia tried again. “The consequences … is it a … dread disease? Like … the p-pox?”
He burst out laughing. “Young ladies should not know or speak about dread diseases. But, no, I am healthy.”
She blew an unladylike puff. “Oh my, that is a relief! And if you wanted a proper young miss, you should not have pursued me. I did my best to dissuade you.”
Richard smiled down at her while letting her go. “You are very sweet.”
“I am not being sweet. I am being quite selfish, I assure you. I do not wish to contract the pox!”
Richard chuckled again. “Neither do I, Sophia, neither do I. Shall we?”
He offered her an arm, and she took it so that he may lead her to the site of their nuptials.
What a very strange week it had been. And now she would wed, hopefully for the only time in this life, which made a strange week even stranger. She could not help but think that life would never be dull with Lord Richard Balfour, the illustrious but sullied Earl of Saunton, and she hoped fervently that she was correct as he escorted her through his grand London townhouse. He was unlike any other man of her acquaintance, and it fascinated her to discover where their path together would lead.
* * *
Their vows tookplace in the library overlooking the gardens. Sunlight streamed in through a wall of French doors edging the length of the room. Everyone was in good spirits. Everyone, that was, except for the aloof Mr. Peregrine Balfour who barely said a word, and, of course, her own seething brother who stood apart from the wedding party, glowering near one of the French doors. When not scowling at her directly, Cecil spent most of the ceremony with his back turned to glare into the gardens. Sophia ignored him. He had created the situation with his greed, and she was unwilling to assume any of his guilt.
Aunt Christiana sniffed into a handkerchief that Uncle Hugh had handed to her during the vows. She and her aunt might not see eye to eye about a woman’s role, but Sophia appreciated the older woman stepping in to mother her, always doing what she thought was best for Sophia’s future.
Lily was particularly fey, taking in the vows with an expression of sheer joy. Her large brown eyes that dominated her dainty face were lustrous, and she glowed with the light of a thousand candles. There was no doubt that her cousin was happy for the fortuitous turn of events, especially now that she knew about the grave danger facing Sophia.
Lord Saun—Richard—I need to become accustomed to his name … we are marrying, after all!—Richard stared down into her face with reverence, looking not at all like a depraved libertine but an enthralled youth, never taking his eyes off her. She did not quite know what to make of it; his green eyes glowed with admiration in the well-lit room. She could drown in his soulful gaze, but she was mildly uncomfortable. She wanted to assist him with his crusade, but she was not a savior, and she hoped his ideal of her would measure up to his expectations.
The ceremony ended and the wedding breakfast began, with the unlikely gathering of personalities sitting around the breakfast table. Her aunt and uncle talked with the vicar, while Lily chattered to Sophia. Perry, as Richard called him, picked at his eggs and ham while swallowing down endless cups of coffee and speaking little unless Richard addressed him directly. Perhaps his brother was recovering from a night of drinking?
Cecil was in the foulest mood, stabbing at his plate aggressively to make loud clinking noises with the cutlery. It was quite ill-behaved, but a minor offense compared to his other transgressions. That her brother had not said a word, even to greet the earl, did not bother Sophia. He was no longer her problem, and Uncle Hugh would address the matter.
She reserved no doubts that Lord Moreland was dealing with her sibling because the Moreland title was synonymous with family. Both her uncle and her grandfather before him were dedicated to safeguarding their household, which had proved very fortunate for both Sophia and Cecil when their parents died within weeks of each other. She still could not believe that Cecil had thrown away such a loyal family connection for the sake of high wagers and spirits.
Shaking her head, she decided she would not waste any further thoughts on the scapegrace, so she turned to Richard only to find him once again staring at her. She shifted uncomfortably.
“You look ravishing today,” he murmured in her ear, his heated breath sending tingles along her skin.
“Um … thank you?” Sophia could not claim to be familiar with compliments from handsome men. She had spent much of her time dissuading them of any interest.
“I hope you like the ring? We can get another if you wish?”
Sophia looked down at the gold band on her finger in a floral design of diamonds and sapphires. “I love the ring!”
“It belonged to my mother.”
Sophia felt her cheeks warm with pleasure. It seemed a high compliment to bestow his mother’s ring on her.
“It would seem neither of our brothers are happy to attend our vows this morning.” Richard tipped his head toward where Perry and Cecil sat side by side in silence across the table.
