Miss Sophia's Spirited Spinster's Society Page 3

  She wanted to ask him about it but dared not. The closer they grew to one another, the harder it would be for her to walk away when it was all said and done. “I can’t be a man’s mistress.”

  His expression was calm. “No, but you’re a spinster and even spinsters need friends.”

  “I have enough friends, Your Grace.”

  “Call me Morris. No one who kisses me calls me by my title.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Francis calls you Morris. Does that mean you kiss everyone who calls you Morris?”

  He laughed with good humor when any other man would have found her words utterly offensive. “No, just the pretty ones.”

  “Lorena calls you Morris.”

  He became serious. “I’ve never kissed Lorena and I never will.”

  She tapped the invite she held in her hands before she said her next words. “Genie calls you Morris.” She’d heard some of Francis’ staff the other day mention Morris and Genie in the same sentence.

  “One day, I might kiss Genevieve.” Genevieve ‘Genie’ Toft was the daughter of an earl, which made her perfect for him.

  Sophia hadn’t had time to brace herself against his words, no time to put up her guards, no time to block herself from the pain. She closed her eyes and fought the tears. Would she truly cry over a man she hardly knew? Their kiss had been powerful and for Sophia, it had been more than just lust.

  She heard his chair move. “Don’t.” She opened her eyes as he stood. “Don’t come near me.” If he touched her, she’d cry and probably give herself over to what her body wanted. She was cursed by her need for him.

  He slowly retook his seat. “I have to marry the daughter of a peer.” It was clear by his insistence that it would be so. It was also clear from his words that any peer’s daughter would do. There was no love behind it, only what sounded like duty.

  “Why?” she asked loudly. She didn’t truly want the answer but she needed to know. “You’re a duke. You can do as you please.”

  “Not if I wish to right my family name.” His words were too calm to fit her anger.

  She was done speaking to him. “Leave your invitations and go.”

  “We’ll discuss this later.”

  “No, we won’t.” She tried to read the invitation in her hands but couldn’t.

  “We will.”

  She glared at him, finding him to be at her side, exactly where she didn’t want him. She stood. “No, we are done. You got your kiss, in three days, no less, and I kissed you back. You’ve won. Can’t that be enough?”

  He stared at her. “I wish it were but it’s not.” She watched a battle play over his features. “From the moment I saw you—”

  “Stop!”

  “Sophia, I’ve never felt this way.”

  She backed away, knocking over the chair. “Good evening.”

  “About anyone.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t get you out of my head. You’re there in my every breath and every step, with your soft smile and curves, driving me mad.”

  She closed her eyes, unable to believe his words. She opened them when his arms went around her. Her hands rested on his shoulders. Her mind shouted for her to deny him.

  “I can’t stop touching you. I can’t stop wishing to be near you anymore than I can stop myself from taking my next breath but I won’t kiss you again until Levi is gone.”

  She planned to keep Levi for a very long time then, perhaps long enough for Morris to marry. She pictured the lady he settled for and knew she’d be nothing like Sophia. She’d be more than just beautiful. She’d be poised and gentle and wouldn’t beg Morris to take her the first time he kissed her. “You have to go.”

  He leaned forward and placed his head against hers.

  They stayed that way for a long time, simply holding one another. Sophia eventually relaxed in his hold and breathed in his scent, their breaths an even exchange. It felt right to be in his arms. Their hearts seemed to beat as one.

  She realized then just what it had been that she’d felt the moment she’d set her eyes on him.

  Love.

  She was in love with the Duke of Cort, a man so far out of her reach that she’d be a fool to let this go on any further. “Perhaps I should be the one to go.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Leave the society. Leave you and your friends alone.”

  “They’re not just my friends anymore, Sophia. You’re a part of us. You’re essential. You fit.” He pulled her closer.

  She smiled. “That was probably the best thing you’ve said all day.”

  He chuckled and stepped away. “I’ll count the days until Levi is gone and I’ll see you at dinner.” Sophia’s father was to host dinner again that night. Morris bowed and left.

  She looked at the table and the scattered mail and realized her life was much like that parlor.

  A mess.

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  CHAPTER THREE

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  When one thought of the sort of home that the renowned Mr. Taylor would own, they were never quite ready for what they found inside. Much like the Dovehaven estate, everything was the very best, however, the colors were all subdued. Whites and creams filled the spaces and made up the décor. The paintings that the tailor had selected were also calming to gaze upon, which meant that if anyone wished to see something vibrant, they had to turn to their guests.

  Sophia enjoyed the design. It had aided her well with her writing, allowing her to clear her mind as she put pen to paper but then whenever someone came to visit, it also ensured that people were the focus of the room and conversation. Most of Sophia’s friends were part of the working class, men and women in trade like her father. It wasn’t until Lorena that she’d hosted her first dinner party for the beau monde. The dinner three nights ago had gone well and Sophia was proud of that since she planned to host many more.

  Sophia stopped one of the maids on the stair landing. “Is the parlor ready?”

  “Yes, miss.” The maid curtseyed and left with a bundle of sheets in her hands.

  Sophia continued down the stairs and smiled at seeing her father.

  “You do this very well.” He held out his hand and helped her down the rest of the way. He looked immaculate in a navy-blue jacket, a cream waistcoat with gold threading, and matching breeches. The blue made his eyes greener and took years off him, transforming him into a young man, though one could not miss the gray that had begun to grow at his dark temple. He was still one of the most handsome men she knew.

  “Thank you.” She was glad he approved of her skills. He’d made various versions of the same compliment over the years and so had bankers, merchants, and businessmen. Some of those compliments had ended with proposals and such compliments as her beauty holding resemblance to an Italian opera singer named Savia Bellini who had died many years ago. Sophia had never heard the woman sing but imagined her to have been very good.

  They started for the drawing room. “I counted the chairs at the table. Is someone unable to make it?”

  She looked up to find him watching her. She swallowed and wrapped her fingers around his arm more firmly. “Yes, Levi can’t make it.” She’d been distraught when he’d decided to go to the theatre for an impromptu rehearsal but she’d understood and told her father just that.

  “Yes, I’ve seen Levi act a time or two before. In a few years, I know he’ll be taking London by storm.” He helped her sit on the couch and took the seat next to her. “And I had the pleasure of watching to you together the other day.”

  Sophia had invited Levi to the house and they’d spent the day in the garden, walking amongst the most colorful part of their residence. It had been a fine day to be outside. “I hope you didn’t mind that I didn’t tell you.”

  He smiled. “No, dear, you know you never have to ask me who you may spend your
time with. You’re free to make your own choices. I’ve always told you this.” He patted her hand.

  She squeezed his fingers in return and grinned. Their relationship would never be of the usual sort and Sophia was thankful for that. When the question of schooling had come up when she’d been ten, she’d told her father that she never wished to leave him and he’d continued to make it so.

  “Do you like him?” Mr. Taylor asked.

  Sophia bit her lip. “I do. He’s a wonderful man.”

  “Do you believe you may keep him?”

  Sophia laughed. “You speak as though he is some wounded creature that I’ve brought home.”

  Her father shrugged. “He’s not far from that, is he?” There was knowledge in his green eyes and Sophia wondered just how much her father knew.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “He’s a good friend.” Their hands remained locked.

  “But you’re nothing more than friends, are you?”

  “No.”

  “And is there someone else you could be interested in? Perhaps a certain gentleman who seemed to hold most of your time at the last dinner?” Her father had been watching her interact with the duke.

  “He was simply flirting, like the others.”

  “No, he seemed far more aggressive. I’d have stepped in had I thought you needed me but you know your own heart.” He had great trust in her, which always made Sophia feel loved far more than anything else he could say. “His mother is the same way, aggressive in her pursuits. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting her but I’ve heard of her.”

  “You have?” Sophia was surprised she’d not heard anything about the Duchess of Cort.

  “They call her the Grand Lynx.”

  “Oh.” Sophia had heard those words before, whispered by gentlemen at parties. She hadn’t known that the lady they spoke of was Morris’ mother. The image of a large lynx came to mind. She’d seen it once when a zoo had come to London. The cat was very pretty but also very dangerous.

  No wonder Morris would think to go after a lady like Genie, never mind that Genie was in love with Francis and had been since the beginning of time from what Sophia had been told.

  Genie wouldn’t suit either duke, and though Francis seemed to like her, he didn’t seem inclined to ask for Genie’s hand. Morris would probably win her over if he pursued her. She didn’t know any woman who could resist him.

  “Would you like to tell me what is on your mind?” he asked.

  She straightened and looked at him. She’d shared nearly everything with him in the past. He knew about her first love, Lom, or rather Columbus, a man she wished she’d never met and who’d broken her heart in the worst way possible. Her father had been there to wipe her tears and she suspected he was the reason she no longer heard from Lom. If she told him everything that was happening between her and Levi or her and Morris, her father would not judge her, simply steer her in the right direction… and perhaps that was what she feared most. She knew what the right direction would be and wasn’t ready to make a decision. “Not yet. I can’t tell you yet. I must do this on my own.”

  He smiled and touched her cheek. “Whenever you’re ready. Just know I’ll understand. I’ll do anything for you.”

  She rested her cheek more firmly on his hand.

  “Are you using sponges?”

  “Daddy!” She laughed and covered her cheeks, sure her face had turned a rosy color.

  “I would enjoy having an answer from you.” Every now and again, he asserted his authority.

  She sighed. “I take precautions.”

  He grinned and wrapped an arm around her. “You know that I love you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I care for you.”

  She laughed and nodded.

  “And I’m very glad to have you as my daughter.”

  She stared at him. It was a speech he gave her often and there were times when she thought he did it out of some sort of guilt. She’d often wondered at that guilt and questioned if it had anything to do with her mother.

  She knew her father’s biggest secret, one that could change their lives forever, but she knew there to be more.

  A year ago, she’d begun to wonder if her father was truly her father at all. Her father and her uncle were identical in looks and had been born minutes apart from one another. It would be just as easy for her to have been the current Viscount of Dovehaven’s bastard instead of a tailor’s but if she had a choice, she would choose her father every single day.

  She did realize that being a viscount’s daughter, even his by-blow, would have brought her closer to the world of the ton but even that would not make her change her mind. She adored her father and who he was.

  She grabbed his arm, deciding it was time she let her father know how she felt. “I’m very glad to be your daughter and no matter what the circumstances, I will always be glad that it was you who took me from that orphanage.”

  He seemed slightly puzzled at her words but patted her head. He stood just as there was a knock on the door. “Come, our first guests have arrived.”

  The guests seemed to come all at once and when Morris walked through the doorway, Sophia was glad her father was with her. Only pleasantries were exchanged, but she couldn’t help thinking about what had transpired earlier that day. They’d nearly made love on the table in Lorena’s parlor. She could tell that he was revisiting the same memory… the kiss, the confessions that had followed.

  An hour later, they were sitting in the parlor waiting for their final guests. Lorena, Aunt Tilda, and Maura had yet to arrive and Sophia wondered what was taking them so long. Ashwick paced in front of the fireplace and continued to look at the clock on the mantle. He seemed anxious and his worry was starting to take life in Sophia as well.

  “When does Levi get here?”

  She turned and watched Morris take the seat next to her, watching her closely.

  She folded her hands in her lap and cleared her throat. “He couldn’t make it. He’s at the theatre.”

  “Of course, he is.”

  She smiled. “He’s real, Your Grace.”

  He leaned forward, still keeping polite distance between them. “What did I tell you about calling me that?” His teal eyes shimmered with heat.

  Sophia took a deep breath and admitted she loved his voice and his scent. She blinked and leaned away when she realized she’d been leaning toward him. She glanced around the room and saw that everyone else was occupied in their own conversations, though her father did lift a brow before turning back to Francis.

  “What a lovely dress,” Morris whispered.

  She looked down at the mauve dress she’d decided to wear. The high-collared costume had been created when her aunt had died, a subdued color to honor her. She’d worn it in an effort to look more reserved. “Thank you.”

  “It won’t help,” he told her. “I still want you.”

  She didn’t look at him, too afraid that she would see the truth in his eyes. She was grateful when noise came from the front door and stood just as drama unraveled.

  In less than an hour, they’d discovered from a distraught Aunt Tilda and Maura that Lorena had been kidnapped. A search party was just about to be assembled when Lorena was carried in by Sudworth, her young butler. He’d gone after the kidnapper, tied him up, placed him into the carriage, and delivered an unharmed Lorena back into their fold. Sudworth had just started working for Lorena a few days ago, just around the time Sophia had joined the group. However, because of his lack of age and refinement, many had been wary of his presence. Now no one would question his loyalty or position again after his show of bravery.

  Ashwick had taken Lorena into the drawing room so that they could be alone while Sudworth had taken everyone else into the parlor to tell them the story, revealing that the kidnapper’s name was Ben. Sophia had thought it all over now that they’d caught the man who was not only responsible for the kidnapping but also burning down Ashwick’s house. The night’s tragedy was
not yet over, though.

  Ashwick arrived in the parlor. “The ladies will join Lorena in the sitting room.”

  Sophia didn’t want to leave but was ushered out by her father and the door was closed behind her.

  Genie took her hand. “Let’s go comfort Lorena.”

  Sophia nodded. It was a good plan, though she was worried and the worry didn’t lessen when she found out that Ben was a part of the meeting. She didn’t like the idea of a group of lords and landed gentry speaking with a criminal. She spoke words of encouragement to Lorena, all the while trying to encourage herself.

  Ashwick finally returned and announced he was going to Liverpool to go after the man who’d hired Ben. “Julius and Morris will go with me.”

  She had hoped she’d heard him wrong but as the conversation around them went on, she realized that what he’d said was true.

  “If you leave, I won’t marry you.” The entire room went silent at Lorena’s threat but Sophia knew she’d do no such thing. She was in love with Ashwick and the earl knew it as well.

  Ashwick wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. “We will marry. I will build you a new townhouse grander than before. We will marry. We’ll live there, you will bear my heir, and you shall bestow upon me the love you promised me.” And then, with those moving words, he left a fuming Lorena behind. It would take them weeks of journey to and from Liverpool and Sophia didn’t like the thought of Morris being put in harm’s way.

  During their argument, she’d heard that Morris and Julius, who was a marquess, were both good with guns. That still didn’t make her feel better.

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