Page 28 of A Sham Betrothal
“Let me whisper back then”—she turned her face in the direction of his neck for the purpose—“if only to assure you that your friend and I spoke of nothing. I hardly remember what we spoke of.” She allowed her gaze to roam around the room and willed her trembling to cease.
“Come. That is a poor answer.”
She felt his eyes as he watched her. Then she felt his approach as he slowly lifted a hand to caress the curl that hung over her shoulder.
Her breath ceased.
The movement and voices in the room clanged and boomed, though they sounded from far away.
And then his fingers skimmed her shoulder as he lifted the curl in his hand.
Please don’t kiss my neck, she thought,for I shall be undone by such a gesture. Despite her internal pleas, she could not have moved for all the world.
He dropped the curl and shifted away suddenly, and she drew in a breath as would a person who surfaced from the deep, even as she felt a crimson flush rise to her cheeks. As she lifted her eyes, she found Sheldon watching her, his face contracted in lines of fury. It was the sight of him that allowed her to bring her breathing back to normal and herflush to die down. Yes, she was a willing party to this farce if only to set her life on her own terms. Marry she might do, but only for the deepest affection. Absolutely not out of necessity and certainly not upon the pressure of a man who thought he had rights.
Chapter 13
Basile rose early the morning after the Lemoines’ supper. He was surprisingly awake considering how late he had gone to bed and how much he had tossed and turned as he tried to sleep. He decided to take his horse out and ride along the Champs Élysées toward Passy in the direction of where the Ranelagh ball was held. It would get him some exercise and fresh air and would perhaps take his mind off the unsettling realization that occurred to him last night.
He was attracted to Sophie Twisden.Veryattracted.
What had started out as mere flirtation to satisfy those who doubted their betrothal had taken on a sudden shift when he found himself ensconced on the small sofa at her side, leaning in to whisper in her ear and drawing in her happy scent of orange citrus. Grazing the soft skin of her neck as he toyed with the curl that fell from her coiffure had been a mistake, for it only made him aware of how much he wanted to continue the exploration.
It was an unfortunate realization to come to at this point, for he was neither ready to settle down—exceptingof course if she held him to his public declaration—nor was she a woman he could trifle with. These thoughts dogged his steps as he went to the courtyard and called for his groom to saddle a horse, the ones for riding all of the Kladrubers breed. The stables were conveniently located in hishôtel de ville, which he had to admit was one benefit of holding the title of marquis. If any one of his older brothers were still alive, Basile would have had to content himself with a rented mews several streets away from whatever much smaller house he would possess.
He rode out, wearing a cape to keep off the dust, then turned left to ride along the Seine before crossing over the Pont Royal to continue along the Tuileries. Other riders were about, but none that he knew. Most of the people were in carriages and appeared to have a specific destination in mind. As he allowed his horse to follow the border of the Tuileries, the sight of its leafy trees reminded him that he had not gone there in a while, and the cooling green would be a soothing contrast to the summer heat. It was a project for the next time he was on foot.
Ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of what he thought was a familiar figure walking toward the entrance to the Tuileries near the palace. Was he seeing things? He nudged his horse forward to see if it was indeed she or whether he was conjuring the person he most wished to see.
“Sophie!”
She turned and shielded her eyes from the sun coming up behind him as she looked up. Her face broke out into a smile of recognition.
“Basile, I would have thought you still asleep after our late night.”
“I might say the same about you,” he replied. “But itappears you are not a woman who is easily fatigued if you are up already. Do you ride?”
“I don’t have a horse in Paris, but I do ride when I can.” She glanced at her maid who was waiting at the entrance to the garden. “I was just headed into the Tuileries for a walk.”
“I would accompany you if I could, but I cannot bring the horse in. Perhaps we might walk together there another time. Or ride somewhere else, if you prefer it. I will lend you one of my mounts.”
“It is most kind of you,” she said. After a brief moment when their conversation stalled, she offered up a smile and turned to go.
He was reluctant to see her leave. “Sophie!” When she turned back, he added, “We have not decided upon our nextsortietogether. What shall it be?”
“Ah!” She thought for a moment, then moved back to where his horse stood and raised her eyes to him. “This is quite awkward to speak of and not at all a public outing, but my grandmother is asking that you come to see her, and I do not know how to gainsay her. She is speaking of organizing arepas de fiançaillesas soon as she is well enough to do so. I understand this is what the French do?” At this last bit she cringed as though fearing his response. But how could she think he would mind? He had brought this fully upon himself—andher.
“An engagement dinner! I hadn’t thought about that, but of course it must be expected.” His horse leaned down to nibble at a purple plant that grew in the cracks of the stone wall beside him and he gave him rein as he thought. She spoke before he could.
“I told Madame Bordenave that we had already organized one, but that it was private. I had to think of something, for she seems to believe you will not bring me to thealtar.” She laughed, but in her blush he could see the awkwardness of her situation, and not for the first time did he question his sanity in the moment he’d made his impulsive declaration.
“That woman is intolerable.” He pulled up on the reins, bringing his horse’s head up. “Leave such matters to me. I shall see that everything is done properly that will cause neither doubt nor stain upon your reputation. And as for your grandmother, if it pleases you, you may tell her to expect me tomorrow afternoon if she is well enough to receive me.”
Sophie smiled. “She will say she is well enough, but she is still weak. Therefore, I must ask you not to remain too long, for she will insist upon being dressed and receiving you in the sitting room, and I should not like her to fall into a relapse.”
“I will take care.” Basile bowed from his horse. “And I will take leave of you now. Enjoy your walk,ma chèreSophie.”
After she had bid him farewell, he led his horse in a canter as quickly as he could to the end of the quay and turned westward to the Champs Elysées, where he could have the run he desperately needed. He allowed his mind to roam, despite the fact that in one fashion or another his thoughts always seemed to return to her.
