Page 23 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

“Brighton!” she exclaimed. “That hotbed of debauchery. I have no intention of visiting there.”

Memories of William threatened to discompose her and she stepped back.

“No, no,” FitzRoy said. “I don’t care for Brighton myself. But the countryside thereabouts is delightful. My home is neither large nor grand and you’d be perfectly safe there, I assure you.”

“May I have some time to consider it?”

“All the time in the world,” he said. “And, perhaps, if I may be permitted to tempt you further, there resides within a Broadwood grand in sore need of some attention from an accomplished player.”

“A Broadwood grand!” She sighed at the thought of it. Papa’s funds had never run to such an instrument, though he’d furnished her with a perfectly acceptable square piano. But when he’d died and his estate had been entailed away to a distant cousin, not even that was available to her. She—and Henry—had been left with nothing.

He held out his arm. “Come, Mrs. Black. Permit me to escort you and Master Henry home, and I promise I’ll say no more on the matter, for fear you’ll consider me a pest.”

She returned his smile, and took his arm. “I’m beginning to think you may not be such a pest as you’d like the world to believe,” she said.

“Perhaps I’m not trying hard enough.”

Henry slipped his hand in hers and skipped alongside her. To the casual observer they might be any contented family—husband, wife, and son. For a moment, her heart ached, and she gave herself a mental shake. She had survived thus far on her own, and she would again. Whatever reason Adrian—ColonelFitzRoy—had for befriending her and her son, she must accept with gratitude, but be prepared for the time when it would come to an end.

But, for now, she could, at least, enjoy being in the company of a gallant man—something she’d never believed she would experience again.

As they followed the path toward the main gates leading out of the park, Sophia spotted a familiar shape on the opposite bank of the water. A woman, accompanied by an unfamiliar man and surrounded by six small dogs, all attached to her wrist by a lead.

It was Maria, taking her charges for a walk. Sophia lifted her hand and waved.

Maria waved back and her companion tipped his hat.

“Well, of all the devils!” FitzRoy chuckled. “What’s he doing here?”

“You know the gentleman with my friend?” Sophia asked.

“That’s Charles, Lord Axford,” FitzRoy said. “He fancies himself as something of a zoologist, but I thought he detested dogs.”

“Then I wonder what he’s doing with Maria,” she said, “given that she is so fond of them.”

FitzRoy gave a smile but said nothing. For a moment, she thought she saw something in his expression, as if he were hiding a secret. Then she brushed it aside. She must learn to trust again. Not all men were like William.

By the time they reached Summerton Hall, the sun had disappeared below the horizon and faint droplets of rain had begun to splash on the pavement.

FitzRoy led her to the door and issued a bow. “Until next time, Mrs. Black,” he said, “when I trust you will do me the honor of accepting my invitation.”

“Won’t you come in and dry yourself?” she asked. “It’s begun to rain, and your breeches are still soaked from your adventure.”

“Much as I would like to accept your kind offer, I am afraid I am expected elsewhere,” he said. “But I will count the hours until we meet again.”

He lifted his hand and placed it on her cheek and the breath caught in her throat. With his thumb he caressed her skin, leaving a trail of fire. A whimper escaped her lips, and she drew close to him. His lips, full and sensual, parted and a soft whisper escaped them.

Sophia…

Did she imagine her name on his lips? Her heart thudded in her chest, sending pulses of heat through her body, pooling once more between her thighs where she ached for his touch. Her corset grew too tight and her nipples hardened, straining against the muslin of her gown. Only his touch could ease the ache…

“Mama!” Henry said. “Can we go in now? I’m getting cold.”

She broke free with a cry of shame. What was she thinking? FitzRoy took her hand and lifted it to his lips and she blushed at the need that had almost consumed her—the need to feel those lips caressing every inch of her skin.

Then he released her hand, and she felt a sense of loss. He shook Henry’s hand. “Until next time, young sir,” he said. He hesitated, then he pulled Henry into an embrace. For a moment, Sophia envied her son—to be held in those warm, strong arms, to feel as if you had someone to fight for you, to protect you…

Foolish girl!

She shook her head. One trip to the park with a gallant man and she was behaving like a giddy schoolgirl again. But she could not fight the pang in her heart at the sight of Henry in the arms of a man—a strong man, a good man—who could teach him how to be a man himself.

What might it be to be wanted—and loved—by such a man?

The door opened, and Tilly appeared. Sophia gave FitzRoy a curtsey before taking her son’s hand and pulling him inside. She ordered tea for herself and Henry, then slipped into the morning room.

Thankfully, the room was empty. In her current state of discomposure, she wouldn’t be able to withstand Mrs. Huntington’s questions.

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