Page 35 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

CHAPTER10

Adrian sat by the fireplace, watching the flames curl around the logs. The crackle of wood and smell of burning coals had always given him comfort. It reminded him of secret nights as a boy when he’d stolen into the drawing room with Rupert to light a fire and toast crumpets while the rest of the household slept.

He’d earned a thrashing from Father when the housemaid had discovered the mess the following morning—but it had been worth it, for the joy of eating crumpets at midnight with his brother. They’d tasted all the more delicious—the fear of being caught had enhanced their flavor.

What a shame boys had to grow up and shoulder responsibility in the world!

Earlier that evening he’d toasted crumpets for Henry while Sophia had rested in her chamber. The little boy’s wide-eyed delight at the taste had brought a pang to Adrian’s heart—not only due to the memory of happier times, but because Henry had nobody to toast crumpets, or disobey the rules, with.

Now, he waited for Henry’s mother to join him for supper, while Henry slept upstairs. From the moment she’d stepped into the carriage, his breeches had been too tight and he’d had a cockstand so painful it was all he could to do stop groaning every time his hand brushed against hers. It had abated since they’d parted company for the rest of the afternoon, but his blood was already warming at the prospect of spending an evening with her—alone.

He took a deep breath to clear his head, and drained his glass. Never more had he had the need for brandy. But it had been years since his house had contained the sort of brandy Peterton and the rest of his set enjoyed.

At least he had some wine to offer his guest at dinner. Mrs. Davis regularly ordered some, for tenderizing her beef. But Adrian also ensured there was sufficient for the staff to enjoy. Why should they be deprived of the pleasure of a good wine, merely because he had chosen to abstain?

The door opened, and Mrs. Davis appeared.

“Your guest is ready, sir.”

She stepped aside to reveal the woman behind her.

Sophia was dressed in a simple gray gown, trimmed with white lace. Her hair was scraped back into a sensible style, rather like that of a governess. To the untrained eye, she might have looked plain and uninteresting. But her eyes sparkled with intelligence as she took in her surroundings. Her gaze wandered about the room until it settled on him, and her cheeks bloomed with a faint color of rose. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile and her lips parted.

What might it be like to see those lips part in surprise as he slipped between her thighs? Or to feel those soft lips claim him while she kneeled before him and looked up, her eyes wide with wonder and glistening with the desire to please him?

His manhood twitched with need, and he rose to his feet, draining his glass in the hope that the cold water would dampen the urge to toss up her skirts and claim her against the wall, with no thought for whether his housekeeper was in the room or not.

“Sophia…”

Mrs. Davis glanced at him and narrowed her eyes at the familiarity. But Sophia’s smile widened, and she stepped into the room and dipped into a curtsey.

“Colonel FitzRoy.”

Mrs. Davis excused herself and Adrian approached his guest. He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, breathing in the faint scent of rose.

“Call me Adrian, please,” he said. “Are we not friends now?”

She smiled. “Adrian. And yes, we’re friends.”

“That’s excellent,” he said. “For I only invite my friends to dine. You would not have wanted to eat your supper in the kitchen.”

“If I recall, Adrian, you promised me, and Henry, tea in your kitchen.”

“That I did,” he said, “and there’s plenty of time for that during your visit. We can have tea in the kitchen tomorrow, if you like.”

“And you wouldn’t object?”

He let out a laugh. “Of course not! Would you?”

She smiled. “I’d like nothing better than to enjoy an informal tea in a kitchen. So much better than the dining rooms of London I had to endure during my season.”

“You enjoyed a London season?”

She colored and looked away, her smile disappearing. “I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it.”

“Did you meet your husband during your first season?” he asked. “I always have sympathy for a young woman who is proposed to at the beginning of her first season, for she misses out on the benefits of a long courtship—all those balls, parties, and drives around the park.”

She pulled her hand free, horror in her expression. “What would you know of a young woman’s first season?”

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