Page 37 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

“Did you enjoy the meal?”

Her host leaned forward from his position at the opposite end of the table. The candlelight picked out his features, the square jaw, strong, straight nose, and dark blue eyes that focused on her.

“I did,” she replied. “I’ve not had sorbet for many years. As for pineapple, I’d heard of their exotic taste, but never believed I would get to experience it.”

“The family estate has a pinery,” he said. “Even though it is now let, I am able to procure fruit from it. Perhaps Henry might wish to taste some tomorrow. There should be plenty left.”

“You are too generous.”

He smiled and leaned back, picking up his glass.

Water. Again. Throughout the meal he’d avoided the wine, though there had been plenty for her to drink.

“Have you finished?” he asked.

“I have, yes, thank you.”

“Then perhaps you’d care to join me in the drawing room, where I can introduce you to my Broadwood grand.”

“Don’t you want a brandy by yourself first?”

He shook his head. “I always found that rather an odd tradition,” he said, “the men retire to drink and smoke while the women take tea. Why segregate the sexes?”

“Why, indeed?”

“Unless,” he said, “the women wish to spend the time discussing us men while we’re out of their hearing.”

“And you think my sex is devoid of any interesting subjects of conversation other than men?”

“Some women, yes,” he said, smiling. “But I suspect the fair example of womanhood in my company tonight is an exception. As for my own sex, I cannot always assure you that the men, when they retire, do not spend their time discussing women, or perhaps subjects that are unsuitable for a lady’s ears.”

A glint of wickedness shone in his eyes and she lifted her glass to her lips, to dampen the little pulse of need within her. How did he manage to disarm her so? What was it in his expression that drew her in, as if to a flame, with no concern for whether it might burn her?

She blushed and sipped her wine.

“Of course,” he said, giving her a wink, “most of the time you’d be sorely disappointed to hear what we discuss when ladies are not present. Most of the time our conversations are somewhat dull, thickened as they are by the consumption of excess brandy.”

“In which case, I would venture to say that the example of manhood before me is an exception,” she said. “I cannot help notice that you don’t take pleasure in brandy—or wine—compared to the rest of your sex.”

“I have seen the evils brought about by excessive consumption of alcohol,” he said. “I know what it can do to a man—and how a man may be lulled into thinking it’s the answer to his problems, when those problems have been created by others.”

His expression darkened and he looked almost angry. He sighed and pushed his plate aside.

“Are you well—Adrian?” she asked.

He blinked and the smile returned. “Apologies,” he said, “I was thinking of a friend. He always spoke a great deal about women whenever we retired after a meal. The brandy loosened his tongue and he sometimes revealed a little too much of the women who ruined him—one in particular.”

He stood, and drew back his chair.

“But now is not the time to speak of such matters, when something far more pleasurable awaits us. Would you do me the honor of joining me in the drawing room?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Colonel FitzRoy’sdrawing room was twice the size of Papa’s, and it was dominated by a grand pianoforte, which stood opposite the doorway beside the window.

Made of polished walnut, it almost gleamed in the candlelight, the pattern in the grain of the wood giving it a mottled appearance and depth of character. Four thick, sturdy legs supported the instrument, carved into a clean, elegant form.

---