Page 29 of Love Unraveled
“Only momentarily,” Sophie said dismissively. She turned into him and placed her left hand on his shoulder. “I would dance in the newer way.”
Gaston was happy to oblige. He placed his right hand on her waist while keeping a gentle grip on her other hand.
“How did you manage an invitation?” she asked.
Gaston laughed. Sophie was always quick to recover. “I have my ways.”
He turned her, delighting in her fluid movement, easily directed by a simple touch. His mind strayed to other movements he’d enjoyed with Sophie, and he had to harness it and tug it away from such memories. His need was not to bed her. It was to find out if there was anything salvageable for them. She ran her gloved thumb across his palm, and his body instantly responded. He smiled at her. Bedding her would assuredly be an added boon.
“I am happy you are here,” she said, throwing back her head and laughing as he twirled within the ensemble surrounding them.
She stayed that way, and he could see the little girl in her. Sophie had always loved to spin. She would turn and turn until she became too dizzy. She’d fall to the ground in a pile of skirts and laughter. Sometimes, he would join her, and they would lie there looking at the sky, watching the clouds roll by.
They did not speak again for the remainder of the dance, but she remained rapt, her dark gaze boring into his, her smile inviting. Gaston knew she was putting on a show for anyone watching, but he could not help but get lost in it. He’d dreamed of her for too long not to yearn for the promise her facade offered. He wished it were not an act.
As the last notes lingered in the air, she touched his cheek. “Gaston” was all she said before stepping back. Yes, a performance, but it went straight to his heart, and he wanted more. He presented his arm, and she tucked her hand around it.
“Would you like a beverage?” he asked as she took a seat on one of the gilded chairs lining the edge of the dance floor.
“Sì, I am unexpectedly parched.” Sophie ran an elegant finger along her neckline, stopping at her daringly exposed chest.
Gaston’s body took note, and he turned uncomfortably in time to see the duke pivot and walk away. He must remember Sophie was playing a game right now and he was a pawn to be used. He hoped that would change, but he must not lose sight of it, or he would succumb again to a woman who would discard him. The same woman.Mon Dieu, he questioned his sanity.
He waited for some lemonade, listening to various conversations. Mostly mundane bits and pieces about the season and events. One gentleman referred to a game of faro being played in another room, and Gaston decided he would be wise to take his leave of Sophie for a while and focus on his end of the bargain with Liverpool.
Sophie flitted her fan playfully in front of her face when he returned with the lemonade. “I’m going for a game of cards, Sophie. I’ll be back in a while should you choose to grace me with another dance.”
“Oh,” she said, taking a quick sip before setting the glass aside and getting to her feet. “I adore a good game. I’ll join you.”
“Sophie,” he said, about to tell her it was no place for her, but stopping at the look she gave daring him to say it. What did he care? He held out his arm. “By all means, please do. I enjoy a good commotion.”
She laughed joyously and hooked her hand over his forearm. It seemed some things did not change. Life with Sophie was never dull.
Chapter Twenty
Trust everybody, but cut the cards.
—Finley Peter Dunne,Mr. Dooley’s Philosophy
“He may havewon the battle, but he is without cavalry. Our allies should be able to corner him now.”
Sophia was instantly alert, leaving all thoughts of flirtation with Gaston behind. She did not turn to see who had spoken. Instead, she swept the room with her gaze as though tremendously interested in the goings-on. She was not the only woman in the room, but they represented just a handful, and other than a group in the corner playing whist, most were watching, not engaging in the games.
“I’ve heard the allies are in retreat. The emperor has got them on the run.”
Sophia casually turned in the direction of the voices. Men too free with their words were the best men to engage. A forbidden game of faro. How fitting. She let go of Gaston and walked toward the men, too late realizing the Duke of Salinger was among them. He had yet to notice her.
“Sophie,” Gaston said quietly as he caught up with her and presented his arm.
She wanted to slap it. The men would not talk so easily in front of a stranger. But if she publicly rebuffed him now, they would not be at ease with her effrontery. Of course, she was also assuming they had no knowledge of her earlier confrontation with the duke. Although, some of them might applaud seeing the duke quelled. He was not an especially well-liked man.
Regardless, she could no longer slip into the game seamlessly so was left no choice but to act in keeping with the expectations they would have of Countess Sophia Tessaro. She scooped Gaston’s arm and visibly pulled him toward the faro table.
“My lords, I do hope you’ll indulge me and allow me to join your little game.” She bestowed her best smile on them and, with her free hand, flipped open her fan and fluttered it coquettishly. “Do you know how to play, Monsieur Durand?”
“I far prefer to watch,” he said.
“Oh, do tell,” she said with a small smirk and an exaggerated raise of her brow. Gaston in turn raised an eyebrow, and she got the response she was seeking. Sophia fluttered her fan again and allowed the men their titter. It was exactly the distraction she was trying to create so they would return to their relaxed state.
