The Devilish Duke, page 15
She shook away the memory. Her mother may have fallen hopelessly in love with a rake, but Sophie would not make the same mistake. Not matter how much she was attracted to one.
“I know how much you loved my mother,” Sophie said. “But trust me, I learned my lesson from her. I have absolutely no intention of falling in love with a rake.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Come out, my dear. I promise not to hurt you.” The man’s voice was patient and coaxing as he slowly scanned the lower level of the warehouse space, his footsteps silent on the floor beneath as he walked the inside perimeter.
That bitch was hiding somewhere in the space, and he was damn well going to find her. He would not allow all of his plans to be unraveled by a stupid servant.
He stood still and listened.
A small whimper floated through the cavernous space.
Silently, he crept toward the sound. His eyes, already well accustomed to the gloom, spotted a small scrap of brown cloth only just peeking out from behind an old rotting pile of wood.
Catching them was always too easy.
He pushed against the planks and watched in satisfaction as they began to tumble down. The girl screamed while frantically trying to clamber out on all fours from the falling heap.
He was there waiting for her.
She looked up, and before she could even bother begging—it did get tedious after all—he slammed his foot into her head and watched as she crumpled to the ground.
He rolled his sleeves up and grabbed her motionless arms, pulling her out from the few planks that had fallen on her legs. He heaved her over his shoulders and carried her back up to the office. He dumped her onto the floor next to the desk and bent down, tying her limbs to the heavy oak legs.
He was now behind schedule, and he hated to be behind schedule. He could feel the rage building again, but he did not have time to unleash it here and now. Later. Later, he would let the beast have full reign on this bitch.
He looked down at her unconscious form. She had very nearly ruined all of his plans! He kicked her in the ribs, satisfied when he heard a crack.
She would pay dearly later, and he would have some fun with this one. His smile faltered when he saw the dead footman in the corner of his eye. First, he had to get rid of the body; otherwise, it would start filling the room with a foul stench, and he certainly would not be able to enjoy himself if he had to smell such a putrid thing.
He tsked… He hated to get his hands dirty, but he would do what he must. He bent down to pick up the body but twisted around when he heard the girl moan.
He saw she was slowly coming to. He walked over to her and crouched down in front of her. “There, there,” he crooned as he brushed some hair back from her face. “You have a very important role to play in this drama, my dear.”
Wiping away the tears sliding down the girl’s face, he said, “Hush, sweetheart. I was going to be gentle with you, but you made me chase you, and now I am late for the Opera.” He looked down and saw the terror in her eyes. He smiled. “Yes, you should be scared, for I have wonderful plans for us later this evening.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head down onto the floor.
She was silent once again. “That’s better,” he said as he bent down and kissed her softly on her lips. “You do need your rest.”
Now all he had to do was dispose of the man’s body, go to the Opera and make an appearance, and then he could return for the evening’s true entertainment. Yes, he would look forward to that.
…
Maggie regarded Sophie with a look of deep consideration on her face. “The Duke is half Irish, too, is he not?”
“Yes, I believe his mother was Irish. But what does that have to do with anything?” Sophie asked.
Maggie tapped her plump cheek with a finger, still half-lost in thought. “Irish men are known to be somewhat incorrigible when it comes to the ladies. He has not tried to seduce you yet, has he?”
“Good gracious!” she exclaimed, feeling the heat of a blush sweep up across her face as memories of Devlin’s kisses assailed her. “That is a highly inappropriate question.”
“Your mother is not here to protect you, so I feel it is my duty to do so.” Maggie appraised her from head to toe. “You’re suddenly looking flushed, lass. Which I dare say answers my question.”
“He has not seduced me,” Sophie said in a harsh whisper. Well, at least not yet, anyhow. “Besides, you are being entirely ridiculous. The agreement between myself and the Duke is a business arrangement first and foremost.”
“Yes, of course it is, lass,” Maggie replied, sounding highly dubious.
“Think what you will.” Sophie stood. “However, I have to go and visit with the other children quickly and then be off. I have a great deal to do today.”
She leaned over to give the older woman a quick peck on the cheek. “I know you only have my best interests at heart. But please trust me, all will be fine.”
“I do trust you, lass,” Maggie said. “It’s the Devil Duke that has me worried.”
“I am grateful to have such a good friend, even if you do tend to worry overly.” Smiling, she glanced across to Nicholas, who was happily showing off his wooden sword to Mr. Baker. “Actually, before I depart, I must ask you about Jane Thompson.”
Maggie gave her a questioning look. “What of her, lass?”
Where to begin? Sophie felt the now-familiar sensation of worry wrap itself around her heart. “I think she may be in trouble. You see, apparently she has disappeared.”
“Our dear Jane? Disappeared?” Maggie gasped. “How is that possible? I thought she was doing well working for the Crowleys?”
“So did I, until recently.” She went on to explain to Maggie the Earl of Abelard’s visit and the girl Tina’s.
“Jane is no thief.” Maggie glowered fiercely. “We must find out where she is and what has happened. What can I do to help?”
“I was hoping you might say that,” Sophie said. “From what I gather, Jane went missing at the Crowleys’ country estate during their last house party. They are about to host another house party, and I’ve managed to convince Devlin to take me. However, we need to gather as much information about that last party and who was in attendance.”
“Makes sense,” Maggie agreed.
“I went to Lord Crowley’s residence this morning, which met with abysmal failure.” Sophie threw her hands in the air in a show of helplessness. “The butler would not talk to me, nor let me speak with the housekeeper. So I was thinking perhaps that as they will not speak freely with someone of my rank that mayhap you might have more luck if you were to try?”
“Say no more, lass. I shall visit their London residence this very day and find out what I can.”
“Thank you. We need to know what happened at Lord Crowley’s last house party. Something that night obviously put the fear of God into Jane. Perhaps after you find out some of those details, we might have a better path to follow.”
“You can count on me, lass.”
Sophie hugged her quickly. “My thanks, as usual. Now, the time is running away from me, and I had best see the children before I have to head off.”
“Why the rush?”
She cringed slightly. “The Earl of Abelard is paying me a visit later today.”
“You do like to play with fire, don’t you?”
“He is enquiring about Jane, too, Maggie. I hope to find out some more details from him. So, you see, his visit has nothing to do with courtship of any sort; thus, there shall be no fire to play with whatsoever. Not that I was wishing to play with fire of any nature with him,” she quickly corrected. “And the Duke knows all about Abelard’s visit.”
“Have a care, for you have made a deal with the Devil now, and I fancy that he would not want you dabbling with any other fire apart from his own.”
Chapter Eighteen
“I cannot believe that the Earl of Abelard had the nerve to stand you up today!” Mabel declared as she stepped out from the carriage and joined Sophie on the steps leading up to the Royal Opera House.
Sophie stifled a sigh as they began ascending the steps toward the entrance. That was all Mabel had been able to talk about after she had received an apologetic note from the Earl earlier. “He did not stand me up, Aunt. He sent word that something urgent had arisen.”
“Ha!” her aunt scoffed. “What a load of codswallop. Honestly, Sophie, the man has probably reconsidered you as a suitable bride after that atrocious display in our drawing room the other day, yet he did not have the bollocks to say so.”
They came to the top of the stairs and stepped into the entrance hall of the grand building. The foyer was bustling with people all parading about in their finest evening wear.
The ladies were dripping with jewels and dressed in elaborately designed evening gowns, most of them there to be seen rather than to actually watch the opera. Indeed, the entertainment men and women preferred was to partake in a veritable evening of gossip and conjecture about each other—the general reason Sophie was never overjoyed to attend. However, tonight Don Giovanni was playing, which she was happy to make an exception for.
Even if it meant being subjected to her aunt’s tirades.
Luckily, the opera would start soon.
“Ladies,” a deep voice drawled from behind them. “You both look delightful this evening.”
Spinning around, she saw Devlin approaching from behind them. Goodness, he did look dashing in his evening wear. “What are you doing here?” And why did the very sight of him send her heart racing?
“Sophie! Oh, do forgive her manners, Your Grace,” Mabel implored beside her. “They are not normally so lacking.”
“Only around myself, it would seem.” He flashed a wicked grin at Mabel, who couldn’t help but simper in response.
“He is quite correct,” Sophie said.
“Sophie,” Mabel admonished. “Do not be so rude.”
“It is all right, Aunt,” she replied. “He enjoys my lack of artifice.”
“Indeed, I do.” He laughed, the sound richly ricocheting through the area.
She couldn’t help a small smile from forming. “Though you still have not answered my question, Your Grace.”
“I heard on the grapevine that you were going to attend,” he responded. “So here I am.”
She felt herself go weak at the knees. Damn how her body reacted to him. Just because he looked devastatingly handsome, dressed in his black tails and crisply starched white cravat, did not mean that she would succumb to him like every other woman in London surely already had.
“Your Grace,” Mabel gushed, “you pay my niece such a compliment!”
“I do try, though I think my efforts are very much unappreciated.” He winked in a conspiratorial manner. “A shame, really. But where are my manners?” he exclaimed, reaching down and taking hold of Mabel’s hand in his own. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Forgive me for not saying so straight away, but my dear Lady Winthrup, you are radiant tonight, wearing such a magnificently bright yellow gown.”
“Now you pay me such a compliment.” Mabel was succumbing to the man’s charms.
Sophie rolled her eyes. Her aunt looked like a walking sun tonight, her dress so vivid that it was almost hard to look at without squinting.
“And you, Lady Sophie,” he murmured as he picked up Sophie’s gloved hand, “look spectacular.” He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand.
She chastised herself as her whole body jolted slightly when she felt the pads of his gloved fingers briefly caress the underside of her gloved palm. It was ridiculous, really.
“Lose your balance?” he had the gall to ask, a twinkle of amusement lurking in his deep blue eyes.
She straightened her spine. “Not at all, Your Grace. I must have been jostled from behind.” The less he knew of the effect he had on her, the better. Though she rather suspected that he realized very well indeed how she reacted to him physically, in spite of herself. Drat it!
“Yes, yes,” Mabel agreed, snapping open her fan and waving it vigorously. “It is terribly crowded down here; mayhap we should make our way up to our box.”
“Perhaps you two ladies would join me in watching the performance from my box this evening?”
“What a lovely suggestion,” Mabel replied. “Your box is so big.”
“So I have been told.” He remained completely straight-faced.
Sophie pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “I thank you for the offer, but we cannot accept.”
“Why on earth not?” Mabel said. “The Duke’s box is one of the best in the house, and you love this opera.”
“I do, but I would not wish to inconvenience the Duke at all.”
“I can assure you, Lady Sophie,” he replied, “that the pleasure of two such beautiful ladies would in no way be an inconvenience.”
“You see, Sophie,” Mabel said. “The Duke would enjoy our company.”
“I am sure he would, but I do not fancy having to deal with all of the gossip that would ensue.” Though everyone would find out of their engagement soon enough, her aunt included, Sophie would rather not have to put up with all of the ogling and comments until she absolutely had to.
“Yes, it would be all anyone would talk of, would it not?” Mabel speculated, glee spreading across her face. “We would be honored to accept your generous offer, Your Grace.”
“Aunt Mabel!” Sophie exclaimed.
Her aunt leaned in close and whispered, “This is the perfect opportunity to win him over, my dear. He already appears quite smitten.” She quickly stepped back. “Now that is organized, if you will both excuse me for a moment, I must go and speak with Lord Hemingsworth. Perhaps, Your Grace, you will be so kind as to escort my niece to your box, and I shall join you there shortly.”
Devlin bowed. “An excellent idea, Lady Winthrup. I shall be privileged to do so.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Mabel smiled at him. “I will not be long,” she called out over her shoulder as she rushed off through the crowd.
Sophie sighed. Now how was she to concentrate on her favorite opera?
“When did you start caring about what others say?” Gently gripping her elbow, he guided her toward the grand staircase leading up to the boxed seats.
She became intensely aware of the heat radiating from his gloved hand through the material of her sleeve. She shook her head to clear away the distraction. “Actually, I was not being completely truthful. It is not what they will say that has me worried; rather, I am concerned about what you will say to my aunt.”
“Come,” he chided, “what could I possibly say that would have you worried?”
They came to the top of the staircase, and already, every head was spinning to look in their direction. And so it begins. Turning briefly, she looked at Devlin, who was watching her intently. “I have not told her of our impeding engagement yet,” she whispered.
“I had gathered as much. For if you had, the news would have already spread like wildfire.”
She grimaced. “Mabel is not that bad a gossip.”
An expression of incredulity infused his eyes.
“All right, she is an avid gossip. Which is why I do not wish to tell her just yet.”
“Of course, it is up to you when you decide to tell her; however, the notices of our engagement will be in the papers tomorrow, and I doubt she would appreciate being the last to know.” Devlin sounded highly amused at the prospect.
“Tomorrow?” Sophie all but shouted before she could stop herself.
Everyone in the immediate vicinity froze and looked toward her as if she had lost her mind. She quickly smiled and continued forward down the dimly lit corridor toward his box and away from any eavesdroppers. “What do you mean, the notices will be in the papers tomorrow?”
As they rounded the stairs to his box, he swiftly pulled her into a darkened alcove.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he pressed the length of her body tightly against his own. She’d meant the question to be harsh, but instead it had been but a breathless whisper. Already she felt her resolve weakening along with her voice.
“Greeting my betrothed properly.”
Devlin’s mouth silenced any of her further protests. His kiss was hot and heavy, demanding a response. Succumbing, she opened to him and tasted the warm spiciness of him. It was intoxicating.
Abruptly, he wrenched away and took a deep breath.
Without thinking of the consequences, Sophie lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Regardless of how vexed she was with him, her body wanted more. And since her head and heart were strong enough to withstand falling in love with him, she might as well allow her body to experience this heady sense of euphoria from his touch.
He groaned but did not push her away.
Feeling emboldened, she tentatively touched her tongue to his.
A low growl reverberated from his throat as he gently pushed her up against the back of the curtained wall and deepened the kiss. She could feel the heat and strength of him as he plundered her mouth.
With an oath, he tore his lips away from her and released her, taking a step backward.
“That is enough.” His voice was thick.
It took a moment for her to gather her wits and actually remember where they were. “Did I do something wrong?”
He laughed in a self-deprecating manner. “If we continue, I will not be able to show myself in public for some time.”
“What do you mean?” Sophie cocked her head to the side and looked at him in confusion.
He grinned and stepped closer to her. Picking up her hand, he placed it against his groin. She felt her face go bright crimson as her fingers brushed across the hard length of him.
“As you can feel, I already need a moment,” he whispered into her ear.
She nearly snatched her hand away, but then curiosity got the better of her. Hesitantly, she stroked her fingers across the material covering his shaft.
A groan rumbled from his chest. “Woman, you shall be the end of me.”
