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.”
Reluctantly, she dropped her hand. “Well, I would not want to be responsible for that.” A part of her marveled that she could affect him so.
Devlin laughed before he took in a few deep breaths of air. “Perhaps you should go ahead first. I need a minute.”
Sophie was more than happy that for once, it was he who was slightly discomposed. Stepping out from the alcove, she walked up the remaining steps to his box. The curtains were already pulled back with a satin sash, and a bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket on the side table.
Mabel hadn’t arrived yet. Just as well. Sophie did not think she would be able to keep the blush off her face if her aunt asked her where Devlin was. Goodness, even she couldn’t believe what they’d just been up to. She snapped open her fan and began to wave it somewhat vigorously in front of her.
Her eyes skimmed across the theatre, noting that the boxes were all filling up, and a great many eyeglasses were trained her way. Lovely. Speculation would be even more rife once everyone read the paper tomorrow. Which reminded her, Devlin never did explain why he had posted the notices without even a mention to her.
A minute later, he confidently strode inside and, with a wave of his hand, dismissed the two footmen waiting on the inside of the doors. He looked at her and grinned.
Folding her arms across her chest, she scowled back at him.
“Now what have I done?” he asked, sounding highly amused.
“I think you were trying to distract me out there.”
“My dear, I tried to stop.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You were the one begging for more.”
The man’s very presence was doing odd things to her powers of concentration, particularly when his breath brushed across her earlobe. She stepped away from him. “Did you really post notices of our engagement in tomorrow’s paper?”
“Yes,” he said, walking across to the side table. “You agreed to marry me within the month. I saw no need to further delay the announcement.”
“Well, it would have been nice to discuss it with me first.” Sophie walked to the front of the box as Devlin picked up the bottle of champagne. “For your information, I have not even told my brother yet.” A discussion she had been hoping to delay as long as possible, considering Daniel was annoyingly overprotective and certain to vehemently oppose a union between herself and such a notorious rake as Devlin. “I was hoping for a little more time to at least inform my family of the situation.”
Popping the cork, he began pouring the liquid into a crystal flute. “Did you still wish to attend Lord Crowley’s house party?”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“You shall not be attending unless everyone there knows you are engaged to me,” he said with certainty. “Are you wavering on the deal we made?” He finished filling the second flute and placed the bottle back into the chilled silver bucket.
“No, I am not,” Sophie replied in a harsh whisper, mindful of the eyes and ears still trained on them. “I merely would have liked to have been consulted first. That is what a marriage is all about, you know, as sharing a life with one another general involves discussing things.”
Devlin swiveled around to face her. “How was your visit with the Earl?”
“There was no visit. He had to cancel.” She could not be sure, but she thought she saw a flicker of satisfaction flash across his eyes. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
“What a devious mind you have. Here, have a glass of champagne.” Shaking his head, he handed her a flute and picked up the other for himself.
She accepted the glass from him. “So you did not have anything to do with the Earl having to cancel his visit?”
“I told you I did not wish for you to see him.”
Sophie felt her temper begin to rise. “And I told you that you could not dictate to me whom I see or do not see.”
“You are to be my wife. I did not think it appropriate for another man to visit you.” He sounded extremely calm. “I did what I had to.”
“And what exactly was that?”
“Actually, I did nothing. I believe Lord Penderley urgently requested the Earl’s presence at the War Office.”
“At your behest, no doubt?”
He shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“Of all the devious things,” Sophie ground out. “How dare you act so presumptuous with matters concerning me?”
“Here, I think it best if you give me your glass,” he said, reaching across and plucking the flute of champagne from her hand. He placed both glasses on the side table. “There, now at the very least you cannot do something you might regret.”
“Such as smash the flute over your head?” She placed her hands on her hips.
“Actually, I was thinking you would throw the contents in my face. Must admit I had not thought you would consider doing such an unladylike thing as hitting me with it. Rather violent of you, is it not?” He winked at her.
If there had not been hundreds of people with their opera glasses trained on Devlin’s box right that instant, Sophie thought she might very well have carried out her threat, simply to get rid of that annoying grin.
“Well, you had best get used to not knowing what I might do,” she said. “And you’d do well to remember that you do not know me as you seem to think.”
“True,” he conceded, “there is much about you I am beginning to discover, and do let me say that I am enjoying the process immensely.”
“Well, I am so glad to be of some amusement to you. But know this, Huntington,” she said. “I will not allow you to dictate my life to me. You may very well not like whom I associate with, but if you interfere in an engagement of mine again, simply to prevent me from speaking with someone you do not wish me to, trust me that you will rue the day that you decided to ask me to marry you!”
“Something to look forward to, no doubt.”
“I am serious,” she said. “You meddle again like you did today, and I give you due warning that you will not like the consequences.”