Read Online Karen Harbaugh by A Special License - Free Book Online
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she is, thought Sophia.
The maid approached with the chocolate, but Sophia rose and murmured a demure but obviously false excuse about needing to use the necessary, then followed the woman up the stairs.
Richard’s eyes followed his sister’s departure with dread. He closed his eyes for a moment. I do not care, he murmured to himself. She is only answering a call of nature, and is only going a different way. In fact, she isn’t even my sister, I don’t know her, she is only some girl who happened to be in the same coach and the same inn. This wistful but thoroughly wild flight of fancy soothed him somewhat. He resolutely returned his gaze out the window, as if the coming and going of coaches were his sole interest in life.
Sophia went up the stairs, in time to see a swath of black skirt disappear to the left. Close! Eagerly she rounded the corner and—
Came face to face with Lord Rothwick. “My lord!” gasped Sophia. The earl had just closed the door directly next to the stairs. An unreadable expression crossed his face, and then he smiled genially. Sophia felt the flicker of pique she usually did whenever she met her fiancé. For some reason she had always thought there was something she could not—ah, such an unpleasant word!—control in him. Perhaps it was that she could never tell what he was thinking. She could not quite pin him down, or always make him do as she wished, and this irritated her.
“Sophia! A pleasant surprise,” said Rothwick, bringing her hand to his lips. There was nothing in his voice to belie his words, but Sophia was uneasy. She was curious about his presence in this inn, for he had made no mention to her about removing from London the last time they had met; but for the first time she did not want to find out more than what appeared on the surface. It would be so—so untidy, said a voice in the back of her mind, to find out more. She ignored it.
“Most certainly, dear William,” she murmured coyly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I had no idea you were removing from London. What brings you here?”
“I had heard the hunting was particularly good, and since I have a hunting box not far from here, I thought I should take advantage of it.” He took her arm. “But come, perhaps you would like some refreshment.” He started to lead her back down the stairs.
The door behind them creaked, and instinctively Sophia turned to look. A young woman—no, lady, her assessing mind told her unwillingly—emerged from the room Rothwick had just quitted. “Lord Rothwick, I thought you would already be—” The lady caught sight of his lordship’s companion, faltered, stopped, and blushed.
An exasperated, half-angry look flashed across Rothwick’s face, but then he sighed. “Sophia, may I present to you Miss Linnea Amberley. She is Lady Boothe’s cousin, and a friend to Susan, my niece. I am escorting her to my sister Lydia’s home.”
Sophia did not believe this for one minute. Was she not au courant of all the foibles of the ton? And had not Rothwick’s name been linked, however vaguely, with various ladies of the demimonde? But all that was to be done with—for after all, were they not betrothed? It seemed Rothwick did not think so. For the first time in her life, all of Sophia’s practiced poise deserted her. She stood staring at the woman before her, numb with the realization that a man could actually prefer another besides herself, the beautiful, charming, irresistible Sophia!
The numbness faded quickly, however, for Sophia was nothing if not self-preserving. She looked at Linnea and knew with all the predatory female’s instinct that she must take action swiftly, so Rothwick would realize his mistake.
Sophia gazed at Rothwick with eyes melting in sorrow. “Oh, Rothwick! How could you!” She lifted a gloved finger and delicately touched it to her eyelashes. “And we just recently betrothed!”
Rothwick made as if to move toward her, but Linnea was before him.
The maid approached with the chocolate, but Sophia rose and murmured a demure but obviously false excuse about needing to use the necessary, then followed the woman up the stairs.
Richard’s eyes followed his sister’s departure with dread. He closed his eyes for a moment. I do not care, he murmured to himself. She is only answering a call of nature, and is only going a different way. In fact, she isn’t even my sister, I don’t know her, she is only some girl who happened to be in the same coach and the same inn. This wistful but thoroughly wild flight of fancy soothed him somewhat. He resolutely returned his gaze out the window, as if the coming and going of coaches were his sole interest in life.
Sophia went up the stairs, in time to see a swath of black skirt disappear to the left. Close! Eagerly she rounded the corner and—
Came face to face with Lord Rothwick. “My lord!” gasped Sophia. The earl had just closed the door directly next to the stairs. An unreadable expression crossed his face, and then he smiled genially. Sophia felt the flicker of pique she usually did whenever she met her fiancé. For some reason she had always thought there was something she could not—ah, such an unpleasant word!—control in him. Perhaps it was that she could never tell what he was thinking. She could not quite pin him down, or always make him do as she wished, and this irritated her.
“Sophia! A pleasant surprise,” said Rothwick, bringing her hand to his lips. There was nothing in his voice to belie his words, but Sophia was uneasy. She was curious about his presence in this inn, for he had made no mention to her about removing from London the last time they had met; but for the first time she did not want to find out more than what appeared on the surface. It would be so—so untidy, said a voice in the back of her mind, to find out more. She ignored it.
“Most certainly, dear William,” she murmured coyly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I had no idea you were removing from London. What brings you here?”
“I had heard the hunting was particularly good, and since I have a hunting box not far from here, I thought I should take advantage of it.” He took her arm. “But come, perhaps you would like some refreshment.” He started to lead her back down the stairs.
The door behind them creaked, and instinctively Sophia turned to look. A young woman—no, lady, her assessing mind told her unwillingly—emerged from the room Rothwick had just quitted. “Lord Rothwick, I thought you would already be—” The lady caught sight of his lordship’s companion, faltered, stopped, and blushed.
An exasperated, half-angry look flashed across Rothwick’s face, but then he sighed. “Sophia, may I present to you Miss Linnea Amberley. She is Lady Boothe’s cousin, and a friend to Susan, my niece. I am escorting her to my sister Lydia’s home.”
Sophia did not believe this for one minute. Was she not au courant of all the foibles of the ton? And had not Rothwick’s name been linked, however vaguely, with various ladies of the demimonde? But all that was to be done with—for after all, were they not betrothed? It seemed Rothwick did not think so. For the first time in her life, all of Sophia’s practiced poise deserted her. She stood staring at the woman before her, numb with the realization that a man could actually prefer another besides herself, the beautiful, charming, irresistible Sophia!
The numbness faded quickly, however, for Sophia was nothing if not self-preserving. She looked at Linnea and knew with all the predatory female’s instinct that she must take action swiftly, so Rothwick would realize his mistake.
Sophia gazed at Rothwick with eyes melting in sorrow. “Oh, Rothwick! How could you!” She lifted a gloved finger and delicately touched it to her eyelashes. “And we just recently betrothed!”
Rothwick made as if to move toward her, but Linnea was before him.
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