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Authors: Alexandra Benedict
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attached to the captain.
Sophia had a biting impulse to gut the ruthless brigand as soon as she saw him. Did the earl suspect her smitten with the marauding rogue? He might have sensed the friction between her and Black Hawk on the dance floor. Had he mistaken it for passion?
“And yet I pity you, Miss Dawson.” Anastasia sipped her fruit juice with poise. “To be the object of interest to such a barbarian? How you must suffer!”
“The captain is a beast,” Rosamond was quick to assent. “I don’t know why Max befriended him.”
Sophia glanced at the pert chit. She wasn’t accustomed to keeping her feelings, her ideas, even her impulses in check. But she didn’t want to make a social blunder. She had already wooed disaster when she had danced with the pirate captain at the ball. She didn’t want to make another faux pas. She didn’t want to side with the brigand and make it seem like she was smitten with the rogue.
Sophia suspected the snooty Anastasia would jump on that tidbit of gossip and ruin her prospects before sundown. And the captain was a barbarian. Sophia wholly endorsed the claim herself. However, his invitation to the house party was at the behest of Lady Rosamond. What had provoked the girl’s scorn? Sophia didn’t know. And she didn’t want to antagonize the earl’s sister by making unsolicited inquiries. She might need Rosamond’s support to win the earl’s hand. She didn’t want to make an enemy of the chit.
“Then it’s true?” said Anastasia. “The barbarian is coming to the picnic?”
“Yes,” returned Rosamond tersely. “And he’s going to stay with us for a few days.”
Anastasia made a moue before she shifted her cutting regard to Sophia again. “Why did you dance with the barbarian, Miss Dawson? I would have feigned an injury to my ankle.”
Imogen lowered her gaze and stared at the picnic blanket in discomfort.
Sophia took in a firm breath. “He is the earl’s friend, as Lady Rosamond remarked.” James was nothing of the sort, but if Rosamond wanted to perpetuate the fib for some obscure reason, Sophia was going to let her. “It would have been rude to refuse him.”
“That is just what I thought.” Rosamond smiled. “You are too kind, Miss Dawson.”
Anastasia sniffed. “Yes, very charitable.”
Imogen lifted the plate of pastries. “More scones, ladies?”
Sophia was breathless and needed a moment to compose herself. She lifted to her shaky feet. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I think I’ll go for a walk. The grounds here are so lovely.”
Rosamond beamed with pride.
“You shouldn’t spend so much time in the sun, Miss Dawson. You’re positively brown!” Anastasia offered her something frilly. “Here. Take my parasol.”
Sophia claimed the gift and mustered a courteous “You’re too kind, Miss Bedford.”
She quietly removed herself from the picnic. As she crossed the arched bridge and approached the woods, she resisted the impulse to toss the parasol into the bush. She jabbed the pristine tip into the dirt path instead, using it as a walking stick.
Sophia glanced down at her hands. She wasn’t brown. She wasn’t even tanned…She examined her fingers more closely. The skin looked a little dirty. She wiped her hand against her dress, but the soft glow was still there.
She grimaced. It might be the shade from the foliage making her flesh seem darker than it really was. But then she enjoyed the sun’s warm rays. And she had deep brown hair and eyes. She wasn’t fair like Rosamond and the other two ladies. Perhaps she wasn’t so very pale, after all?
She intended to talk to Lady Lucas about the matter. There might be a cream or a powder she could apply to soften her complexion and make it more attractive. She had even heard lemon juice mixed with brandy and milk created a bleach for the skin. She would have to experiment.
Sophia needed to cool her temper—and her toes. The inviting pitter of the water lured her to the stream’s intimate shores, and
Sophia had a biting impulse to gut the ruthless brigand as soon as she saw him. Did the earl suspect her smitten with the marauding rogue? He might have sensed the friction between her and Black Hawk on the dance floor. Had he mistaken it for passion?
“And yet I pity you, Miss Dawson.” Anastasia sipped her fruit juice with poise. “To be the object of interest to such a barbarian? How you must suffer!”
“The captain is a beast,” Rosamond was quick to assent. “I don’t know why Max befriended him.”
Sophia glanced at the pert chit. She wasn’t accustomed to keeping her feelings, her ideas, even her impulses in check. But she didn’t want to make a social blunder. She had already wooed disaster when she had danced with the pirate captain at the ball. She didn’t want to make another faux pas. She didn’t want to side with the brigand and make it seem like she was smitten with the rogue.
Sophia suspected the snooty Anastasia would jump on that tidbit of gossip and ruin her prospects before sundown. And the captain was a barbarian. Sophia wholly endorsed the claim herself. However, his invitation to the house party was at the behest of Lady Rosamond. What had provoked the girl’s scorn? Sophia didn’t know. And she didn’t want to antagonize the earl’s sister by making unsolicited inquiries. She might need Rosamond’s support to win the earl’s hand. She didn’t want to make an enemy of the chit.
“Then it’s true?” said Anastasia. “The barbarian is coming to the picnic?”
“Yes,” returned Rosamond tersely. “And he’s going to stay with us for a few days.”
Anastasia made a moue before she shifted her cutting regard to Sophia again. “Why did you dance with the barbarian, Miss Dawson? I would have feigned an injury to my ankle.”
Imogen lowered her gaze and stared at the picnic blanket in discomfort.
Sophia took in a firm breath. “He is the earl’s friend, as Lady Rosamond remarked.” James was nothing of the sort, but if Rosamond wanted to perpetuate the fib for some obscure reason, Sophia was going to let her. “It would have been rude to refuse him.”
“That is just what I thought.” Rosamond smiled. “You are too kind, Miss Dawson.”
Anastasia sniffed. “Yes, very charitable.”
Imogen lifted the plate of pastries. “More scones, ladies?”
Sophia was breathless and needed a moment to compose herself. She lifted to her shaky feet. “If you will excuse me, ladies, I think I’ll go for a walk. The grounds here are so lovely.”
Rosamond beamed with pride.
“You shouldn’t spend so much time in the sun, Miss Dawson. You’re positively brown!” Anastasia offered her something frilly. “Here. Take my parasol.”
Sophia claimed the gift and mustered a courteous “You’re too kind, Miss Bedford.”
She quietly removed herself from the picnic. As she crossed the arched bridge and approached the woods, she resisted the impulse to toss the parasol into the bush. She jabbed the pristine tip into the dirt path instead, using it as a walking stick.
Sophia glanced down at her hands. She wasn’t brown. She wasn’t even tanned…She examined her fingers more closely. The skin looked a little dirty. She wiped her hand against her dress, but the soft glow was still there.
She grimaced. It might be the shade from the foliage making her flesh seem darker than it really was. But then she enjoyed the sun’s warm rays. And she had deep brown hair and eyes. She wasn’t fair like Rosamond and the other two ladies. Perhaps she wasn’t so very pale, after all?
She intended to talk to Lady Lucas about the matter. There might be a cream or a powder she could apply to soften her complexion and make it more attractive. She had even heard lemon juice mixed with brandy and milk created a bleach for the skin. She would have to experiment.
Sophia needed to cool her temper—and her toes. The inviting pitter of the water lured her to the stream’s intimate shores, and
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