Read Online The Temporary Betrothal by Lily George - Free Book Online
Authors: Lily George
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her eyes
danced with merriment. “Even though you are well acquainted with the twists and
turns of Bath, I would be delighted to walk you back home.”
One of the veterans guffawed, but then tried to disguise it as
a sudden cough. Charlie looked with daggers at the man, willing him to stay
quiet. So he wasn’t well schooled in the art of flirtation. What did that
matter? He was just...answering her in like tone. That was all.
Sophie’s eyelids fluttered down over her brilliant blue eyes,
and a slight flush stained her cheeks. “That would be lovely.” She dipped a
slight curtsy. “I’ll go see what the widows might require.”
He worked the rest of the morning with a curious lightness in
his heart. As before, when he made Sophie’s acquaintance, all his problems
seemed insignificant. He practiced how he would tell her about his latest
missive from Mother, how he would reenact her stern warnings, her dire
predictions. And she would laugh that silvery laugh—it reminded one of bells
tinkling. And he wouldn’t feel so blasted alone any longer. So while he helped
each man who turned to him, finding sources for clothing, or offering food, or
locating shelter, his mind remained firmly fixed on Sophie Handley as she toiled
away in the back of the church.
It may have been a kind of sin, but he couldn’t shake his mind
free.
As they left, she took his arm. “What a pleasant morning,
Lieutenant. You know, I think what the women need most is clothing. Not just for
themselves, but for their children. I wonder if we could have some sort of
sewing bee, where we all join together and sew as a group. Wouldn’t that be a
practical solution?”
His mind was drifting again, fixating on her pretty profile
rather than her sensible words. He forced himself to pay attention. “Yes, of
course.”
“You seem distracted again,” she chided in a cheerful tone.
“Pray, what has claimed your interest this morning?”
Ah, now was his chance. “Another letter from home. My mother
intends to come to Bath in a fortnight and bring me to heel,” he began, aping an
aggrieved tone of voice, but was cut short by Sophie’s stifled gasp.
“Your family! Oh, Lieutenant, I beg your forgiveness. I
promised to come up with a solution to your problem, but I got so engrossed in
Amelia’s debut that I forgot.” She darted her glance up to his, and he forced
himself to allow his breathing to remain steady. Having her so close and so
engaged in conversation was a heady experience. But then, of course, he would
feel that way around any pretty gel. It was just that he had set himself apart
from women for so long after his broken engagement to Beth Gaskell.
“Don’t trouble yourself.” He cleared his throat, forcing the
words through his lips. Why was it so hard to even speak when she looked at him
that way?
“Nay, I shall trouble myself. If your mother is coming, then
the problem is reaching a crisis stage, I daresay.” She steered him back down
the sidewalk, and they ambled past the shops, which buzzed with activity. “I’ve
given it some thought. I believe that if you at least give the appearance of
going along with their wishes, your mother will leave you in peace. In other
words, we must strike a compromise. Do you agree?”
That sounded sensible enough. He nodded. “Yes, but what would
the compromise be?”
She patted him with her gloved fingertips, and he steeled
himself so he wouldn’t feel a tingle racing up his biceps, as he always did when
she touched him. “Leave that to me, Lieutenant. Tomorrow I promise to have a
solution to your problem. Once and for all.”
They strolled the rest of the way to Lord Bradbury’s in a state
of friendly companionship. He meant it all as a joke, of course. Sophie Handley
didn’t have to come to his rescue. He didn’t really need her help handling
Mother. But there was tremendous gratification in knowing that, for the next
several hours, he would be topmost in her mind.
Why that was so
danced with merriment. “Even though you are well acquainted with the twists and
turns of Bath, I would be delighted to walk you back home.”
One of the veterans guffawed, but then tried to disguise it as
a sudden cough. Charlie looked with daggers at the man, willing him to stay
quiet. So he wasn’t well schooled in the art of flirtation. What did that
matter? He was just...answering her in like tone. That was all.
Sophie’s eyelids fluttered down over her brilliant blue eyes,
and a slight flush stained her cheeks. “That would be lovely.” She dipped a
slight curtsy. “I’ll go see what the widows might require.”
He worked the rest of the morning with a curious lightness in
his heart. As before, when he made Sophie’s acquaintance, all his problems
seemed insignificant. He practiced how he would tell her about his latest
missive from Mother, how he would reenact her stern warnings, her dire
predictions. And she would laugh that silvery laugh—it reminded one of bells
tinkling. And he wouldn’t feel so blasted alone any longer. So while he helped
each man who turned to him, finding sources for clothing, or offering food, or
locating shelter, his mind remained firmly fixed on Sophie Handley as she toiled
away in the back of the church.
It may have been a kind of sin, but he couldn’t shake his mind
free.
As they left, she took his arm. “What a pleasant morning,
Lieutenant. You know, I think what the women need most is clothing. Not just for
themselves, but for their children. I wonder if we could have some sort of
sewing bee, where we all join together and sew as a group. Wouldn’t that be a
practical solution?”
His mind was drifting again, fixating on her pretty profile
rather than her sensible words. He forced himself to pay attention. “Yes, of
course.”
“You seem distracted again,” she chided in a cheerful tone.
“Pray, what has claimed your interest this morning?”
Ah, now was his chance. “Another letter from home. My mother
intends to come to Bath in a fortnight and bring me to heel,” he began, aping an
aggrieved tone of voice, but was cut short by Sophie’s stifled gasp.
“Your family! Oh, Lieutenant, I beg your forgiveness. I
promised to come up with a solution to your problem, but I got so engrossed in
Amelia’s debut that I forgot.” She darted her glance up to his, and he forced
himself to allow his breathing to remain steady. Having her so close and so
engaged in conversation was a heady experience. But then, of course, he would
feel that way around any pretty gel. It was just that he had set himself apart
from women for so long after his broken engagement to Beth Gaskell.
“Don’t trouble yourself.” He cleared his throat, forcing the
words through his lips. Why was it so hard to even speak when she looked at him
that way?
“Nay, I shall trouble myself. If your mother is coming, then
the problem is reaching a crisis stage, I daresay.” She steered him back down
the sidewalk, and they ambled past the shops, which buzzed with activity. “I’ve
given it some thought. I believe that if you at least give the appearance of
going along with their wishes, your mother will leave you in peace. In other
words, we must strike a compromise. Do you agree?”
That sounded sensible enough. He nodded. “Yes, but what would
the compromise be?”
She patted him with her gloved fingertips, and he steeled
himself so he wouldn’t feel a tingle racing up his biceps, as he always did when
she touched him. “Leave that to me, Lieutenant. Tomorrow I promise to have a
solution to your problem. Once and for all.”
They strolled the rest of the way to Lord Bradbury’s in a state
of friendly companionship. He meant it all as a joke, of course. Sophie Handley
didn’t have to come to his rescue. He didn’t really need her help handling
Mother. But there was tremendous gratification in knowing that, for the next
several hours, he would be topmost in her mind.
Why that was so
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