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Authors: Michele Bekemeyer
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matter.” She let out a small, defeated laugh. “After seven years and surviving a scandal, I have not moved an inch.”
Andrew leaned forward and, against his better judgment, took her hand in his. “Perhaps you are further along than you think,” he said, his lids sliding closed against his will. Her scent teased his senses. “I know you worried about my return. Are you not encouraged that we have convinced the gossips all is forgiven?”
“I don’t give one fig what the gossips think.”
He shook his head, thinking about how damned stubborn she could be. “So, their scrutiny means nothing to you? I find that difficult to believe. I know you care for your reputation, or you wouldn't have worked so hard to rebuild it.” She shrugged, but did not deny it. A soft chuckle escaped him. “We have nothing left to prove. The next time we meet, this tension between us will be gone. ” If only he could convince himself it were true.
“But things will never be the same,” she whispered as her eyes met his. He nodded and she removed her hand, placing it underneath her free one. His point, he could see, was taken. The camaraderie they had shared in their youth would never return. At best, they would be passing acquaintances. “Am I to leave the room whenever you enter, then?” she asked, a bare hint of a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Not quite teasing, not quite serious, it was utterly arousing.
Taking the olive branch she presented, he offered a conciliatory smile of his own. “That will not be necessary, I am certain. I have complete confidence we can remain friendly while pursuing our individual goals.”
She chuckled. “All right then, Your Grace.”
Andrew , he thought, looking away.
“Let us let bygones be bygones.” He nodded in grim approval, attributing the tightness in his chest to the tension of the conversation. They rode silence for a few minutes more before the coach slowed to a halt. “Where are we?” she asked, peering through the window.
“A block away from the Alfred’s. Simon had your coach meet us so that you could return without suspicion. Unless you would prefer I drop you at the front steps?”
She laughed and the light sound caused every muscle in his body to clench tight. “I appreciate the gesture,” she said with a grateful smile.
The door opened and she bolted down the steps, making haste to her brother's conveyance. She entered without a backwards glance. As his carriage set into motion, Andrew leaned his head against the squabs, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to relax.
His driver’s instructions were clear. Follow to ensure Sophie arrived back to Lord and Lady Alfred’s, then head to White’s. There, Andrew would meet up with Simon to disclose the details of the conversation. It was the price Simon demanded for allowing the unchaperoned ride.
Andrew would leave out the part when they were close enough to kiss. And he definitely wouldn't mention how much he desired her. From now on, he would think of her as a nun or a mean-spirited governess with missing teeth and a wide berth. Especially since not thinking about her was going to be impossible.
Chapter Five
Sophie awoke the next morning at seven, an unusual hour for her. On a normal day, she rolled out of bed around ten and flitted around the house until after noon. Last night, she had tossed and turned, echoes of her and Andrew’s conversation drifting in and out of her head like a dissonant song. It was after one o’clock when she dozed off, only to be awakened a mere two hours later by a vivid dream that left her body warm and aching with a need she had never before experienced. Sleep, after that, was impossible.
She spent the next three hours at her escritoire, wading through invitations and catching up on correspondence. Once the shadow of the curtains began to stretch across the floor, she donned a light green sprigged muslin, pulled her hair into a quick knot and headed downstairs to break
Andrew leaned forward and, against his better judgment, took her hand in his. “Perhaps you are further along than you think,” he said, his lids sliding closed against his will. Her scent teased his senses. “I know you worried about my return. Are you not encouraged that we have convinced the gossips all is forgiven?”
“I don’t give one fig what the gossips think.”
He shook his head, thinking about how damned stubborn she could be. “So, their scrutiny means nothing to you? I find that difficult to believe. I know you care for your reputation, or you wouldn't have worked so hard to rebuild it.” She shrugged, but did not deny it. A soft chuckle escaped him. “We have nothing left to prove. The next time we meet, this tension between us will be gone. ” If only he could convince himself it were true.
“But things will never be the same,” she whispered as her eyes met his. He nodded and she removed her hand, placing it underneath her free one. His point, he could see, was taken. The camaraderie they had shared in their youth would never return. At best, they would be passing acquaintances. “Am I to leave the room whenever you enter, then?” she asked, a bare hint of a smile teasing the corners of her mouth. Not quite teasing, not quite serious, it was utterly arousing.
Taking the olive branch she presented, he offered a conciliatory smile of his own. “That will not be necessary, I am certain. I have complete confidence we can remain friendly while pursuing our individual goals.”
She chuckled. “All right then, Your Grace.”
Andrew , he thought, looking away.
“Let us let bygones be bygones.” He nodded in grim approval, attributing the tightness in his chest to the tension of the conversation. They rode silence for a few minutes more before the coach slowed to a halt. “Where are we?” she asked, peering through the window.
“A block away from the Alfred’s. Simon had your coach meet us so that you could return without suspicion. Unless you would prefer I drop you at the front steps?”
She laughed and the light sound caused every muscle in his body to clench tight. “I appreciate the gesture,” she said with a grateful smile.
The door opened and she bolted down the steps, making haste to her brother's conveyance. She entered without a backwards glance. As his carriage set into motion, Andrew leaned his head against the squabs, squeezing his eyes closed as he tried to relax.
His driver’s instructions were clear. Follow to ensure Sophie arrived back to Lord and Lady Alfred’s, then head to White’s. There, Andrew would meet up with Simon to disclose the details of the conversation. It was the price Simon demanded for allowing the unchaperoned ride.
Andrew would leave out the part when they were close enough to kiss. And he definitely wouldn't mention how much he desired her. From now on, he would think of her as a nun or a mean-spirited governess with missing teeth and a wide berth. Especially since not thinking about her was going to be impossible.
Chapter Five
Sophie awoke the next morning at seven, an unusual hour for her. On a normal day, she rolled out of bed around ten and flitted around the house until after noon. Last night, she had tossed and turned, echoes of her and Andrew’s conversation drifting in and out of her head like a dissonant song. It was after one o’clock when she dozed off, only to be awakened a mere two hours later by a vivid dream that left her body warm and aching with a need she had never before experienced. Sleep, after that, was impossible.
She spent the next three hours at her escritoire, wading through invitations and catching up on correspondence. Once the shadow of the curtains began to stretch across the floor, she donned a light green sprigged muslin, pulled her hair into a quick knot and headed downstairs to break
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