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With Sidney away on her honeymoon, Sophia found too much free time on her hands. It was too quiet. She read all the new novels at the bookstore, even reread her hidden treasures. Something she should have resisted, but she couldn’t forget, was the memory of Sheffield’s kisses. Thoughts of him consumed her day and night. The nights were the worst. Her passionate dreams would awaken her, and she would lay frustrated that her desires would go unsatisfied. It didn't help that every ball or musical she attended, he was present. Gossip spread among the ton about his search for a bride. Whenever their paths crossed, he offered a courteous acknowledgment. They shared no conversations, no dances, and were never alone. Which only made Sophia yearn for him more. At least, when they were arguing, it gave her a reason to hate him. Since he displayed a polite indifference, it must mean he never thought of her the same way she did him.
As Sophia sat surrounded by a circle of friends, their gossip floating over her head, she noticed him. He was being introduced to Lady Dallis MacPherson. After he secured a dance with the new beauty, he joined a group of gentlemen where he shared a drink as they talked. When the musicians began to play, he approached Lady Dallis to escort her onto the dance floor. Sophia watched as they glided through the set.
As her friends’ gossip turned into whispers, she heard Sheffield’s name mentioned. Her ears perked to the conversation as her eyes traced their steps. The discussion revealed Sheffield’s plans on pursuing Lady Dallis’s hand. He wanted her to be his duchess. But there were other rumors floating around with his infatuation of a miss named Violet. Nobody knew Violet’s identity, and they were curious as to what kind of beauty drew the duke’s attention enough to announce his interest. Whoever this woman was, every available lady in the ton was jealous. Sophia's heart sunk even deeper. Not only was he courting Dallis with a waltz, he was enamored of another beauty. It was hopeless. Sophia rose from her chair. She could no longer watch or listen to whispers of Sheffield. She took her leave and wandered to the balcony.
As she leaned over the railing gazing at the stars, she felt a gentle nudge against her ribs. When she glanced to her side, it was to see her friend Lord Rory Beckwith. He smiled at her, wagging his eyebrows to bring a smile to her face. She gifted him with a small one as she turned back to the stars. Soon one shot across the sky.
“Make a wish,” Rory said.
Phee closed her eyes. The wish she made would never come true, but that was what wishes were for. Dreams of the deepest possibilities mixed with magic.
“Well?”
“You are not supposed to utter your wishes, or they won’t come true.”
“Why so sad, Phee?”
“I am not sad, Rory.”
“I know I am not Sidney, but we have been friends long enough for me to realize when you are troubled.”
“’Tis nothing.”
“Nothing as in, you will not confide in me?”
“Nothing as in I’m not quite sure. I feel lost. Does that make any sense?”
“A little. It’s different without Sid, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose that must be what it is.”
“Shall we take a ride in the park tomorrow? We can even feed the ducks, if you wish.”
“I would like that very much, Rory. An outing is just the thing I need.”
“Excellent. Now, shall we dance?”
Sophia laughed. She could always count on Rory to pull her out of her doldrums. Next to Sidney he was another great friend. With him she could be herself and never worry. Not only a friend, he was also like a brother to her and Sidney. He protected them and looked out for their safety.
“Yes. Thank you, my lord.”
“My pleasure, my lady.”
Before they could enter the ballroom Sheffield and Lady Dallis were coming their way. The duke maneuvered the redhead beauty off the dance floor and onto the balcony. Rory tugged Sophia aside and drew her behind a potted plant, hiding them. They stared as Dallis pulled herself out of Sheffield’s grasp and slapped him across the face. However, she wasn’t finished as she continued with a rather long lecture of his boorish behavior and threatened him with unsavory actions. Her Scottish brogue emphasizing how she would hang him by his bollocks if he ever so much as spoke to her again. Sophia tried not to laugh at the exchange. But the devil in her gave into a fit of giggles revealing their hiding place. She was not the only one, for Rory held onto his side with laughter.
Rory said, “I better rescue the lass, before the crowd inside notices this scene. I will return for our dance shortly.”
Phee couldn’t stop giggling as she nodded. By now tears flowed from her eyes at her enjoyment.
Rory approached Lady Dallis. “Excuse me. May I escort you to your grandmother, miss?”
She gave him a thin smile. “Mmm, look, a gentleman in London. Observe and learn, Your Grace, on how a gentleman should treat a lady. Yes, you may kind sir.”
Rory held in his pleasure as the mere girl handed Sheffield a critique on his manners. He took hold of the young lady’s hand and re-entered the ballroom. Sophia was forgotten as Rory became entranced by the beauty’s spell. Lady Dallis's voice soaked inside him and made Rory feel as if he had finally come home.
“Oh, your charm knows no bounds, Sheffield.” Sophia continued to giggle.
Sheffield’s temper hung by a thin thread. To be slapped, yelled, and now giggled at, set him in a fine mood. For two weeks he'd displayed common courtesy toward Sophia Turlington. While avoiding her at social functions, he was able to keep his irritation toward her in check. He even treated her with a polite manner when they came into contact. Now, as she stood before him laughing at his expense, he wanted to hurt her.
Later, after he had a few drinks, he would realize she was not at fault for his foul mood. He was frustrated in the search for the perfect duchess and Belle’s avoidance on the subject of Violet. His two-week threat ended this evening. His one chance with Lady Dallis resulted in disaster and there would be no Violet—an infatuation that had become an obsession over those past few weeks. An obsession he needed to part with.
For now, Lady Sophia would pay the price for his temper.
He grabbed and pushed her into the dark shadows. He should have stopped when her giggles turned into a gasp. But her lips tempted him as she licked them. It was more than he could bear.
“I see time has not curbed your tongue any. Let me see if I can help,” he whispered.
He hungrily kissed his annoyance on her lips. Instead of fighting him off and yelling to bring attention their way, she opened her mouth beneath his. When she slid her hands around his neck and returned his kiss in full, he forgot any good intentions. His abstinence from sex for the last couple of months aggravated him, and for some unknown reason Sophia Turlington was becoming another distraction. His anger toward her always sent Sheffield to this edge. An edge to jump off and take her with him. What further confused him was how he felt the same connection toward Lady Sophia that he did with Violet. Maybe it was the innocence Sophia held that reminded him of his violet-eyed temptress? They had many similarities, which only fueled his desires.
Finally, he was kissing her. Sophia knew it was wrong and should protest. She thought it would never happen again. She no longer cared if they were caught. Her lips opened under his, begging for more. Their tongues performed a dangerous dance as their passion grew higher. When his hands raised her skirt and brushed across her core, she moaned into his mouth and pressed herself into his hand, whimpering. She needed his touch. Her body ached for anything from him. When his finger slid inside and stroked, her knees buckled. He caught her as he continued the pleasure on her body. He stroked faster as his kiss went beyond frustration to need.
My god, she felt like heaven. His finger found a rhythm inside her wet mound, his thumb flicking across her clit. He captured her moans inside his mouth as he ravaged her lips. Each kiss hungry for more. She was fulfilling a need in him that he didn't realize he craved. When he sent her flying over the edge, Sheffield felt complete. She satisfied his ache for the moment. He knew he needed more, but not with her. While he sampled her delights, he would not trap himself with Lady Sophia. He pulled away from her as she sagged against the brick wall. Her eyes huge as she gasped for air. He lowered her skirt and stepped back. He slid his finger inside his mouth licking off the taste of her, still hungry. Her eyes grew larger, displaying her innocence toward his act. Then he laughed at her.
“Mmm. Yes, I seemed to have silenced you into submission.” With those parting words, he strolled away.
Sophia couldn’t recall how she made it through the rest of the evening. Somehow, she repaired her dress and hair in the darkness. Then she found her mother and pleaded a headache. As she lay in bed replaying their time in the shadows, she couldn't even begin to understand Sheffield. When he kissed and caressed her, she felt a sense of them as one. But when he spoke, he was a brute. Her feelings were a conflicted mess. The longer she replayed his final words, the more anger took hold. Silenced into submission? We shall see about that, Alexander Langley.