Badcock (7 page)

“Lord Stafford,” Lady Huntingdon greeted him gleefully. “It’s so delightful to see you again. It’s been nearly a year, hasn’t it? Meet Lord
Wisbech
and
his
fiancée, Miss Sophia
Astley
.”

Sophia shook. Heat crept into her cheeks and the back of her neck. She’d resigned herself to the fact that she would never see him again but, dear Lord, here he stood, looking, impossibly, more handsome than she remembered.

Every touch, every kiss, every taboo deed washed back over her in warm remembrance as she drank in the sight of his loosely queued dark hair, that sensual set of his mouth, his broad shoulders delineated by the perfect cut of his frock coat, and lower—oh, she dared not look in that direction lest she swoon.

Her heartbeat pounded with relentless force in her ears.

Lord Stafford nodded his head curtly. A mask descended over his features but Sophia did not miss the black look he gave their hostess.

Ralph made small talk while Sophia tried to keep from fainting. Her knees threatened to give way at any moment. The meal she’d eaten right before dressing churned in her stomach. Her mind ran rampant and she could not control the direction of her thoughts.

Memories of the two torrid days, naked in his arms, surged along with a riot of emotions that made her want to scream and run from the room.

Excitement reigned. He was here! He was real after all. And infinitely more gorgeous than she remembered. Taller even. His lips—she leaned forward ever so slightly as if magnetically drawn to him. To kiss him once more…

And then, bleakly, she thought, he’d never been a highwayman at all. He’d lied to her. He’d abducted her and had taken advantage of her.

Her fantasies crumbled into dust at her feet as common sense rallied.

He’d lied. He’d lied.

Sophia clenched her fists at her sides. Her gaze flicked to Ralph then back to Lady Huntingdon. Could everyone see how badly she trembled? Was her face flaming red?

Did
he
know what effect he had on her?

“Sophia, you’re not looking well,” Lady Huntingdon warbled.

“I-I…” she stammered.

“Perhaps you should get the lady some refreshment,” Lord Stafford said, his gaze barely grazing hers.

That voice.
She’d dreamed of it. She’d fantasized about hearing the black velvet sound of it whispering words of lust, of love in her ear. His eyes. Sophia blinked. She had to look away. She had to get out of this man’s presence before she gave herself away.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Ralph said with a nod as he half-dragged Sophia across the ballroom toward the refreshment table.

Don’t look back. Don’t look back.

But she did.

It was a mistake.

Lord Stafford laughed and smiled at Lord and Lady Huntingdon as if he had not a care in creation. It was as if she, Sophia, had never intruded into his life, as if he didn’t recognize her—as if she’d never experienced the most intimate moments of her life naked in his arms.

“You’ve heard the rumors, as well,” Ralph said.

Sophia gaped at Ralph. Did he know? Had he recognized Lord Stafford, too?

“Lord Stafford is the most reprehensible rake in all of England,” Ralph said, sneering at the man’s back.

“R-rake?”

“Surely you’ve heard,” Ralph said. “Before returning from abroad last year, he cultivated the most vile reputation. No man’s wife was safe in his presence and there was more than one maiden’s character despoiled by association with him.”

Sophia gulped. Bad Jack—Lord Stafford—had made her feel special. Adored. Her insides hollowed. He’d taken her virginity without any care of what she was risking. And that last time they’d been together…

The room started to spin around her. That last time, he’d filled her full of his seed and sent her packing like a used up scullery maid. At the time, she’d thought he was a highway robber. But now! Now that she knew he was a gentleman… She inhaled as deeply as she could in spite of her tightly laced corset.

She quaked with rage. Her hands ached to slap him.

The bastard!

Ralph pushed a glass of champagne into her hand. “Drink this. You’re starting to look peaked.”

Across the ballroom, Jack had a difficult time keeping his gaze away from the woman who’d just been introduced to him as
Sophia
Astley
. What the devil had happened? And here,
Elinor
chattered on as if nothing in the world were amiss. He felt trapped in his own skin. He desperately needed to talk to
Elinor
—and to Sophia.

She’d been genuinely stunned when she’d seen him.

His instincts had been right. He had abducted the wrong woman. Somehow,
Elinor
knew and seemed to be having a grand time of watching everyone squirm. He wanted to throttle her.

He wanted to throttle himself. How could he have been so stupid? He asked himself the question over and over even as a thousand justifications rose in his mind. He’d only seen
Elinor
in a mask. And that had been nearly a year ago!
Miss
Sophia
Astley
was no innocent rose. She’d climbed onto his horse without protest. She’d also climbed onto a good many other things without protest.

Furtively, he cut his gaze at her. She stood with her back to him, downing a glass of champagne as if it were water.

The memory of her straddling his lap and that first time he sank his cock into her sweet, creamy
cunny
flooded his thoughts. His prick swelled and he inhaled trying to dispel the lurid reminiscence.

Had she been a virgin, then? He recalled her face when he’d first entered her. Biting her bottom lip, she’d flinched but only for an instant.

Still…

What a colossal ass you were!
He rubbed his throbbing temples as more memories surfaced. She’d been hesitant to take him in her mouth initially but she’d quickly warmed to it. God, had she ever. New positions had caused her eyes to grow wide with wonder before swirling dark with desire.

And then there were the spankings and the nipple clamps…

He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
She must have been terrified out of her wits.

And yet, she’d responded. Her body had moved with a life and will of its own. She’d initiated sex with him. He glanced down at his burgeoning erection and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

He had to get her away from that fop of a fiancé so he could explain. He turned to
Elinor
. “I will speak with you later,” he said tersely. “Lord Huntingdon, always a pleasure.”

Elinor’s
laugh rang in his ears as he walked away.

He wished there were something stronger here to drink than champagne. His gaze riveted once more to Sophia. Blast! Why hadn’t she said something? Why hadn’t she declared herself a virgin?

An ugly memory settled in his head.

“I…I am a maiden!”

“And I am the lecher who will deflower you.”

He hadn’t believed her. He’d thought she was playing a part. He inhaled sharply. What now?

He looked at the man by her side. Lord
Wisbech
. Surely, everyone—including Lord
Wisbech
—had known Sophia had been disgraced. Jack wanted to retch when he recalled kissing her on the road right in front of the man.

But then, Ralph hadn’t exactly stood up for Sophia’s honor. In fact, he’d traded her for a ring. At the time, Jack had thought the man was a relative, perhaps a lover. If he’d known
Wisbech
was her fiancé and that he was willing to trade her virtue for a damned bauble, Jack would have put a bullet through the bastard’s cold heart.

Jack’s gaze drifted down her lace trimmed sleeves to the hand holding her champagne glass. She wasn’t wearing that damnable ring now. A murderous sense of possession welled in him that he quickly tamped down.

He reminded himself that he was engaged. So was she.

But another memory reared.
Sophia with her back against a tree, her skirts bunched up around her waist…

His gaze dropped to her narrow waist. He’d been reckless. Still, the thought of siring a child in her caused conflicting emotions to rise in him. Emotions that made him want to march through the merry line of dancers, take Sophia in his arms and claim her as his own. Then there was his cooler side. He tried to will that part of him to the forefront.

He’d lived a capricious life on the continent until his father’s death last year. Now he was the earl and with the title came vast responsibility, not only to his family name but to the many people who lived and worked the lands he controlled.

His engagement to Hilda von
Kesslering
would increase those holdings both in England and abroad as well as the Stafford bloodline.

If he were wise, he would leave this place. He would never speak to Sophia
Astley
again or interfere in her life.

But right now, Jack was far from doing what was wise.

The music stopped and a new quadrille was announced.
Wisbech
tugged at Sophia’s elbow. She shook her head no even as he wrenched the champagne glass from her hand and thrust it onto a nearby servant’s tray.

This was Jack’s chance. His gaze searched the sea of faces, stopping on a girl who smiled invitingly at him.
Ah, yes.
He started toward her. “Would you like to dance?” he asked gallantly.

She giggled as Jack took her hand and led her to the line. “Excuse me,” he said, wedging into the dancers so that his turn to dance with Sophia would come up soon. He stared at her. Tonight, she was dressed in a gown of pale yellow and cream. Her black hair had been coiffed loosely with two ringlets descending enticingly into her décolletage. She was magnificently dressed but her beauty could not compare to the sensual vision in his memory of her naked with her hair tumbling in disarray about her shoulders.

Her gaze caught his and she looked away quickly. A blush
pinkened
her lightly powdered chest. Jack did not look away. He watched her as he executed the steps of the dance, as he moved down the line with his partner, as he turned and stepped back.

Not a moment too soon, his turn came to dance with her. Her eyes grew wide as they came together and when she put her hand in his, a little shock jolted through him.

“Meet me on the terrace after this dance,” he said intimately.

The dictates of the dance left her no time to refuse.

Still greeting guests in the receiving line,
Elinor
gloated. It wouldn’t be long before the two lovers would chance a meeting. She’d watched how Jack had chosen his partner and even more carefully had chosen his position in line so that he could speak to Sophia.

How terribly sad it would be
, she thought with glee,
if Jack were to lose his German countess and Sophia were to lose her duke.

The dance ended and
Elinor’s
lips twisted into a smug smile as she watched Sophia
Astley
hurry toward the terrace doors.

* * * * *

Sophia’s heart thudded so hard against her rib cage, it hurt. She tried to breathe in the cool evening air. She willed herself to be calm. It was impossible.

She looked around the wide terrace. A couple spoke in hushed voices on one side. Steps led down into an immaculately manicured garden lit with festive paper lanterns.

Where was he?

She clutched the balustrade, leaning against it for support.

A noise in the shrubbery caught her attention and she looked up to find Jack. He motioned for her to come down and join him. She glanced over her shoulder to make certain no one was watching before she rushed down the steps and into the garden.

She shouldn’t be meeting him. She shouldn’t ever speak to him again. Not after what he’d done to her. He darted into a copse of trees and she followed. No one would see them here.

She was breathless by the time she caught up with him. He stopped and turned, standing an arm’s breadth away. The urge to rush into his embrace came over her in a deluge. She struggled to resist.

Panic quickly replaced her desire.

Gone was the look of lust from his eyes. Instead, he seemed stricken. Sad. Apologetic.

Sophia didn’t know what she had hoped for. A stolen kiss? A vow of love? Even a promise to see her again…

She sensed she would get none of that.

“Sophia, is it?” he asked.

She nodded thinking it strange that after everything that had happened between them, this was the first time she’d ever heard him utter her name.

“Do you mind if I call you Sophia?” he asked.

Love. Darling. Sweetheart. That’s what you called me before.
She shook her head and lowered her lashes. How could she still be so shy after everything that had happened between them? “You may call me Sophia.”

“First, I must apologize for what happened,” he said. “I…I thought you were someone else.”

“Lady Huntingdon?” Sophia asked, finding her voice. Why was her heart aching so badly? It wasn’t as if their relationship had been anything more than physical.

In reality, it had been a
mistake
.

He nodded. “Yes. I made a grievous error.”

Sophia didn’t know what to say. She wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, that those two days had been the most wonderful moments of her life but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

His forehead furrowed. “But…it appears as if…as if your marriage contract still stands.”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Are you…have you got your…”

“I’m not with child,” she said, casting her eyes down. She stared at the polished toes of his buckled shoes.

“Good,” he said. “Then…I suppose there’s no harm done.”

Her gaze collided with his once again. No harm done? Outrage infused her. No harm, indeed! Her reputation was all but destroyed. Her father had been forced to up her dowry so much he faced financial ruin. Sophia pursed her lips. She would now be married off to a man whom she did not love while the ghost of a highwayman who never really existed at all loomed in her fantasies.