Chapter 16
“May I escort you to dinner, my lady?” Nicholas extended his arm to Sophie and was pleased when she accepted it. She swayed closer to him, bringing the now familiar scent of spring flowers with her.
Her body brushed his, and it was all he could do not to wrap his arm around her and draw her to his side. She was so tempting. So warm and soft and utterly delicious.
His own body started to react, and he clamped his back teeth together and willed his cock to behave itself.
She isn’t for you.
Unfortunately, it had been a while since he’d taken a lover, and his body was making it very clear that Sophie would be perfect for the role. His stupid cock didn’t know that Sophie was an unmarried lady of good social standing and therefore completely beyond his reach.
It just wanted her.
He escorted her to the long table in the formal dining room, pulled out her chair, and claimed the seat beside her. Baron Sylvestor—that smug bastard—sat opposite.
“Did you hear about the lovely pond that we found while hunting this morning?” the baron asked Sophie.
She nodded. “I did hear mention of it.”
“It was quite large,” the baron continued enthusiastically.
“Not much smaller than a modest lake. According to Trevor, it’s actually on Bigsby's land rather than the earl’s, and that’s why I haven’t seen it before.
Bigsby has graciously agreed to let us make use of his property for the duration of the house party. ”
Bigsby was probably ecstatic at the idea of making so many high society connections. Perhaps Nicholas should be more charitable, but he remembered how the man had looked at Sophie.
The baron kept his gaze on Sophie. “There were wildflowers growing in the area and a small jetty with a rowboat. We didn’t have time to take the boat out, but I’d love to go back there. Perhaps you could accompany me sometime?”
“If the spot is that scenic, maybe a group outing is an order,” Nicholas suggested, earning a glare from the usually sunny baron.
“What a lovely idea!” Lady Carlisle exclaimed. “I’m not much for walking, but I’m sure the younger members of the party would enjoy that.”
Trevor, who was seated beside the baron, cleared his throat. “The pond is home to a fascinating species of water lily not found in many other places. We’re lucky to have such a prime example of that particular Nymphaea subspecies so close to home.”
“How intriguing.” To Sophie’s credit, she looked as though she meant it. “Do you study water lilies, my lord?”
Trevor glanced around, apparently realizing belatedly that several pairs of eyes were now on him. He colored. “Oh, no. I couldn’t claim to be a scholar. I’m simply a hobbyist.”
“Don’t be so humble, Trev,” Baron Sylvestor said. Turning to Sophie, he added, “He’s published several academic treatises in the area of botany, although he tends to specialize in the species that we cultivate for food.”
Trevor ducked his head as if embarrassed by his accomplishments. “It’s a trifling matter.”
“It’s very impressive,” Nicholas said, though he hated to agree with the baron on any matter. “I doubt anyone else at this table has published an academic treatise.”
“I certainly have not.” Sophie laughed. “And you, Baron Sylvestor? Are you secretly an academic?”
“Alas, I couldn’t possibly claim to be so.” The baron grinned to himself, obviously pleased to be teased by the woman he was pursuing.
It grated, and Nicholas wasn’t even sure why.
“What is your area of interest, then?” Nicholas asked, unable to help himself. “Do you participate in the arts or consider yourself a hunter or a rider?”
“No.” He didn’t seem ashamed to admit it, damn it all. “I’m afraid that all I’m good at is managing my family’s lands and gadding about town. I’m quite useless, really.”
Sophie glared at Nicholas before sending the baron a warm smile. “You are not. There’s nothing wrong with not having some kind of higher calling. I enjoy many hobbies, but I’m not proficient enough at any of them to impress a true expert.”
Nicholas opened his mouth to argue that Sophie was a woman and therefore given fewer opportunities to earn acclaim, so she could hardly compare her situation to the baron’s but then clapped it shut.
She already knew this and was trying to make him feel better.
She wouldn’t appreciate Nicholas’s interference.
After dinner, they all retreated to the earl’s largest drawing room to play charades. Nicholas sat in the back corner, certain that he would enjoy the entertainment, but he had no urge to insert himself into the heart of the game.
Lord and Lady Wembley began, working together to act out a waltz. It was an easy one to start with, and Baron Sylvestor gleefully shouted out, “The Waltz” before anyone else had a chance.
He took their place in front of the guests, drew a slip of paper, and grimaced.
Tilting his head up, he stared at the ceiling for a long moment before angling himself toward Sophie.
He mimed opening a bottle and drinking, then lying down.
He got back up and theatrically—overdramatically, in Nicholas’s opinion—pretended to find the body and stab himself in the chest.
“Romeo and Juliet,” Sophie cried, clapping delightedly.
The baron bowed, still grinning ridiculously. How could anyone be that smiley all the time? Nicholas liked to think he was a fun-loving man, but Sylvestor took everything a step further.
“You’re correct, my lady,” Baron Sylvestor said. “I knew you would recognize a scene from such a romantic love story.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes. Anyone would recognize that scene. Romeo and Juliet was one of Shakespeare’s most famous works.
And as for romance, what was romantic about two people killing themselves over a misunderstanding?
Perhaps he was jaded because he’d seen what had happened to Theo and Elizabeth when their love had fallen apart, but there was nothing romantic about suffering.
No, romance was in the everyday moments. The small touches and secret smiles. The quiet contentment with their lot in life.
Sophie rose, chose a slip of her own, and roleplayed the part of Lady Macbeth. Nicholas guessed what she was up to before anyone else did, but he was enjoying her terrible acting skills so much that he didn’t have the heart to call out the answer and end her performance.
An hour later, when they’d all grown tired of charades, Nicholas was fetching himself a glass of brandy when Sophie appeared beside him, her brows furrowed.
She glanced around, perhaps checking if anyone was close enough to overhear them, and then asked, “Are you well? You don’t seem yourself.”
His gut flipped over as he sipped his brandy. Had he been that transparent in his malaise?
“I’m fine.” He tried to smile. “I miss riding, is all. I haven’t gotten out today.”
Hopefully she wouldn’t recognize the lie for what it was. It was true that he hadn’t ridden today, but after riding great distances over several days, he certainly hadn’t missed it. His bottom was grateful for the rest.
Her frown deepened. “Perhaps we could ride together tomorrow?”
A pulse of electricity ran through him. He tried to tell himself it was from the brandy.
It wasn’t.
Nicholas rose earlier than usual to meet with Sophie at the stables. He didn’t bother getting breakfast first because skipping it meant an extra half hour of sleep.
A sacrifice well worth it.
He donned his riding clothes and headed around the back of the manor, through the gardens, and toward the stables.
Flowers rioted around him—pink, white, and yellow. There were a few he hadn’t seen before, and he wondered if they were species that Trevor had specifically cultivated. He seemed the sort of person to surround himself with the unusual.
Birds chirped from the trees framing the garden, and a few smaller ones pecked at the grass, searching for bugs. It was a temperate morning, but clouds overhead prevented the sun from being too strong—a fact for which he was grateful.
He enjoyed a break from the usual bleak English weather as much as anyone, but there was only so much heat he could handle.
The stables were modest for an estate of this size, presumably because the family weren’t particularly interested in horses except as a mode of transportation.
Fortunately, they employed capable staff.
Nicholas had ensured the stablehands knew what they were doing before he left his horses in their care.
This morning, Sophie stood out the front with her blonde maid and a pair of stablehands, who were in the process of saddling two bay mares.
Nicholas arched an eyebrow as he approached. “No sidesaddle?”
Sophie spun to face him, a smile lighting up her face. “Nicholas! Good morning! No, I prefer to ride astride today, and since I doubt anyone will be around to see us, these helpful men have obliged me.”
He held up his hands, palms out. “Far be it for me to get in the way of that. I look forward to finding out how fast you can go when not as constrained.”
One side of her mouth hitched up lopsidedly. “I’d be faster if I had Dandelion with me, but we left her behind in London.”
Nicholas examined the mares. Both had gleaming coats and appeared to be in excellent condition. “I’m sure these beauties will be plenty fast.”
“They’re very steady,” a stablehand said. “Quick but not prone to taking off.”
“Excellent.” Nicholas rubbed his palms together. “I’ll need my horse prepared to ride as well.”
The stablehand who’d already spoken nodded. “Lady Sophie said as much. John is getting him now.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
Sure enough, only a few seconds later, Nicholas’s mount was brought from the stables, already saddled. He nickered, and Nicholas strode over and slipped him a peppermint stick. The horse snuffled it from his palm and then nosed his pocket, searching for more.
“That’s all for now,” he said, rubbing the horse’s forehead. “Maybe I’ll bring you something else later.” He only had so many treats and needed to ration them enough to make them last until the return trip to London.
The mares were both ready, so Nicholas left his gelding, Pepper, in the care of the stablehand who’d brought him out and offered Sophie his hand as she stepped onto the box to mount her mare.
Her hand was delicate in his, but her grip was surprisingly strong.
He found it difficult to let go once she was settled in place, but he forced himself to do so and waited to help the maid onto her steed too.
He vaulted onto Pepper’s back, and together they urged the horses away from the stables and around the edge of the garden.
He’d been warned not to allow horses to trample through the flowerbeds.
Considering Trevor’s love of botany, it seemed sensible to do everything possible to avoid harming the flowers.
Nicholas took the lead, since he’d spent the most time exploring the property. He guided the women around the manor house, avoiding the gardens as much as possible, down the driveway, and into the open fields.
Now that there was more space available to them, he picked up the speed, urging his horse into a trot. Sophie followed suit. He glanced over to ensure the maid was comfortable with the pace, but she looked as at ease on horseback as Sophie was. Perhaps they rode together often.
Trees stretched along the side of the field and curved a few hundred yards in front of them. The land between was mostly flat, with a few dips, hollows, and patches of long grass and low shrubbery.
“Race you to the trees?” Sophie called, gesturing toward the point where the semicircle of trees ended ahead of them.
A shot of adrenaline rushed through him. “Don’t think I’ll take it easy on you because you’re a woman.”
Her head tipped back and she laughed, the pale column of her throat rippling in the dawn light. “I’d be angry if you did.”
“On the count of three?”
She adjusted her position, her jaw jutting forward as her expression set in place.
He turned to the maid. “Will you count for us?”
Her eyes flicked from him to Sophie, who gave a subtle nod. “Three,” she called, her voice huskier than he’d expected. “Two. One!”
They took off.
Nicholas didn’t rush into motion as he usually would during a race. Instead, he held back slightly, curious to see how she’d approach it—and wanting to ensure she wouldn’t lose control.
Her mare sprang forward, and she moved with the horse as fluidly as any of his racing companions might. He watched her for a breath, and then, satisfied she wasn’t in danger, urged Pepper onward.
He leaned low, reducing the wind resistance, and shifted from a trot to a canter to a gallop. Heart pounding, he murmured encouragement to the horse and made small adjustments to his position as they dodged around long grass and leapt over rabbit holes.
As they neared the trees, a shape appeared ahead of them, long and dark, with grass partially hiding it from view.
Nicholas’s breath caught. It was a fallen tree. Quickly judging its size, he estimated it stood four feet above ground level at its highest point, and he and Sophie were barreling straight for it.
The tree was long enough that there was no way to dart around it. From a distance, they must have mistaken it for a natural rise in the ground, but this close, there was no denying that it was something much more dangerous.
“Sophie!” he shouted, his voice whipped away by the wind as he yanked on the reins, desperate to stop his horse before they reached the obstacle. “Tree!”
But Sophie didn’t stop. Hadn’t she heard him?
“There’s a tree!” he called again, lurching forward in the saddle as his horse came to an abrupt halt.
If anything, Sophie urged her mare faster.
Fuck.
She was going to hit it, and he was too far away to do anything.
He watched with his heart in his throat as Sophie raced toward the tree. At the last second, the mare jumped, clearing the tree by a matter of inches.
Nicholas exhaled roughly, his pulse hammering in his ears as Sophie closed the distance to the standing trees and slowed.
She turned the horse around to face him. “I win!”
He stared at her, completely speechless.
She ambled back toward him, and it wasn’t until she’d nearly reached the fallen tree again when he got control over his vocal cords.
“You scared ten years off my life!” He rubbed his chest, which was tight and achy. “Have mercy on my goddamn nerves.”
She grinned, completely unrepentant. “I’ll give you a head start on the race back.”
“Mercy, woman. Mercy.”
Her horse rounded the fallen tree. “Your head start is rapidly disappearing.”
Shaking his head, he turned his horse around and trotted back toward the place where Betsy waited for them.
Bright laughter sounded behind him, and the muffled hoofbeats picked up pace.
His heart gave a twang.
He was in so much trouble.