Chapter Five

Sophie had the urge to pinch her arm. She could not possibly be escorted home by the Duke of Holland and before the ton. She glanced around the park to see who else viewed this spectacular thing happening to her. An occasion that she would never forget and could not wait to tell Harlow about. How excited her cousin would be for her.

For a young woman from the country with little to offer, his escorting her was gracious indeed. To have a cousin who married well did not change her circumstances. Not in the way that mattered to gentlemen like Holland. He would marry a wealthy woman as high in the upper ten thousand as he was. Not a nobody like her.

But the duke did not seem to care about any of that. He walked toward Lord Kemsley's Georgian town house with his head held high and his easy conversation never stuttering into an awkward silence.

"Thank you for escorting me home, Your Grace. You are very kind," she said as they came before the front doors of her home.

"It was my pleasure. We're friends, are we not? And do not friends escort each other home at times?" His warm smile made the pit of her stomach flip, and she could not help but grin back at him.

With such delightful manners and charming words, a woman would be hard-pressed not to be swayed to swoon at such a man's feet. And the duke was very easy to admire and with sweet manners.

As much as she tried to deny herself, she watched him surreptitiously and couldn't remember when she had met such a rum duke. His kindness today before Lady Leslie proved that he was not flippant and cruel to cut her in front of others who were part of his social sphere.

"I'm glad to have you as a friend and that you escorted me home, Your Grace." Sophie bit her lip, not wanting their interaction to end. "Are you attending the Jenkins music recital this evening? I must admit that we do not have musical evenings in Highclere, so I'm loathe to miss it."

"I will be in attendance, yes. I'm fond of music, and I believe there will be an operatic singer."

"Yes," Sophie said, perhaps a little too lively than was necessary. She took a calming breath and fought not to tremble with the expectation of seeing him again. "A Maria Dickons. I have heard she's a talented singer and harpsichordist. A most entertaining night ahead of us."

He looked up at the door as she stepped onto the bottom step. The door opened, revealing Lord Kemsley's butler, watching them with interest. Sophie turned toward the duke. "Thank you again, Your Grace."

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of her gloved fingers. Sophie watched as his lips pressed against her glove. Her mouth dried, and she swallowed.

With a gulp.

"Until this evening, Miss York," he said, his eyes meeting hers but for a moment before he was off down the sidewalk, leaving her to gape after him like a besotted fool. She was starting to think she was well on the way to becoming so.

Before he could look back and catch her ogling him, she turned on her heel and entered the hall, only to find Harlow smirking at her from inside the door.

"Come into my parlor," Harlow said, waiting for her before they started toward the back of the house.

Sophie followed, pulling off her gloves as she went and untying her bonnet. The parlor was warm and smelled of roses, not to mention sunlight shimmered into the room by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Harlow sat and patted the settee for Sophie to join her, settling her gloves, hat, and book at her side. The smirk she had noted before was now a pronounced smile of expectation. "Was that the Duke of Holland I saw escorting you home? What is this about? You must tell me everything," she demanded, wiggling on the chair as if she could not wait to hear what Sophie had to say.

Sophie thought back to the park and wondered how something so astounding could befall her. "We happened upon each other, that was all, and he was kind enough to escort me home." Sophie gathered her thoughts a moment, wanting to voice how she felt. "I must admit to feeling a little overwhelmed right now. I did not think a baron, nevertheless, a duke, would speak to me this year in London, nor wish to be acquaintances."

"And why would they not speak to you? You may not be an heiress, but you have far more superior assets than that. If a man marries you for your money, I believe there is not much hope for a successful marriage."

"That is true," Sophie noted the afternoon tea set out before them and took the opportunity to pour them both a fresh cup. She handed it to Harlow before picking up her own. "Please do not say a word to anyone, but I like the duke. My stomach twists and turns when I'm around him, and for some unknown reason, I've become obsessed with his lips," she admitted, needing to tell someone what was happening to her each time she saw the gentleman.

Harlow scoffed and coughed, placing down her cup with a clatter. "Oh, dearest, do not say such things when I'm taking a sip. I shall never keep my composure if you do." Harlow patted her arm. "So you desire him. Well, that is a good sign and a small step in perhaps many more."

Sophie shrugged but could not disagree. "When his lips touched the back of my hand earlier, I felt hot from head to toe. Have you seen the duke's lips? They're very ... very ..."

"Kissable?" Harlow interjected, smirking as if she knew something that Sophie did not. Which she had no doubt was the case since her friend was well and truly a married woman. A woman in love who sought her husband's touches and kisses.

"We have grown close, so would you tell me something if I asked?" Sophie hoped she would, but was not entirely certain.

"Of course," Harlow said without hesitation.

"Is kissing enjoyable with a man?" Sophie asked. She did not want to remember the forced kiss Lord Carr bestowed upon her. Her lips had been bruised and swollen for a week, and not even cold compresses helped the pain he inflicted.

"Because we are the best of friends and cousins, I shall be honest with you. Kissing, my dearest Sophie, is one of the most sensual and enjoyable private things a woman and man can do. When Wes first kissed me …" Harlow slumped against the back of the settee and sighed. "My toes curled in my silk slippers, and I thought I may perish of need. I'm certain that kissing Holland will bring about the same reaction I had with Kemsley. Certainly, if you feel like you do with the duke merely by being near him."

Sophie's stomach clenched at the thought. "While I do not think the duke sees me in such a way, it would be lovely to think he may in time. But we are friends, he said so himself, so at least I shall always have that."

"You may have more, do not discount yourself so early in the game. That Holland speaks to you is a favorable metier. It shows that he sees you as someone he can trust and converse with. Other marriages have started with less than that."

Sophie supposed that was true. "He's attending the Jenkins musical recital this evening. What gown would you suggest that I wear?" she asked. Her cousin was much more fashionable and knowledgeable of what gowns were best for the different events the London ton attended.

"The blue silk, this evening. We shall curl up your hair, and I'll lend you my diamond necklace, no other jewels, however. You shall look magnificent, and we shall see if the duke seeks you out again. If he does, it is with certainty that we can claim he likes you more than perhaps even he knows himself.

"Is that even possible?" Sophie asked, knowing little about how a man's mind worked or what they said could mean different things than what she thought.

"Of course, it is possible. Most gentlemen who court ladies give nothing away as to how they're feeling. At least, that is what I hear most often."

Sophie took in what Harlow said and tried to make sense of it all. The courtship game during the Season was more complicated than she first thought. But one thing she could do was look her best for anyone who may wish to converse with her.

"Would you mind if I bathe before this evening's recital? I want to look my best," she asked.

Harlow stood and pulled the bellpull next to the mantle. "I shall order you one now, so you may relax too. Nothing is too much for my dearest cousin. We shall have you married by the end of the Season and maybe even to a duke. How wondrous would that be?" she said, her smile wide.

Sophie enjoyed Harlow's enthusiasm while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. "Let us start with this evening musical, and we shall see how we go from there."