Chapter Fourteen

Sophie could not remember a more delightful afternoon. They talked the hours away, laughed at silly antics from their childhood, and lost themselves in each other's arms. The afternoon slowly ebbed toward dusk, and she knew Henry had long overstayed the time Harlow had allowed them.

"I should leave," he sighed, leaning back on the daybed they had relaxed upon most of the afternoon. "But I must admit that I do not want to."

"Hmm, I could not agree more. I do not wish for you to go either, but Harlow will come looking for us if we dally any longer. However, I have had an idea I could put to you."

"Please do," he said, his lips brushing the side of her neck and eliciting a shiver down her spine. She bit her lip, losing the ability to think straight when he did such things to her. No matter what he said to deny the fact, Holland was a rogue and knew how to seduce a woman into his arms. Her especially.

"There is no ball this evening, no dinner parties to attend, and so I wondered if ..." Sophie questioned whether she should ask him what she was about to. She did not want him to think she was too brash, but nor did she not want to spend another moment without him. A whole evening without seeing Henry was too long to endure.

"Wondered what, Sophie?" He tilted her jaw and met her eyes.

"Your yard and Lord Kemsley's join you mentioned. Perhaps we could meet here later this evening. When everyone is abed?" Sophie bit her lip, holding her breath as she waited for Henry to answer. Would he say yes or no? Would he caution her about being so fast? No matter her past, this future with Henry was what she wanted, and no one would make her feel guilty for how she felt about him, how much she wanted him.

The man in her arms was her choice. Something she had never had before in her life. She was betrothed, weeks from marrying the man she loved. There was nothing wrong with wanting to see him as much as she could.

He nodded, a small smile playing about his lips and heat burning in his gaze. "I shall meet you here after midnight."

Sophie nodded. The time could not pass soon enough.

***

They parted not long after their agreement, and ignoring Harlow's pointed stares during dinner, Sophie managed to avoid too many prying questions from her cousin. She wanted to tell Harlow of the betrothal, that Henry was an honorable man and had done right by her, but she could not. The truth of her situation still did not seem real, and giving her a day or so to become used to the idea of her change in status and life, in general, was a gift that would not last long.

Henry would not go back on his word, and she would soon be ready to announce their happy news. Possibly even tomorrow, she would inform Henry he should speak to Kemsley and gain his permission to marry.

Sophie laid her napkin on the table and met Harlow's gaze. "Thank you for this afternoon and the lovely dinner. I must say I'm fatigued and think I shall retire early if you do not mind."

"Of course I do not mind, my dear. I think I shall be doing the same," Harlow said. "Do you still wish to go shopping tomorrow? I have an appointment with Madame Laurent. New gowns are the order of the day, and I would like them delivered before the end of the Season."

Sophie bit back a laugh at Lord Kemsley's raised brow at the mention of more dresses. She pushed back her chair, thanking a footman who helped her.

"I have not changed my mind about tomorrow. I'm looking forward to our outing," she said, smiling at Lord Kemsley.

He shook his head in resignation. "Well, when you ladies are off shopping, I shall be home, working and keeping the estates running as they should."

Harlow threw him a pointed stare. "Are you trying to say something, husband?" she asked.

"Not at all, my dear," he quipped, laughter shining in his eyes.

"Goodnight." Sophie smiled, leaving Harlow and her husband alone. They were so in love, so sweet in their teasing of each other. A union she longed to have herself, and now she would. With Henry.

Upon making her room, she requested a bath and soaked in the tub for longer than she ought if her crinkled fingers were anything to go by.

Her maid helped her dress into a clean shift and slipped on her dressing gown. She dismissed her for the night, wanting to ensure she was alone. Sophie snuffed the candles in her room and sat in the window, watching the back gardens and the pavilion she had agreed to meet Henry in later that evening.

It was already past ten, and the time would soon arrive when she would need to sneak out. The sounds of the servants closing up the house and settling down themselves soon quietened to silence. Sophie remained in the window, listening for any noise that may suggest anyone was still up, but after hearing nothing, she decided it was safe.

She tiptoed toward her door and, cracking it open just the slightest, looked out onto the long passageway for anyone she may have missed. The hall was cloaked in the moonlight, and she darted down the stairs, thankful the front footman was nowhere to be seen.

Sophie crept toward the back parlor and opened the glass doors, wary of making the tiniest sound as she stepped onto the terrace. Keeping to the shadows, she slipped into the gardens and ran the remainder of the way to the pavilion she had spent such a lovely afternoon in with Henry.

Her concerns that he would not be there were eradicated when slipping into the pavilion. She found him seated on the daybed, looking up at the ceiling as if he were watching the stars.

"You did come," she whispered, slowing her steps as she walked toward him.

He sat up, reaching for her when she came close enough. "I said that I would, and anyway, bar sickness or death, there would be no reason as to why I would not meet you as agreed."

She ran her fingers through his dark locks, pushing them from his handsome face that watched her with such care, such hunger that her heart skipped a beat.

"We're being devilish," she admitted, hoping Harlow never found out what she had asked of the duke. Not that she had offered anything but to spend more time with him. But did he expect more from her this evening? She should have thought about that before asking to visit him again.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her, his hands sliding low on her back, so much so that his fingers brushed the top of her derrière.

"I'm fearful. Now that we're alone, I feel unsure suddenly," she admitted. Sophie took a calming breath. She was with Henry. He would not force her. He would not do anything that she did not want him to. She could trust him.

"I'll not push you toward anything you are not ready for, Sophie. If all we do this evening is spend more time together, that will be pleasure enough."

She slipped onto his lap, grateful he was so kind and good to her. "What a shame more gentlemen in London are not like you."

"I'm a patient man, and you've promised to be mine. Why would I not want to give you everything you desire, even if that is time?"

"Well, I may wish for more than time. A kiss or two would be welcome." Her body warmed at the thought. "You make me feel so amazing, Henry. Being in your arms, being loved by you, is an ecstasy I never thought to enjoy."

He tumbled them onto the daybed cushions, and she laughed, stifling the sound with her hand. "Do not tickle me. I cannot contain myself when I'm fondled."

"Really?" He pinned her to the bed, unrelenting with his fingers as they tickled her waist. She squealed, laughing, trying to squirm away but to no avail. "Henry, please stop. Please," she begged him.

He did as she asked, and relief swamped her that he had listened to her and respected her enough to do so, even if they were only playing.

"You're not wearing many clothes, Sophie," he growled, leaning back to examine her person. Her dressing gown gaped, and even she could see her shift barely covered her decently. "Do you have any idea how desirable I find you? The moment I saw you, I knew our lives would be connected somehow."

"I'm glad that has come to be, too," she said, reaching for him.

He took her lips in a slow and unhurried kiss. A kiss that made her head spin. Their tongues tangled, and their bodies came together, his weight pressing against her. Sophie could feel his body, his hardness, Henry's wild, strong masculinity.

Her body burst to life, and she clung to him, wanting him with a need that surpassed any fear and trepidation that always lingered in her mind.

He did not move to do more, to propel them further than they had ever gone before. Her body longed, ached for his touch.

She pressed against his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. "I want to give you something," she said, kissing her way down his neck, chest, and stomach. "And you will let me." Her words brooked no argument. "You're so generous, and now I wish to be," she explained, hoping her act of brazenness did not fail as he had not failed her.