LITMIR.BIZ

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younger sisters and they feel exactly the same way about you. They think you a pompous braying fool.’

      She was out from behind the curtain now. The ballroom teemed with people and music. Everyone had their back to her and her personal duel with Sir Vincent.

      Richard was nowhere to be seen. She was truly on her own. Silently she prayed that she had done enough. Her heart thudded in her ears.

      ‘No one calls me that!’ Sir Vincent parted the curtain and emerged red-faced and spitting with anger.

      ‘I just have! Now I must bid you adieu, Sir Vincent.’ She made a curtsy which bordered on the insulting. ‘Pray remember I am not some snivelling scullery maid or a naïve débutante. I do have friends, so stay out of my way. Do not attempt to blacken my name again!’

      He reached out and grabbed her arm. ‘We are finished when I say we are.’

      ‘Unhand me!’

      ‘Not until we have finished our discussion.’ He started to drag her back towards the balcony.

      ‘Someone help me. Please.’

      A fist connected with Sir Vincent’s jaw and he staggered backwards against the heavy curtain and fell down. The curtain tumbled with a loud thud and rip which resounded through the room.

      ‘You have insulted Miss Ravel for the last time, Putney.’ Richard’s voice held none of its usual warmth.

      He had arrived! Precisely at the right moment. Sophie’s heart did a little flip.

      Richard towered over Sir Vincent. ‘When a lady asks you to let go, you do so. I demand an apology!’

      ‘What right do you have to intervene?’ Sir Vincent rose to his feet and adopted a pugilist’s stance. ‘Hit me again and see if I am slow to respond. Fight like a gentleman, Bingfield.’

      Richard’s voice held a note of barely controlled fury. ‘I claim the right of any gentleman to act when a lady is accosted.’

      ‘We were merely conversing. I demand satisfaction. You have impugned my character for the last time, Bingfield.’

      ‘I can see the marks of your hand on her elbow, Putney. I heard Miss Ravel beg for help. I suspect the vast majority of the gathering heard her plea. What man among you would fail to assist a woman in need? Are you a molester of women, Putney? Is that the reputation you seek to defend?’

      Sir Vincent went a violent colour of puce and foam speckled his mouth.

      Sophie saw a crowd had gathered around them and the orchestra had stopped playing. In the silence, she made sure her voice could carry. ‘Sir Vincent threatened me and grabbed hold of my arm. He refused to let go. I feared for my person and my reputation. Lord Bingfield rescued me.’

      ‘I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation,’ an elderly lady piped up. ‘That gentleman grabbed hold of the lady in a most unbecoming manner.’

      ‘That’s precisely right,’ said a well-upholstered man. ‘This gentleman acted bravely in rescuing the lady.’

      Various other people in the crowd murmured their agreement. Sir Vincent stood there with an increasingly panic-stricken look on his face.

      Sophie pointed towards the large double doors on the other side of the ballroom. ‘Depart, Sir Vincent, and reflect on your behaviour. It falls far short of what civilised society requires.’

      A small round of applause rippled throughout the room.

      Sir Vincent glanced over his shoulder and slowly lowered his fists. ‘I will remember this, Bingfield.’

      Sophie held out her hand to Richard. She started towards the dance floor. ‘Shall we go, Lord Bingfield? I fear the incident has quite spoilt my evening and here I was having such an enchanting time. Perhaps another dance with you will restore my mood.’

      ‘Putney’s behaviour was not what I would have wished for, not tonight of all nights, but I could hardly allow your plea for help to go unanswered.’ A faint smile touched his lips. ‘Another waltz will suit admirably, Miss Ravel.’

      ‘He won’t marry you, Miss Ravel. You will have only yourself to blame when it ends in tears,’ Sir Vincent called out, halting their progress. ‘You should look to your own reputation before you start smearing others. Do you know how many women he has cozened and fooled? How many women he has ruined?’

      Richard’s entire being stiffened as his hand became a clenched fist. Sophie knew what she had to do to prevent a brawl breaking out. Richard might want to beat him into the ground, but she had a better means of destroying him once and for all.

      The moment had come. Silently she thanked his foresight of getting her a ring. Her stomach clenched slightly. Finally the time had come to triumph. She peeled off her glove and raised her hand so the two sapphires twinkled in the candlelight.

      ‘If he has no intention of marrying me, why did Lord Bingfield give me this ring?’ Sophie asked, twisting her hand to and fro so everyone could see it. ‘And my behaviour this very evening? You must forgive the extravagant display earlier, but how often does a woman accept a proposal from the man of her dreams?’

      Sir Vincent spluttered, but no sound came from his throat. The gathered crowd, however, gave a long collective sigh.

      She put her hand on Richard’s arm and forced her feet to move away from the scene where Sir Vincent was now surrounded by various people intent on getting their penny’s worth in before he was hustled out of the ballroom. It would appear he was not as well liked or thought of as he’d boasted.

      A great crowd of people surrounded them, blocking Sophie’s view. The men wrung Richard’s hand, offering congratulations, while the women all wanted to admire the ring. Everyone said how delighted they were with the outcome. One or two of the ladies confessed that it was the most romantic thing they had ever seen and wasn’t Lord Bingfield the epitome of a hero. Sophie found it harder and harder to mouth the words about how much in love they were and how sudden and totally thrilling it was.

      Her head started to spin and she gave a helpless look at Richard. He appeared to understand instantly and ushered her away to a small antechamber, the very model of a solicitous fiancé. Her heart did a queer leap as her body instantly responded to his touch and she knew her cheeks flamed worse than before.

      Once they were away from the crowds, he removed his hand. Sophie sank down on a chair and waved her fan frantically, hoping Richard would think it was speaking to all the well-wishers, rather than his touch, which had caused her high colour. The cool breeze did much to restore her equilibrium.

      ‘My knees threatened to give way out there. The number of people who wanted to congratulate us was simply astonishing. I didn’t anticipate there would have been so many interested in my ring. The news of our betrothal seems to have spread like wildfire. The redoubtable Miss Ravel has captured the Rake.’

      He stood with his back to her, making it impossible for her to tell his true feelings. ‘Interesting and dramatic tittle-tattle has a way of doing that. Particularly when you announced things in the way you did.’

      ‘I’ve recovered from my faint,’ Sophie said firmly. She refused to apologise for her actions. Surely Richard had to see they were positively inspirational. ‘The crush overwhelmed me. So many people demanded to see my ring that I struggled to breathe.’

      ‘Your timing was impeccable both in leaving the crowd and earlier when we left Putney,’ he said, turning around to look at her. His eyes glowed with a sort of admiration. ‘Well played, Miss Ravel. Very well played indeed.’

      ‘Yes, I was rather proud of the way I handled Sir Vincent, particularly the final flourish.’ Sophie leant forwards. ‘I simply had not accounted for how many people were listening in.’

      A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘I quite like the thought of being someone’s dream, although it gives me a lot to live up to.’

      Sophie

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