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fully. Everything was fair in this battle between him and Sophie’s fears. He intended to win and unlock her passion. He wanted to see what she’d be like when she forgot herself.

      He could not remember when a woman had intrigued him as much. She made him forget about his family and his reasons for being in Newcastle.

      ‘It is not an obligation, but a pleasure,’ Richard added smoothly.

      Mrs Ravel shook her head. ‘I do wonder about young people these days. Not an ounce of romance in their soul. You two may say your goodnights in the drawing room. I am quite weary and will take myself off to bed. I do trust you, Sophie. Lord Bingfield, if Sophie failed to inform you—tomorrow and every Thursday is our At Home.’

      ‘I am grateful for the intelligence, Mrs Ravel.’ Richard gave Sophie a hard look. If she thought she’d get rid of him that easily, she had another think coming. He intended to exploit the situation to his advantage and see what the woman Sophie tried to hide was like. ‘Sophie and I obviously have had other things on our minds. I’ll make a note of it, but I can’t make any promises.’

      Sophie marched ahead of him into the drawing room, her skirt slightly swaying to reveal her slender ankles. She stopped to turn up the gas lamps, bathing the room in a soft light before facing him with her arms crossed and blue eyes glowing like star sapphires.

      ‘What was that little demonstration with my stepmother in aid of? A goodnight in the carriage would have sufficed.’

      Richard assessed her with half-closed eyes. She was attracted to him and he would get her to admit it. Tonight. ‘You haven’t informed your stepmother of our arrangement. I would hardly wish for her to think ill of me. It would be impolite to miss an At Home simply for lack of knowledge. It might cause speculation. I believe there has been more than enough speculation and gossip recently. If you are not careful, people will begin to look at your waistline.’

      She flushed scarlet. ‘That … that is an impossibility.’

      ‘You were the one who uttered the words about our impulsive marriage, not I. Women who have found their dream man often forget their sensibilities.’

      She gave a decisive nod and removed her gloves. ‘My stepmother has gone upstairs. There is no need for you to linger. Or indeed for you to appear at the At Home at all. We can slowly drift away. It will provide an excuse for me jilting you. Ultimately you can forget some important function. Isn’t that what men like you do? Selfishly put their own needs above others?’

      Her words stung. Women had flung the words at him before, but generally when he ended the association.

      He recalled the gossip of the Northern Counties Club about her icy behaviour. Was it him or all men? He clenched his fist and wanted to murder whichever man had sown the seeds of distrust.

      ‘There is every need,’ he said smoothly, plucking a stray thread from her shoulder. ‘Your stepmother said your next At Home was tomorrow. For your sake, I need to be there.’

      Sophie slapped her gloves against her hand. ‘What is your prediction for my stepmother’s At Home? They are not very well attended. The great and the good often have other calls to make.’

      ‘It will be full to bursting with well-wishers, people who have grudges and simply the curious, all wanting to know about the great romance and when our next appearance as a couple will be. The polite ones will only stay fifteen minutes, hoping to see us together in their allotted time, but the curious will find an excuse to linger and see if your unknown bridegroom-to-be puts in an appearance or if it was all fustian nonsense.’

      A faint line appeared between Sophie’s perfect brows and the tapping stopped as she considered his words. ‘I sincerely doubt it. True, people will speculate of course. I will concede your point—in light of tonight’s events the At Home will be more crowded than usual. I will have the footmen put out extra chairs. But no one will want to meet you or send invitations for the both of us.’

      ‘I shall rearrange my plans.’ He paused, watching her digest the news. ‘My friends will understand why I have decided to linger in Newcastle for an indefinite period. There was an expectation I would attend a house party in Hampshire next week.’

      There was no need to tell Sophie that he had written declining the invitation, before he went to see her this morning and proposed marriage. The woman who had invited him had expected him to continue to grace her bed. After meeting Sophie, such sport with another woman held no attraction.

      He simply refused to allow Sophie to have a hold over him. This wasn’t about love or romance, but satisfying his curiosity. When it was over, he’d walk away with his heart intact and the knowledge that he’d solved the puzzle of Sophie.

      ‘I’ve no wish to interrupt your plans and be a bother,’ she said, turning towards the fire. ‘You were right earlier when you said I didn’t think. You must go if that is what you wish to do. If invitations do come, the disappointment of you not attending will make it easier to explain the breach when it comes.’

      ‘If we have a breach too quickly, Putney’s words will be remembered,’ he reminded her. ‘I did make a vow that I would not be used as an instrument of your downfall. With each new scheme you propose, you make it easier for him. I am the one with experience. You are a novice.’

      She covered her mouth. ‘I hadn’t considered …’

      ‘Next time do. It is not just your reputation at stake here, but mine—’

      ‘Won’t the woman mind?’

      He shrugged. ‘I was looking for an excuse to end it. The affair was pleasant while it lasted, but she had begun to bore me. I dislike being bored.’

      Her cheeks coloured at the remark. ‘I … I hadn’t thought. I know very little about such matters.’

      His shoulders relaxed. Sophie was truly innocent and unlike his normal sort of woman. In her company, he’d been exasperated, amused, bemused, but never bored.

      ‘I gave you my word that I would not pursue another woman while we are together,’ he said. ‘When I am interested in a woman, my interest stays on her. When it is finished, it is done, with no regrets or backward glances on my part. But I always inform the woman first.’

      He clamped his mouth shut. He never allowed regrets. Leaving was far better than being left. And he knew while there might be a few tears, it was always hurt pride, rather than actual feelings. Since Mary, he’d never permitted himself to fall for an inexperienced woman.

      She dipped her head and did not meet his eyes. ‘Other people have. The woman can be the last to know.’

      Silently he once more cursed the man who had made her so wary. He wanted to run him through for causing Sophie to doubt her charms and power. And an unexpected surge of jealousy went through him. She should not be comparing him to such a cad.

      He went over to her and raised her chin so that she was staring directly into his face. She did not pull away.

      ‘I am not other men, Sophie Ravel,’ he said in a soft voice. ‘Why should I want to pursue other women when the world thinks I am engaged to you?’

      ‘Because …’ Her tongue flicked out, moistening her lips and turning them to the colour of ripe cherries. ‘Because we are not truly engaged.’

      ‘I would hardly dishonour any fiancée in that way, particularly not one I’d sworn to protect. Whatever you might think of me, know I keep my promises.’

      Giving in to temptation, he bent his head and tasted her lips.

      This time, they trembled under his and parted slightly, inviting him to prolong the kiss. Before deepening the kiss, he brought his arms about her, pulling her close so that her body collided with his, just as he had longed to do ever since they had waltzed together. It fitted perfectly—her curves meeting his hard planes in exactly the right places. She melted further, opening her mouth wide so that he delved his tongue in. He tasted. There was something so right about her taste,

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