Dalliance with the Duchess (Seducing the Duchess #3)

Chapter Ten

“Y ou and Blake,” said the Marquess of Chatham. “Who’d have thought! Hardly up to your standards, is he, my sweet?”

Sophia gave him a cool look. “There is no ‘me and Blake,’ Chatham.”

“Then what did he want?” Chatham asked, a watchful look in his blue eyes.

She gave an impatient shrug. “I wasn’t listening to everything, but I think he waylaid me to warn me.”

The marquess gave a startled laugh. “Warn you? About what?”

Sophia laughed back. “Well, what do you think? The company I am keeping. I’m not sure whether he is trying to save me, although why he should want to do that is a mystery. Perhaps he just wants me to dance to his tune. I told him I did not want to dance! Insufferable man.”

The last sounded genuine because it was, and the marquess seemed to relax.

“Oldney hated him,” he said, idly swinging the fob on his watch chain.

“So do I,” Sophia replied, with a defiant lift of her chin.

Chatham’s smile was the nearest thing she had ever seen to evil. “Then you will be thrilled with my plan. You know he is a friend of Robinson’s? He will be very sorry indeed when he hears of our young fool’s downfall. And even more gratifying, there will be nothing he can do to restore Robinson’s good name.”

Sophia had to work hard to keep her mask in place. Beneath her cool exterior her heart was thumping and her hands were damp with perspiration. She pretended to gaze about her, as if she was bored, and then shrugged her shoulders. “ Is Robinson his friend? I hadn’t realized.”

Chatham almost rubbed his hands together in glee. “Oh, yes. Boyhood friends. They were at school together, and Robinson idolized him. That just makes it more satisfying now that we have the boy. Believe me, we plan to see him completely and utterly ruined. I would love to see Blake’s face when he finds out. What do you think, my dear Duchess?”

He was still watching her intently, but Sophia now had her disguise firmly in place. She grinned with delight. “Oh, that is just so... well done, Chatham. Can I be there when Blake finds out his protégé is doomed? When is it to happen?”

He smiled but shook his head.

“Although,” Sophia paused, as if giving the matter some thought, “how exactly do you intend to ruin him? He is rich, I gather, else why would you be wasting your time on him? He has been spending a great deal of money at the gaming tables. And he cannot have a bottomless pit of funds to draw on. Are you sending him bankrupt?”

The marquess smiled again and the sight of it made Sophia go cold. She could feel the malevolence seeping out of him and onto her own skin, and like Nicholas she wanted to go home and take a bath to wash it away.

“Nothing so simple, Duchess, although he will certainly be lighter in the pocket when we are done with him. Our plan is to place him in a situation that, when it becomes known, will be extremely damaging for him. He will turn to Blake for help, and that is when the fun begins. Will Blake risk his own reputation to save the boy, or will he throw him to the wolves? Whatever choice he makes, Robinson will suffer and so will Blake.”

Her skin tingled, and nausea swirled in her stomach. They must hate Nicholas a great deal to do this, to ruin his friend simply to get to him. It was deliberately calculated to cause the most pain, and would be executed with cold, vicious precision. But she still did not know what “it” was. Sophia waited for a few moments in the hope he would say more—to ask would be too dangerous right now and she did not want Chatham to become suspicious.

“That is something I look forward to,” she said when the silence drew on. “Imagine Blake’s face!” She grinned and gave a wriggle, like a silly debutante.

Chatham gave her an indulgent look and then reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. She tried not to flinch. “It is my pleasure, Duchess.”

Together they made their way back to the table, where Sophia sat for another excruciating hour. She joined in their nonsense, and she won and lost, but nothing of consequence. She was an astute player. She smiled and laughed, as if she couldn’t be happier to be back with her late husband’s set. Eventually, after an increasing number of smothered yawns and an apology, Sophia rose to her feet announcing she would see them again at Hettie Devenish’s.

Gordon glanced up at her, but the befuddled expression he had been wearing all night was suddenly absent. Surprised, she looked at him more closely, but he was already back to slurring his words and playing badly. Was it her imagination? Perhaps she was not the only one here tonight in camouflage.

The memory of Chatham’s words made her fear for Gordon, but she also feared for herself. She had always known Oldney’s set were vindictive and cruel, but she was beginning to suspect they were worse than that. Evil. That word again, but it was the only one that fit.

Once Sophia was outside, she was able to let her true feelings wash over her. She felt raw again, her pretense stripped bare. The air was cold, and she gave a shiver, drawing her cloak tighter about her as she waited for her coach. This was not a civilized part of town, and she knew the shadows and the alleys hid all sorts of miscreants.

Her thoughts returned to her encounter with Nicholas earlier. He had been searching for his sister all these years, day after day, night after night, and never finding her. No wonder he was driven, she thought as she climbed into the coach and they set off for Berkeley Square. And he had been honest with her. He felt as if he had failed his sister.

She wanted to comfort him.

Sophia groaned softly to herself. She was not supposed to be caught up in Blake’s personal business. And yet, after their passionate encounters, how could she not find herself drawn to him, both physically and emotionally? He wasn’t the man she had thought him, and she found she wanted to know him better. They were working together to save Gordon, and apart from her attraction, or maybe because of it, they made a surprisingly good team.

Impatiently Sophia shook her head. None of that mattered. This was a brief interlude in her life, and soon Nicholas would be gone and she would be alone again. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have plans. She had two sisters she could visit and a mother she had not seen in ages. She did not have to remain here in this big echoing house.

For the first time since she arrived in the capital, Sophia was not looking forward to throwing herself into London’s social whirl, was in fact looking forward to something quiet and peaceful. Something meaningful and far from the superficiality of her life before.

The coach came to a halt, and the footman handed her out. As she climbed the steps to her front door, Sophia’s head was still full of everything that had happened and how she was going to save Gordon from his own stupidity.

A shadow beside the shrubbery moved.

She gasped and jumped, ready to fling herself at the front door, before she realized who it was.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” Nicholas spoke formally, with a bow. As if they were meeting at one of the Season’s grand balls.

Her heart was still pounding, but the fear had drained away, leaving her weak. “You are behaving ridiculously,” she said, her tired voice husky. “Can’t you arrange a visit during the day like anyone else? Well I’m sorry but right now I only want my bed, Mr. Blake. Alone,” she added, in case he imagined otherwise.

He smiled. Did he think that funny?

“I would not want to keep you from your beauty sleep.”

She turned to the door, hesitated, and then with a sigh turned back again. “Although I do have things to tell you...”

He cocked an eyebrow, and then followed her inside.