The Sheik's Son

Chapter 10

Sophie thought over the conversation that evening as she lay in bed. She had been too forceful, too argumentative. She must learn to temper herself and not be so bold. Maybe her grandmother had been right all along. She must not become so overbearing and masculine in her beliefs and outward appearance.

The fire burned low in the room and the windows offered little light from the moon outside. She turned onto her back and not for the first time thought of him. He was arrogant and off-putting but she was drawn to Sebastian. She hated even thinking the words and hated more thinking of him, but it was so.

She was glad this week gave her time to reflect. She knew full well about his reputation with women from the scandal sheets and knew that she was just another conquest. She also knew that it was not going to happen. She would not be his mistress.

As a well-brought-up lady he would not go any further lest he risk her father’s wrath and suffer the ultimate price: marriage. No. She would never marry a man like Sebastian. He was too sure of himself and far too mysterious. Though she had met his beautiful sister Leila, she knew next to nothing about him except his employment with the Duke of Dorset.

The duke. There was yet another man who had designs on her and none of them honorable. She knew the duke was expected tomorrow and she would enjoy his company. Unlike the seductive Sebastian, the duke had never behaved inappropriately even if he had wanted to. She felt nothing for the duke except a mild friendship.

***

The next morning Sophie and Germaine, dressed in the simple gaulle gowns, walked along the river and into the small village that Sophie had seen the previous day. Germaine was known to the villagers so Sophie felt perfectly at ease.

They talked little of the pamphlet but more of men and the expectation of marriage.

“Don’t you want to marry, Sophie?” Germaine asked as they walked back to the chateau.

“I’m not sure. I have passions of learning and to be educated, and that is not something most men value.”

“Hmm,” Germaine said.

“Alphonse was a childhood friend who wanted to marry me. He was very different from me and I don’t think we would have suited each other well. I’m lucky in that my father would never force me, while my grandmother thinks that all women should do is marry.”

“Yes. I have noticed your grandmother has very traditional views.”

“That in itself I don’t mind—I just don’t want those ideas and views forced upon me.”

Germaine nodded. “I agree entirely.”

***

That evening, dinner was another large affair with platters of different meats, cheeses, fruit tarts, wine and conversation.

The duke had not yet arrived but was expected, as well as another intellectual named Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon, whose published works on histoire naturelle were well known. Sophie had not met Buffon but he was a recognized man and known to Madame Necker, Marmontel and La Harpe.

That evening Sophie had enjoyed two glasses of wine and had eaten more heavily than usual. Together with the long walks in the country, she was sleeping deeper and tonight was no exception. After pulling the white linen shift over her head she settled into the bed, pulling the covers around her. The country was proving to be exactly what she needed. It was blissful.

***

The chateau was shrouded in almost complete darkness when the carriage pulled up. It was well past midnight and the moon was low in the sky.

“Just leave my trunk at the door,” the young man told the driver.

The elderly butler answered the door, holding one small candle but half asleep. “Hello, monsieur.”

He recognized the man as a past guest of Madame Necker’s.

“I have one trunk, but leave it until the morning. I have no need of it now,” he said.

“Yes, monsieur.”

“Do you know if my room is ready?” he asked.

The sleepy butler handed him the candle. “It should be.”

“It always is. Then good night, monsieur.”