My Charming Earl

“Then you may address me simply as Sophia,” she murmured, wondering why she felt such a rush of pleasure when he spoke her name.

“Sophia,” he said, smiling at her. “That is such a lovely name. You are a beautiful creature and I am glad to have you on my arm.”

“But you must tell me, Christopher,” she said, growing a little more serious. “Why have you never married?”

At his surprised look, she colored but continued on bravely. If they were to pretend to be betrothed, she believed she ought to know.

“You are handsome and titled, so surely there must have been some young lady who caught your eye at some point.”

“I suppose that is true. Many young ladies have caught my eye. But in truth, Sophia, I do not wish to marry someone who cares only for balls and fripperies.”

His eyes flicked to hers. “I believe I have spoken to you of such a thing before. If I am to marry, I want a wife with whom I can have a pleasant and engaging conversation, as well as someone who will be an excellent hostess and can fulfill the duties required when the time comes for me to take my title.”

He threw her a quick smile. “Perhaps I am too severe with my requirements, but as yet, no one has met my standards.”

Her entire body buzzed with awareness as he looked into her eyes, the fervency in his expression making her breath catch in her throat.

The engagement was meant to be broken in a few weeks, but Sophia was beginning to wonder whether she might ask him to consider making it of a longer duration. Perhaps, in time, he might come to feel for her what she was beginning to feel for him, and he would want to make their arrangement something permanent himself.

In her heart, Sophia knew that there would never be another gentleman like Christopher, one who managed to capture her heart in the way he did.

Their discussions were lively, and the warmth in his eyes when he smiled at her always made her glow inwardly. There had been times when he had touched her hand, and even one occasion when his ungloved hand had taken hers for a good few minutes.

“Sophia, I—” she heard him say, his voice husky and filled with emotion.

She opened her mouth to ask him what it was he wanted to tell her, only for his lips to brush hers.

Startled, Sophia stepped back and raised one hand to her mouth, touching her lips with her fingers.

“I apologize,” Lord Roderick muttered, looking around in an entirely self-conscious manner. “I know this is meant to be a sham, Sophia, but my heart does not believe it.”

Sophia drew in a breath, the tension leaving her shoulders, and she drew close to him again. She had never been kissed before, but it seemed entirely right to be doing such a thing with Christopher.

He was looking down at her uncertainly, possibly wondering whether she might slap him for his actions, which only made her smile.

“You are not angry?” he asked, relief evident on his face.

She shook her head and, reaching up on her tiptoes, pressed her mouth to his. Stars exploded inside her as his arms slid around her waist, holding her tighter against him than ever before.

He broke the kiss after a few moments, releasing his hold a little. Sophia laughed softly when he let out a long breath of relief, as though he hardly believed what had happened.

“I think we have much to talk about,” he murmured, lifting her chin with one gentle finger. “Unfortunately, now is not the time for that.”

She gave him a slightly wry smile. “No, it is not. Perhaps tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow sounds wonderful.”

Chapter Eight

The next day, the surrounding landscape was entirely transformed. Where there was once pale, dead grass, there was now endless, rolling hills of crystal.

Trees looked like thin, bare dancers, twisting up from the cold ground, and as the snow gathered on the branches, they were clothed with decadent ivory jewels.

Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird swooped down to its nest. The sun was rising and the thick blanket of snow was now visible.

The walnut brown trees swayed in the cold winter wind. Icicles on the trees dropped with a smash. Like glass cracking and shattering.

The weather was frosty and the snow was glittering. Like white sequins laying all over the floor. A chilled squirrel hopped from tree to tree, carefully trotting on branches. The ghostly wind broke the peaceful sound of silence.