“Do not worry your head, Marie. Beaufort will rue the day he interfered. Indeed, he will have to live with the knowledge that in rescuing one maiden he inadvertently led us to another.”
Marie stopped breathing. “You speak of Mr. Shandy?” she asked struggling to hide the tremble in her voice.
“I speak of Miss Beaufort,” he corrected with some annoyance. “Lord Beaufort’s sister. I find the thought of her parading about town in a pair of breeches highly distasteful and the marquess, he will pay for it dearly.”
Fear gripped her in its talons. “You intend to use Miss Beaufort to replace Annabel?”
“No, Marie. Fate has another purpose for Miss Beaufort.” He swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. “And you, you are going to help me achieve it.”
Chapter 17
Sebastian woke to the sound of clinking glass. He propped himself up on his elbows and glanced instinctively towards the window.
Squinting in the darkness, he followed the sound to the figure sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. With his shoulders hunched and head drooped low, his body appeared larger than his head. When Sebastian slid his hand under the pillow in an attempt to locate his knife, the figure spoke.
“Oh, you’re awake.” The feminine voice, whilst cheerful, sounded a little apprehensive.
Sebastian narrowed his gaze. “Sophie?” He patted the other side of the bed to reassure himself it was empty. “What are you doing out of bed?”
The mere thought that she should be in his bed was enough to arouse him again.
“I did not want to wake you,” she whispered tentatively. “You were sleeping so soundly.”
“I do not normally sleep very well at all,” he replied, both amazed and alarmed he had not heard her movements. “Is that why you’re sitting in the dark?”
“No … well, yes I suppose it is.”
He could hear the nervous hitch in her voice and knew she was trying to place some distance between them, but why? Had she returned to her own room, he could have believed she felt some regret over her decision to deepen their acquaintance. However, she had waited for him, albeit on the other side of the room and in the dark. Perhaps she was feeling a little shy after having been so intimate with him.
“I could have sworn I heard a clinking sound,” he said to distract her while he climbed out of bed to open the curtains. Dawn was fast approaching and its soft, muted rays cast a faint glow over the room.
“It was probably the noise of the spoon scraping against the glass,” she replied.
When he turned towards her, he caught his breath. Wrapped in the tartan blanket and her hair in disarray, she sat huddled in the chair, eating Mrs. Cox’s syllabub.
He had never seen a more appealing sight.
“It seemed a shame to waste it after Mrs. Cox had gone to all the trouble of whipping the cream,” she replied. She looked up from the glass as she placed another spoonful into her mouth and froze, her eyes widening as they perused his naked form before darting back down to the floor.
He bit back a chuckle for he found her reaction highly amusing. He liked seeing her like this, so shy and vulnerable. It was a side she so seldom revealed.
As if on cue, she muttered something under her breath and he suppressed another grin when she straightened her back, lifted her head and looked him square in the eye. “Would you like some?” she asked with a newfound boldness.
Would he like some? He wanted everything she had to offer and more. “That all depends,” he drawled, taking a step towards her, “on what it is you’re offering.”
With a coy smile, she dipped the spoon into the glass and scooped up a generous helping. “Here,” she said holding the spoon out in front of her.
Sebastian could not decide if it was the most innocent of gestures or a prerequisite to seduction. The lady certainly was an enigma. It was not until he had taken a step towards her, that he discovered he had been wrong on both counts. With a flick of the spoon, she watched with delight as its contents flew through the air and landed on his chin.
There was a brief moment of silence, where neither knew what the other would do. Sophie had pursed her lips in an attempt to suppress a grin while she waited for his reaction.
“When I catch you,” he began, wiping his chin and sucking syllabub off his finger “I shall make you lick it all off.” He watched her eyes widen with fear, with excitement. “You have until the count of three,” he said, noting her hesitance. She obviously did not believe him. “One …”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Two …”
“You can’t,” she began, but then must have decided that he could for she placed the glass on the table, wrapped the blanket tightly around her and bolted for the door.