One Night Scandal - Page 56
“She may not believe it. After all, she has quite the talent for reading minds.”
“So I have discovered,” Nicholas stated. “But why do you care? What is she to you?”
Somerton narrowed his eyes. “A very good friend. Nothing more.”
Nicholas still didn’t quite believe him. Somerton was far too protective of Sophie to be nothing more than a friend. But knowing Somerton as he did, Nicholas knew he would get no information from the man.
“Ah, friendship,” Nicholas said before sipping his brandy. “Interesting how concerned you are over just a friend. Even more protective than I was of Elizabeth. And she is my cousin.”
“Leave it be, Nicholas,” Somerton warned. “There are some things that should never be inspected too closely.”
“Indeed. However, should I desire to marry her, would you object?”
Somerton crossed his arms over his chest. “I do not believe it is my decision to make.”
“True,” Nicholas replied with a nod. “But in order to marry her, I might just need to discover her father’s identity in order to placate my father. Would you happen to know?”
Somerton’s jaw tightened. “I suggest you question Sophie in that regard.”
“I could do that. But we both know you can discover information on any person.”
“I am retired from that business, Nicholas.”
“Are you? Or is there another reason you would prefer not to get involved?” Nicholas stared at Somerton’s tight stance. He knew Sophie’s secret. Nicholas had no doubt. But he also knew that Somerton would take her secret to the grave if necessary.
“Both.” Somerton turned on his heels and walked away before Nicholas could question him further.
Chapter 13
It had been four days since the Blackburns’ ball and Nicholas had still not seen Sophie. He attempted to call on her several times, only to be turned away. He’d visited all of her friends’ homes with vague excuses for calling. He had even ventured to the opera and spent the entire time combing the audience for a glimpse of her.
His valet brushed out his jacket and then slid it over his shoulders. Tonight was the Tilsons’ soiree. He wondered if she would attend. Without calling on her, he had no way of knowing. Perhaps he could drive by her home on the way.
It was exceedingly difficult to make a woman jealous if he never saw her.
“All set, my lord.”
“Thank you, Lane.”
“The carriage is waiting for you.”
“There is no need to wait up for me tonight,” Nicholas said.
“Yes, my lord.”
Nicholas walked up to Emma’s room and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she said.
He entered the room to find her sitting at her dressing table, brushing her dark hair. “Good evening, Emma.”
“Papa, you look very handsome tonight.”
He took the brush out of her hand and grazed it through her tresses. It had been a long time since he brushed his daughter’s hair. He’d missed it. Before her governess arrived, this had been their time together. After brushing and braiding her hair, they would read together in her bed.
He placed the silver brush down. “Do you think I can still put your hair into a queue?”
She laughed. “You haven’t done that in years.”
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