Major Wyclyff's Campaign (A Lady's Lessons, Book 2) (14 page)

Again he reached for her, and she turned away, choosing to look out the window. Her gaze roved the moonlit night, but her senses focused behind her. On him.

"I have not left," he said. "I am here." He set his hands on her shoulders, and she tensed, half in fear, half in desire. "I want to have children with you, Sophia."

She bit her lip, startled by his sudden shift in topic and distracted by the strange longing his words produced. When she had decided to take the life of a spinster, she had mourned only one thing—that she would never have any children. It was still an ache, one that caught her unawares at times. Times like now, when a man's words conjured the most appealing of images: babies that looked like the major. Little boys with dark curly hair and a mischievous twinkle, and little girls with an impertinent tilt to their smiles.

"I want to marry you," he continued. "I want to make you my wife and bring you to my bed. I want to spread your golden hair across my pillow and kiss you until your skin glows with passion." Her body tensed with a new hunger, one she could not recall having experienced before. His words were as frightening as they were exciting, and she did not know what she should do or how she should respond.

"You—you should not speak so to me," she stammered.

"Then go, for I will not stop."

Sophia pressed her palms flat against the cool windowpane, using it to steady herself. But, before the temperature could do more than sensitize her hands, he pulled her back against him, pressing her intimately against his broad chest.

"You are different," she said. "You seem..." She hesitated, searching for the right words.

"Determined? Forceful?"

"Stronger," she corrected, her body growing inebriated by the word. He seemed so powerful that despite her determination to resist him, she wondered what it would be like to lie in his arms. To feel his force surrounding her body, holding it, invading it.

"I am tired, Sophia. I have played at butler long enough." His words were almost harsh, but his caress was sensual, warming her, molding her to his will. "I should return to London to see if my post has been approved. But I will not leave without you."

She could not answer. Not with him touching her, her back pressed intimately against his broad chest. She could not think other than to turn to face him, shifting so she could feel the width of his shoulders and brush her fingers along the rough cut of his jaw.

"Sophia?" His voice deepened, sounding unsteady as he caught her hand, holding it in his firm grasp. She could not respond except to rise up on her toes, seeking his kiss.

He did not deny her, though she felt his muffled groan as a whisper of heat, tantalizing as it feathered across her mouth. Then he claimed her lips, his touch as fevered as before, as hungry and as demanding. She matched his tongue stroke for stroke, knowing finally the passion spoken of so often by poets. Unlike last night's drunken exploration, these kisses seemed more pure, more intense because the only intoxication came from the major himself. From his touch. And her desire. Together.

It was a heady sensation, and it filled her with a giddy excitement. She was in his embrace, feeling his arms around her, encircling her, and drawing her tight against his body. For a moment she did not think, too absorbed in the wonder of his kiss.

Then he ended it, pulling her away from him, his hands firm on her arms. "You will marry me." It was not a question, and she let her head drop back as she looked up at the ceiling.

Her breathing was ragged, and she still felt drawn to him, the hunger he inspired in her all but overwhelming her. But for all her newly discovered passion, her mind was wholly clear—for perhaps the first time in her life. "I... I like kissing you, Major," she said, shocked by her own brazen behavior. "I wish to do it again. But I will not marry you."

He stared at her for a moment, then his eyes grew wide as her meaning finally became clear. "Sophia..." he said, and the sound was more growl than spoken word.

"No," she said again. But still she remained in his arms, stretching forward, seeking his kiss.

Angrily he set her aside, crossing to the brandy decanter on the opposite side of the room. He stood there, the crystal held in his fist, but he did not pour. Instead he glared at her. "By Heaven, why are you so stubborn?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she responded. "Why do you insist I marry you? For duty? For England?" Her voice rose as her emotions outstripped her control. "You do not respect me. You said so yourself. Why would I marry you?"

The major set down the decanter, shifting until he faced her directly, his arms crossed over his chest. "It is merely the thought that you would value yourself so little as to wish to... to..." He shifted awkwardly as he searched for a word.

"To kiss you?"

He straightened his shoulders, and Sophia wondered for a moment at his odd expression. "Yes. To... kiss me without marriage."

"I am a free woman now, Major. I can kiss any man I choose when I choose."

"You are still unmarried. It is not appropriate behavior—"

"I am a spinster. If I am thought fast, then no one is hurt but myself. I have no dowry, no prospects, and I no longer care about gossip. I will not become married merely to satisfy your notions of propriety or anyone else's. I will never again dance to society's tune."

He stared at her for a long moment, and Sophia did her best to remain resolute. It was imperative that he read her determination in every line of her face and body.

At last he bowed, his movement as formal as it was stiff. "Very well, Lady Sophia," he said in his coldest servile voice. "If there is nothing further, I shall retire. Morning comes early, and I would not wish to be remiss in my duties."

Sophia blinked, surprise making her step forward. "But you cannot mean to remain as our butler?"

The major merely raised an eyebrow, and Sophia folded her arms in disgust.

"You cannot be serious. Think, Major, it is insupportable that you will be forever underfoot, kissing me at nighttime, then serving me tea in the day!"

His expression did not change, but Sophia felt his sudden amusement, as if he had laughed out loud.

"Why are you so stubborn?" she exclaimed, belatedly realizing she echoed his very words back to him.

He merely shrugged. "You keep repeating the word freedom. I have lately come to realize that perhaps you are like a soldier on furlough, drunk on his own independence. You wish to try everything, including... kissing. I suspect you will grow bored in time. You will soon find life as empty as it was in London. Then you will turn to me."

Sophia felt her jaw go slack at the arrogance of the man. "You intend to be forever underfoot until such time as I grow bored? But, that is ridiculous!"

"It was successful tonight."

"Nonsense!" She was fervent in her protest, but suddenly she feared he was correct. She had left her bedroom intent on finding something—or rather, someone—and the thought made her even more irritated. "I will not marry you out of boredom!"

He merely sketched a mocking bow, telling her without words that he would wait and see. Watching him, Sophia knew her first moment of true worry. He was a strong man, and for some unknown reason, she had been drawn to him from the very beginning. Even in his sickbed, she had been anxious for him, coming directly to his side nearly every day of his recuperation.

How many times had she wondered at her own behavior? How many times had she tried to explain away her strange attraction to this arrogant, bull-headed man? And so she knew he was right. If she allowed him to remain in the house, forever around every turn, she had no doubt she would eventually capitulate. The man was simply too fascinating for her to hold out against him forever.

"Very well," she said, grasping at straws. "I shall make a bargain with you. If you agree to leave this house, to remove yourself immediately, I... I will consider your offer. I will allow you to court me. But, if in three weeks' time I have not changed my mind, you must leave Staffordshire immediately."

The major frowned, his expression pensive. "You will allow me to be your exclusive companion for three weeks? For every outing, every excursion?"

Sophia nodded. "But they must be my choice of excursions, my decision as to our destination."

"Of course. I shall be pleased to accompany you wherever you wish to go."

Sophia nodded, a plan already forming in her mind. "You will cease to function as our butler, and you must swear, on your honor, to leave the county if my answer is still 'no' at the end of three weeks."

He did not hesitate. "I swear."

Sophia took a deep breath, feeling a sudden elation. "We have a bargain?"

"We do," he said. Then he smiled, his brown eyes lit by the silvery caress of the moon. "I regret to inform you, Lady Sophia, that I am unable to continue as your butler. And I shall be pleased to call on you tomorrow at exactly two in the afternoon."

Sophia shook her head. "Aunt Agatha and I intend a trip to the milliner's. You may come the next day. At noon."

He bowed to her, his own expression smug. "Very well. Noon in two days. Good night, Lady Sophia." Then he left the room.

Sophia watched him go, her smile slowly fading as the door slipped shut behind him. She wished he had remained, sharing kisses with her to seal their agreement. But that was foolishness, she told herself. And that was exactly why she had insisted he depart. Because she was much too vulnerable around him. She might want to give a kiss, but he would want so much more.
      

At least in public, there would be no illicit kisses, no lingering caresses, no hunger for an unknown something that came alive whenever he was near.

Three weeks would be over in no time. Then, at last, she would be rid of him. The thought left her strangely sad, but she ignored it as something else struck her.

Remembering their conversation, Sophia realized that the major had agreed exceedingly quickly. There had been no hesitation in his voice. No reluctance in his demeanor. Could he already be tiring of her? Was this his way of retiring gracefully from the field?

Panic clutched at her heart even as her mind told her this was exactly what she wanted. Then she remembered his smile and the devious twinkle in his eyes. He had agreed to her proposal with such speed, as if... As if he had a plan of his own.

Sophia groaned. Of course he had a plan. What military man did not have a plan of some sort? Well, she decided, she would just have to devise a scheme of her own. Something that would put the major off her entirely. Some excursion that would shock him down to his regimented toes.

And she knew just the outing to do it.

Chapter 7

"The cockfights? You wish me to take you to a cockfight?" Anthony stared at Sophia, his thoughts reeling.

When she'd first suggested their bargain, he believed he had won. She merely wished for the formality of a courtship before accepting their marriage. Now, he saw that she once again intended to dissuade him.

But Anthony had not survived war in Spain without his own fair share of stubbornness. He would allow her this wild outing—if only to show her what a vulgar display a cockfight could be. He knew with certainty her first glimpse of the event would be enough to send her scurrying home. Lady Sophia was much too refined for so coarse an event.

"Very well," he said with a short bow. "Do you know of one we could attend?"

"Absolutely," she said with a radiant smile. "Mary tells me there shall be a fight today. There is a pit behind the butcher's home. Do you know where that is?"

Anthony nodded, feeling the movement pull at the taut muscles in his shoulders. "I know the place," he said curtly. Then his gaze traveled the length of her light rose walking dress, admiring her lush curves and remarkable features. "You might wish to change your gown. The field can get quite muddy."

Sophia smiled, her laughter rich and full. "Oh, no, Major. You shall not delay me today. If I took the time to change, I am certain the event would be over before we arrived."

"There is plenty of time yet," he responded evenly, but she merely shook her head.

"I am determined, Major. You cannot fob me off."