The Seduction of Sophie Seacrest (12 page)

“Yes,” she stumbled, “I mean, no. Drat, I do
mean yes. If you are bent on punishment, then you must punish me
also.”

His gaze narrowed on his sister. “Why would I
do that?”

She shrugged. “I provided the book and set
the rules.”

“Julia!”

She threw him a pitiful look. “I know. I’m
dreadful. Punish me, not them.”

Jason rubbed the back of his neck and wished
for the hundredth time their mother had lived to teach Julia proper
manners of comportment. He’d tried over the years, but she knew
full well how to persuade him to permit breeches when she rode and
her friendship these past several months with Francie Bishop had
only exacerbated the situation. That woman let a dog and a damn
duck run loose in her library!

“Jason, I promise to cease providing
information regarding Gregory Thurston.”

“Good. Cease doing so immediately.”

“You have my word.” She slid off the edge of
the desk and stood before him.

“Yes?” He tried to sound stern but failed as
he always did with matters concerning his sister.

“May I please congratulate Sophie?”

“Julia.”

“Think what this union means. Not only will
we gain the return of our brother, but I’ll regain my best
friend.”

Jason shifted in his chair. “I don’t know.
Holt merely informed me they were marrying in three week’s time and
said he would discuss the rest when he returned from London.”

“Oh, Jason, don’t you see? Holt would never
ask her to marry him and not reveal his true identity. That would
be lunacy. You’ll see. I’ll invite her to dinner this evening and
by the end of the meal we’ll be laughing about this.”

Once again, Jason could not resist the
pleading look she gave him, and in the end, consented. Only after
Julia left did the niggling doubt return. What reason would Holt
have for keeping his identity a secret? Not Seacrest Shipping for
he could have easily controlled or crushed the business had he a
mind to do so. But what if Holt were in love with Sophie? What if
he didn’t want to reveal his identity just yet for fear she’d
reject him? Then, there might be a
need
for subterfuge. That
possibility left Jason shaken until he recalled his brother’s words
and relaxed. Holt didn’t believe in love. Period.

***

Sophie glanced up from her easel as the horse
and rider descended the hill. Only one woman handled a mount with
such precision and skill; Julia Langford. Sophie watched her old
friend’s approach with a mixture of curiosity, longing, and
apprehension. They’d had no more than a few chance encounters over
the years and those had been awkward and unsettling. Sophie missed
her dear friend and cursed the fate that had ripped them apart. She
wanted to welcome Julia with a warm embrace, but duty and
responsibility overshadowed instinct. “Julia,” she offered a cool
smile, “this is something of a surprise.”

“Is it really a surprise, Sophie? How long
did you think I could wait to see you?” Julia dismounted quickly
and rushed forward. “I just returned from the continent yesterday
or I would have called on you last evening!” Her smile grew
radiant, excitement bubbling in her voice as she reached for
Sophie’s hands, squeezed them tightly for a moment before releasing
them to grab her skirts and twirl around. She laughed until, out of
breath, she collapsed to the ground.

“Whatever are you doing?”

Julia laughed again. “I’ve come to offer my
congratulations on your upcoming nuptials.”

“You know?”

“Of course, I know.”

“Well, thank you.” She supposed it was only
proper for Gregory to inform his hosts of something as eventful as
a marriage. Still, she would have preferred the Langfords know as
little as possible about her family.

Julia sat up and said, “I know I should have
waited until Holt got back to make the formal announcement, but
I’ve missed you so. We’re going to be sisters!” She smiled and
closed her eyes. “Isn’t it just too much?”

“Sisters?” What on earth was she blabbering
about? And then, “Holt’s back?” Visions of a scrawny young boy with
dark hair and a pale face flashed through her brain.

Julia’s eyes flew open and she jumped up, her
face suddenly gone white. “Yes,” she hesitated and added, “Holt’s
back.”

She did not sound certain of her answer.
“Well, give him my regards.” Sophie pictured the poor young man who
couldn’t walk across the room without stumbling.

Julia swallowed several times, her eyes
brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be upset with him.
He was going to tell you.”

“What are you talking about?” Julia had
always been a bundle of energy, bouncing from one totally unrelated
thought to another but she made absolutely no sense.

Julia bit her lower lip and blinked hard. “I
should never have come and now I fear it is too late.”

Sophie grew impatient with her old friend’s
blathering. “Julia, what you
are
talking about?”

“Holt.”

“Your brother.” The poor, awkward young man
who hid behind his books . . .

Julia nodded. “Holt,” she repeated, “is . .
.”

“Yes?” Sophie attempted to stifle a sigh but
it slipped past her lips. “Holt is?”

“Gregory Thurston.”

“Absurd.”

“It’s true.”

“No.”
No.
“Holt Langford was a gangly
young man who couldn’t lift an ink blotter without spilling it on
himself. His skin was so pale it appeared translucent. I never
thought he’d live to see his twentieth year.” Sophie threw her a
knowing look. “Gregory Thurston could squeeze the life out of your
brother with a mere glance.”

“It’s Holt,” Julia whispered in a pained
voice. “Jason didn’t recognize him at first either. None of the
servants know who he really is but I could tell from the eyes.”

“It can’t be.”

“Please don’t be mad at him for not telling
you. I know he intended to very soon.” Julia paused a moment,
beseeching Sophie to understand. “He started this charade about his
identity because he didn’t want anyone to shove the title at him
should he choose not to accept it. He created his own spider’s web
when he hid his real identity from you, but the man you’ve come to
know and have feelings for is Holt Langford, the new Earl of
Westover.”

Holt Langford?
It seemed impossible
but Julia had no reason to lie. How ironic the man she opened her
heart to should turn out to be a Langford.

“Sophie? Are you all right?”

No, she would never be all right. She gave a
false smile, carefully avoiding Julia’s eyes. “I’m fine. I’m
certain there are many young women who find themselves in similar
predicaments, don’t you agree?” She began gathering her
paintbrushes. “After all, a woman about to marry a man should not
necessarily hope to learn his real name, should she?”

“Sophie, please—”

“Indeed not. I suppose once the marriage
takes place is soon enough. Yes, that sounds perfectly reasonable
to me.”

Julia fidgeted, staring uneasily at Sophie.
“Please, you’re taking this whole situation much too far.”

“It is I who is doing so?” Sophie shook her
head. “Oh no, Julia. This whole Langford charade has gone too far.
Gregory —
Holt
, has gone too far and I am the unfortunate
one caught in his web of deceit.” She bit the inside of her cheek,
determined she would show her grief to no one, least of all Holt
Langford’s sister. She would not allow herself to consider
forgiving him. The man had deliberately deceived her and then there
was the whole Langford issue. He was heir to her family’s chief
rival. Had his interest in her been fueled by his desire to obtain
Seacrest Shipping? Of course! The Earl of Westover could choose any
marriage partner he desired and yet he had chosen
her
to
avenge his family. He cared not a fig for her. The pieces all fit,
nice, tidy, and exceedingly ugly. “I must ask that you not speak a
word of our conversation to anyone until I have a chance to meet
with your brother.”

“But what will you say to him?”

Sophie looked away and said nothing.

“Of course, I’ll keep quiet.” Julia’s voice
turned desperate. “He should have told you, Sophie. I’ll admit
that, but no matter, you care for one another. You’ll work this
out. Won’t you?”

Chapter 14

Holt couldn’t wait to get home. London had
been crowded and stifling and all he’d thought of the last three
days was getting back to Sophie. For years, home had been a ship
and whatever port he docked in. But lately, he’d actually been
thinking about the possibility of a real home,
his home
,
inhabited by people he cared about and who cared about him.
Especially Sophie.

He recalled the last time they’d been
together. She’d cursed him in one breath and melted against him the
next. He’d been with enough women to concede making love with
Sophie created feelings in him he couldn’t identify and certainly
didn’t want to acknowledge. As his phaeton drew closer to Ellswood,
Holt concentrated on what he would say to Sophie this evening.
There was the little matter of his true identity, which he must
deal with posthaste. He didn’t like deceiving her, however
innocently it had begun. He wanted to hear her say she accepted the
man he was, not the title or family, and then he wanted to hear his
real name on her lips as she clung to him and reached her
fulfillment.

Twilight hovered over Ellswood when the
phaeton finally rolled to a stop. Holt bound from it and raced up
the entrance to his home. “Good day, Jaffe.” He actually smiled at
the ancient butler. “Where’s that brother of mine?”

Jaffe cleared his throat before announcing in
his most dignified manner, “Mr. Jason is visiting one of the
properties and is not expected to return until later this
evening.”

“And my sister?” He continued talking as he
headed toward the stairs. “Is she here?”

“Lady Julia has taken to her quarters
pleading a headache.”

“Very well. I’ll be leaving shortly.” He
almost told the old man where he was headed, but tomorrow would be
time enough to shake up the household with news of his real
identity and his betrothal.

An hour later, Holt traveled the short
distance to Waverly Manor. Soon, he’d pull Sophie into his arms,
taste the sweetness of promise on her lips, and breathe in the
intoxicating scent that was uniquely her. Who would have thought he
would actually want a wife? Only one obstacle stood in the way of
complete happiness and he would rectify that tonight. Sophie would
not take kindly to the deception. He would have to handle her with
kid gloves if they were to get through this with a minimum of
upset, and they would get through this. After all, she cared for
him. Didn’t she?

Why then was he experiencing a growing
uneasiness as Waverly Manor came into view? He couldn’t put a name
to it, but the gnawing in the pit of his stomach warned him that
despite his optimistic viewpoint, his impending encounter with his
fiancé would not be a pleasant one.

***

The drawing room was dim save for the glowing
flames of the fire. The end of summer warred with fall and by
night’s end admitted defeat as the cool airs permeated the
darkness, necessitating a fire to cut the chill outside. Sophie
stared at the jumping flames but saw nothing past the treachery
that consumed her. He hadn’t cared about her at all and that
realization proved almost unbearable. But she
would
bear it
and she
would
go on because she had responsibilities and no
one to blame for her foolishness but herself.

The door to the drawing room opened and she
knew it was him. She did not turn to greet him lest he see the pain
on her face. He approached her quietly and when he stood directly
behind her, he placed a gentle kiss on her neck.

“God, how I’ve missed you.” His hands settled
on her shoulders, molding them to his touch. His mouth became more
insistent as it searched the tiny hollows of her neck. “You feel
like heaven.”

She closed her eyes and braced herself for
what she must do. “Hello, Holt.”

She knew the instant her words registered;
just a hint of undue pressure on her shoulders before his hands
stilled. “What did you say?”

Sophie turned and met his carefully blank
expression. He was so very good at subterfuge. “Would you rather I
call you Lord Westover?”

“Who told you?”

She merely stared at him. She must ignore the
pain in her heart for that was caused by treachery, nothing
more.

“Tell me, dammit.” When he realized she was
not going to answer, he cursed and headed for the half-full bottle
of whiskey on the sideboard. Not until he’d downed his first
whiskey and poured another, did he speak. “I never intended for any
of this to happen. When I returned to England after Edward’s death,
I had little intention of accepting his title or any of the
trappings. I certainly had no intention of getting involved with
you. Jason asked for my help settling the dispute between Seacrest
and Langford Shipping. It seemed the least I could do after all the
years he’d spent here while I was off chasing one adventure or
another. I made him and Julia promise to keep my identity a secret.
That way, when the job was done, I could exit gracefully and no one
would be the wiser.”

“How very clever of you.”

He shot her a dark look and continued, “You
changed everything. I no longer knew what I wanted.” He paced the
floor, his eyes averted. “Christ, I couldn’t get through a day
without wanting to hear your voice or see your face. It was
unmanning me. So, I thought to make you my mistress and end the
torment. You know what happened on that count.” His laugh rang out
cold and humorless. “The day I visited your father, I had no
intention of offering for you, but after the arrangements had been
made, I was certain it was exactly what I wanted to do.” He pinned
her with a deep, searching stare. “And of course, after the
incident at the cottage, it was the only gentlemanly thing
to
do.”