Badcock (9 page)

Without hesitation, he enveloped her in an embrace. Sophia let out the breath she’d been holding.

“I wish this moment would never end,” she whispered against his skin.

He hugged her tighter in response.

“What’s happening between us?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“I don’t even know you and yet…I can’t stop thinking about you, about being with you,” she confessed.

“You do know that I would never have taken advantage of you had I not thought you were someone else,” he said.

She stared. He’d told her as much. She wanted to believe him. “You thought I was Lady Huntingdon.”

“Yes. For that I humbly apologize,” he said and laughed. “I met her at a masque last year and…that was about the time my father died.”

Sophia listened. She wished she’d known him then—before her engagement to Ralph. Before Jack’s to Hilda von Kesselring.

He continued. “I was rather reckless before I inherited the earldom.”

“You’re still reckless,” she said, tracing circles on his chest with her fingertip.

“Agreeing to dress up like a highwayman and abduct a woman out from under her husband’s nose was to be my last hurrah before marriage,” he said, chagrined. “You must have thought I was mad.”

“I suppose I did,” Sophia told him. “But I didn’t care. I, too, wanted to be reckless. Just that once.”

“Once, it appears, was not enough,” he said and smiled.

Sophia’s stomach turned a somersault.
A million times would never be enough for me.

He sighed. “Now I find myself tediously managing my estate and dreading returning to the House of Lords.”

“What about the countess? Are you looking forward to the marriage?” Sophia couldn’t help but ask.

“I’ve never even seen her,” he said. “In fact, I’m not certain she even speaks English. My German is
furchtbar
at best.”

Sophia laughed. “It’s not horrible.”

He snorted. “I just can’t imagine listening to someone speaking German in the throes of passion.”

Sophia didn’t want to imagine Jack in the throes of passion with anyone else. “Do you ever think it’s terribly unfair that we, as aristocrats, are made to marry for position and title?”

“I’ve never questioned it,” Jack said.

“I hadn’t either—until that day on Hounslow Road.”

He pinned her with a stare as if he were gauging her veracity.

“You asked me if I
wanted
to marry Ralph,” she said. “You must have at least considered the possibility.”

“I was wrong to ask you that.”

“Why did you?” she prodded, dying to hear that he loved her, that he wanted her instead of his German countess.

“Sophia, you are engaged to a duke. Do you realize that you will be a duchess? That your children could one day be in line for the throne?” he asked.

“Is that the delicate way of saying I’m meant to be nothing more than a brood mare?” Renewed anger at the lack of control she had over her situation roiled.

“I haven’t considered it that way,” he said. “I suppose the trade is a life of comfort and leisure.”

Sophia shot up on one elbow and looked down at him. “Comfort? I’d rather be a happy farmer’s wife than be married to Lord
Wisbech
.”

Jack grimaced. “Oh, I forgot about
him
. He appears as if he pays more attention to fashion than most women but as far as faces go, he doesn’t look too ungainly.”

“That’s just it. He cares for no one but himself.”

Jack threaded his fingers into the thick hair at her temple. “As you said earlier, it is your duty to marry him.”

Sophia stared for a moment before she rested her head on his chest. “Why did you ask me if I wanted to marry him?” she inquired again, her voice muffled by his skin.

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Ride me, love.”

“Answer my question.”

“I’ve already compromised you,” he said.

“Why, Jack?” She was adamant.

He flipped her onto her back and branded her neck and collarbone with kisses that threatened her very sanity.

“Stop,” she said unconvincingly. “Talk to me.”

Her hands wound into his thick hair as he moved to her breasts. He laved one nipple while he tugged the other one with possessive intent. Sophia arched into his touch. “Please answer me,” she mewled.

But his kisses were traveling farther down, across the sensitive plane of her stomach and lower to where he nudged his shoulders in between her thighs. Sophia’s protests died on her lips as his head descended and his tongue found her treasures.

The pleasure was too much to bear. She drew her knees up, allowing him to push them wide open until the muscles strained and burned. No place was sacred. He licked and suckled and prodded with his tongue until Sophia was a writhing mass willing to allow him anything he wanted.

Bliss crept closer, lurking just outside her reach. Moaning his name, she tugged his hair, holding his head captive where she wanted him the most. “Oh yes,” she gasped. “There. Don’t stop.”

His mouth latched onto her clitoris. His tongue vibrated over the keen little bud, bringing her closer and closer. A finger pushed its way into her channel to arouse her even further. Finding some magical spot, he tickled and teased and Sophia exploded.

Glorious vibrations undulated, glimmering from her center to the tips of her toes and fingers like a storm-driven tide. Still floating, she became vaguely aware of his kisses moving back up her body until he was inside her again. Thrusting. Holding. Kissing.

Senseless, Sophia clung. Still whirling, she realized he’d pulled out of her and pushed her hand down to where she gripped him to milk every last drop of his essence onto her stomach.

Awareness didn’t return until she felt his mouth at her ear. “I asked you if you wanted to marry him because I want you with me.”

Immense joy flooded Sophia. Her eyes flew open and she pushed at his shoulders until he lifted himself far enough up to look into her eyes. “You what?”

“When I thought you were Lady Huntingdon, I resigned myself to a life of clandestine meetings but when I discovered you were not yet married, I realized that we could be together,” he said.

Her heart soared. He wanted to
marry
her? “But how will I get out the contract with Lord
Wisbech
?” she asked.

“I will come forth. I will announce that I’ve compromised you.”

“My parents would be mortified,” she said, imagining their reactions.

“There’s no other way,” he said.

Sophia sighed. “My father worked so hard to get Ralph to uphold the contract after…after you abducted me. Papa even increased the dowry. Perhaps you could offer to accept a lesser dowry.”

Jack suddenly appeared stricken. His smile faded. “Oh, Sophia…I’ve misled you.”

A cold chill swept over her heart. She swallowed. “Misled me?”

“I…I wasn’t speaking of marriage. I’m contracted to Countess Hilda,” he said. “I was asking you to become my…my mistress.”

Hot tears pricked her eyes. A hard lump welled in her throat. Jack wasn’t asking her to marry him. Not at all. He was asking her to give up a lofty title to be his…whore.

She sucked in a faltering breath.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said and tried to kiss her.

Sophia twisted her head away from him. “Leave.”

“Sophia?”

“Leave. Get out. It’s almost dawn. Someone will see you here,” she said, refusing to look at him.

For what seemed an eternity, he remained motionless but finally, the bed shook as he climbed out of it. Sophia turned onto her stomach and held her breath as he dressed and then disappeared through the servant entrance to her room.

Only when she was certain that he was gone, did she allow herself to give in to the tears. Although she’d been crushed by Jack’s declaration that he wanted her only for a mistress, a part of her had wanted to accept even that little part of life with him. The more reasonable part of her knew she could never bear sharing him with another woman—especially one that he would call his wife.

Marrying Ralph and tolerating his cruelty would be less of a punishment.

* * * * *

Jack found Armageddon where he’d left him tethered to a tree. After untying the reins, he swung into the saddle and dug his heels in. The horse galloped into the darkness.

It seemed every time he left Sophia he felt more and more an ass. Why did she seem to bring out the worst in him?

The sun crept up over the horizon, back lighting the woods and casting them in an eerie glow to which Jack was all but oblivious. He’d had no right to make such a request of her. She was engaged to marry a duke. She wasn’t some shepherd’s daughter or even a lesser or impoverished aristocrat. She was a woman with a future—a future he’d nearly destroyed.

Did he not have any more self control than to slip into the bed chamber of an unmarried woman and ravage her?

She was right to order him out.

He’d tried to keep his mouth shut. He hadn’t wanted to tell her but right there with his spent cock still pulsating between them, the words had bubbled up out of his throat before he’d been able to stop himself.

His mistress.

He wanted to kick himself. Hard.

He hardly knew the woman. It wasn’t as if they were in love. Hell, he’d never been in love. But he knew well enough to realize that this was an infatuation. Perhaps after they were both married and had produced heirs, he would resume his seduction of Sophia.

But until then, he knew he had to do his damnedest to stay away from her.

Since the first time he’d kissed her on Hounslow Road, he’d been addicted to her, poisoned by her. No woman had ever consumed his thoughts or dictated his fantasies the way Sophia reigned over them.

He’d wanted to turn her over his knee, to dominate her into submission until she agreed to willingly become his mistress. He wanted to tie her hands, to spank her. God, how she loved that! No other woman had ever responded to him the way she did. It was as if she were as obsessed with him as he was with her.

Even now, he wanted to spin his horse around and ride straight back but he knew he couldn’t do that. As duty-bound as she was to marry Lord
Wisbech
, he was evenly obligated to Lady Hilda. Neither of them could shirk their commitments without severe repercussions.

As Armageddon trotted along, Jack hung his head. Sophia had thought he wanted to marry her. At the time, he hadn’t known that was what caused the look of joy in her eyes but…it had been genuine joy. She’d seemed truly thrilled at the prospect of becoming his wife.

“Well,” he mused aloud. “She’s young. She has a lot to learn. Lust does not a happy marriage make.”

But it never hurt.

Amidst all Jack’s other confusion there was one thing he knew for certain. He must forget all about Sophia
Astley
, for in a week’s time she would be married to another man.

Chapter Six

Shortly after noon, Sophia dragged herself downstairs. Her whole body ached and worse, her heart was shattered. In a matter of seconds, she’d gone from ecstatic to crushed.

Mistress.

She shuddered. She couldn’t imagine herself closeted away in some London flat, shunned by society while she waited for Jack to leave his wife and heirs to devote time to her. “Unacceptable,” she muttered aloud as she neared the breakfast room where her parents were still dining.

She stopped just outside the doorway when she heard her name mentioned.

“Lady Huntingdon seems to have taken quite a shine to Sophia,” her mother said.

Her father let out a harrumph. “Someone needs to take that girl under their wing and teach her how to behave.”

“I’m not certain Lady Huntingdon is the proper person for that but apparently she has invited our Sophia to go visiting with her tomorrow. Look at this invitation.”

No!
Sophia clenched her fists. She would not go anywhere with that awful woman. Lady Huntingdon only wanted to taunt and torment her about Jack. Sophia had no doubt of it.

She just would refuse the invitation. Summoning all her courage, she strode into the breakfast room. “Good morning, Mama. Papa.”

“Sophia!” her mother greeted. “You’ve received the loveliest invitation from Lady Huntingdon.”

“I have no time for invitations. My wedding is Saturday next,” Sophia said blandly as a servant appeared to draw her chair out for her.

Her mother’s eyebrows knitted up. “Peter?”

“You’ll accept and you’ll go,” he barked.

Sophia seethed. “I found the woman detestable.”

He leaned forward. “You will accept and you will go. And you will keep your opinions of others to yourself.”

* * * * *

When Lady Huntingdon’s carriage arrived, Sophia was surprised to discover two other ladies would be accompanying them. Sophia knew the Honorable Miss Pansy Pettigrew but did not know the other young woman, introduced to her as Miss Lydia Markham, whose father was a baronet.

“My dear Sophia,” Lady Huntingdon greeted with false sincerity.

Sophia tried not to cringe. An elegantly attired footman stood by the coach to help her inside. Once she was in and seated, the carriage was underway.

“And to think,” Lady Huntingdon said. “By this time next week, you’ll be a duchess.”

Sophia didn’t need to be reminded. The wedding seemed as if it were hurtling toward her at breakneck speed and there was nothing she could do to prevent it from crashing headlong into her.

“I don’t know how your father managed it,” Lady Huntingdon said, still smiling prettily.

“Managed what?” Sophia asked and immediately regretted it when she realized she’d been baited.

Lady Huntingdon’s gaze flitted to Misses Pettigrew and Markham and then she contrived a look of shock. She leaned slightly forward. “To get Lord
Wisbech
to agree to uphold the contract—especially after what happened to you. Poor dear.”

Hot anger boiled in Sophia. She clenched her fists in the folds of her gown to keep from clawing the woman’s eyes out. How could Jack ever have mistaken her for this…this creature? The day had just begun and Sophia didn’t know if she had the resolve to continue. She’d been taught to hold her tongue in such cases but one swipe of a cat’s claw deserved another.