Stephanie Laurens - A Lady of Expectations

“Torture?” Sophie knew about torture. She was being tortured now, his hands touching her so skilfully she was gripped by an urgent longing. “What torture?”

“The torture of having to woo you, sweet Sophie.”

Sophie stirred, consumed by the sweetest ache. “Was it torture?”

“Torture and worse,” Jack vowed, his voice deep and raspy.

Sophie sighed. “What do you consider suitable recompense?” She just managed to get the words out before he stole her breath again with a caress so artful she thought she could faint. She didn’t, but the sensations didn’t stop, darting through her like lightning, spreading like warm fire beneath her skin.

Aeons filled with pleasure seemed to have passed before she heard his soft murmur.

“I know what I want as my reward for wooing you. Will you give it me?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a soft whisper on the breeze.

Jack raised his head, a smile twisting his lips. “I haven’t yet told you what I want.”

Sophie returned his smile with one of her own. “It had better be me-for that’s all I have to give you.”

For the first time in his rakish career, Jack was lost for words. He looked down into her eyes, passion-filled and mysterious. “Sophie.” His voice was hoarse, dark with his turbulent passions. “You’re all I’ll ever want.”

“Then take me,” Sophie murmured, wondering, very distantly, how she dared. She reached up and drew his lips to hers before her sane self could resurface and disturb the glorious moment.

Thereafter, her sanity or otherwise was not in question; desire caught her and held her until she glowed with its flame. Jack fed her fires, never letting her cool, until she ached for him to join her. When he did, it was as if the sun shone brightly out of the night-dark sky. Sophie surrendered to joy and delight and rapturous, delirious pleasure. For one timeless moment, she felt that she had flown so high she could touch the stars gleaming in the firmament. Then she softly drifted back to earth, safe, forever, in Jack’s strong arms.

The gentle rocking of the boat, and Jack’s heavy weight, drew her slowly back to reality.

Surprisingly, Sophie found her mind oddly clear, as if the sensations that had held her body in thrall had proved so overpowering that her wits had disengaged and retreated to a safe distance. She could feel the cool caress of the river breeze on her naked skin and her lover’s touch as, propped now beside her, he gently stroked her hair from her face. She opened her eyes and looked up. He was a dark shadow as he hung over her, solid and comforting in the moonlight. Sophie listened for the shush of the water under the hull-and made a discovery. “We’re not moving.”

Jack’s smile gleamed in the moonlight. “We’re moored. Off a private park. The men left us nearly an hour ago.” He reached up to spread out her curling hair, released from its moorings. “They’ll come back later and take us home. My carriage will be waiting at the steps.”

Sophie blinked. “You really did think of everything.”

His smile grew broader. “I always aim to please.” He shifted slightly, drawing her more comfortably into his arms and tucking a silk shawl tenderly about her. “And now that I’ve pleased you, how soon can we be wed?”

Still slightly dazed, Sophie stared up at him, marshalling her wandering wits.

“Not that I’m trying to rush you, my love, but there are any number of reasons why an early, if not immediate, wedding would suit us best.”

As he turned her hand over to press a kiss into her palm, and the touch of his lips stirred the embers that were only now dying within her, Sophie abruptly nodded. “I see your point.” She stopped to clear her throat, amazed she could think at all. “My father’s due back for a quick visit next month-can we wait until then?”

Jack raised his head to look down at her. “It might be hard.” He smiled, his usual crooked smile. “But I suspect we can wait until then.”

Sophie sighed, deeply content. She put up a hand to brush back the dark locks from his forehead. “You’ll have to marry me; you’ve thoroughly compromised me. We’ve been away for far too long.”

“I always intended to marry you. From the moment I first saw you in Lady Asfordby’s ballroom.”

Sophie studied his face in the moonlight. “Did you really?”

“From the moment I saw you dancing with that upstart Marston,” Jack admitted. “I was smitten then and there.”

“Oh, Jack!”

After the necessary exchange of affection brought on by that revelation, Sophie was the first to return to reality. “Dear Heaven,” she exclaimed weakly. “We’ve been gone for hours.”

Jack caught the hint of concern dawning in her voice. “Don’t worry. Horatio knows you’re with me.”

Fascinated, Sophie stared at him. “Did you tell my aunt, too?”

“Good God.” Jack shuddered. “What a horrible thought. If I had, I’d lay odds she’d have given me instructions. I don’t think my pride could have stood it.” Jack dropped a soft kiss on one delectable rosy peak. “Your aunt, my love, is just plain dangerous.”

Privately, Sophie agreed but was far too distracted to find words to say so. Sometime later, her mind drifting in dazed consideration of the future he had spread before her, the home, the family-everything she had ever wanted-with him by her side, she returned to his point. “Speaking of marriage, sir, you have not yet asked me to marry you.”

“I have-you quibbled and refused.”

Sophie smiled into the night. “But you’re supposed to ask me again, now that my uncle has given me permission to receive your addresses.”

Jack sighed lustily, then shifted to move over her, one elbow planted on either side, his expression arrogantly commanding. His eyes, deep dark pools within which passion still smouldered, transfixed her.

“Very well, Miss Winterton. For the very last time-will you marry me? I realize, of course, that you are only a lady of expectations and not an heiress. However, as it transpires, I neither need nor want a wealthy bride. You, my beautiful, desirable Sophie-” Jack bent his head to do homage to her lips “-will do just wonderfully. You, my love, fulfil all my expectations.” Another kiss stole her breath. “Every last one.”

A soft smile curving her lips, her gaze misty with happiness, Sophie reached up to slide her arms about his neck. Her acceptance was delivered, not in words but in those actions which, to her mind, and Jack’s spoke best.

AS THE WEBB CARRIAGE rocked into motion, leaving the shadows of Vauxhall behind, Lucilla sank back against the squabs. On the opposite seat, Jeremy and George yawned and closed their eyes, their faces wreathed in seraphic smiles. Behind, in the smaller carriage, Toby, Ned and Clarissa were doubtless still exclaiming over their exciting evening. Lucilla, however, was not impressed.

She had just been informed that Jack would be returning Sophie to Mount Street by a different route.

It was several long moments before she trusted herself to speak.

“And you told me not to meddle.” With an audible humph, she cast a disgusted glance at her spouse.

Horatio was too wise to answer. He smiled serenely, glancing upriver as the carriage rattled over the bridge.