Page 54 of Dukes for Dessert

Not since he’d raised his head at Pierson’s breakfast table and seen Sophie’s extraordinary green eyes studying him in curiosity.

“Sophie.” The very name soothed his senses. She’d found a way to ease his troubles even when she’d been uncertain hers would ever vanish.

David sprang up, his energy returning. “I must go to her.”

He rushed for the door, but found Eleanor in front of him.

“Not yet.” Eleanor put a firm hand on his arm. “Give her time to let her changed situation sink in. She cannot go from being a married woman, however unhappily, to a single one in a heartbeat without some disturbance. She needs to find her equilibrium. Let her alone until my supper ball, which is three nights from now. I expect you to turn up, as I said, dressed in your finest.”

David gazed down at the woman who’d once broken his heart. Broke it, stomped on it, and then offered her hand and asked to be friends. A formidable woman, and a good one. Hart Mackenzie was a lucky man, but Eleanor belonged with him. She never had with David. Good thing she’d been so sensible all those years ago.

“God bless you, El.” The last dregs of David’s lethargy burned away. He took Eleanor’s hands and kissed her cheek. “You are too damned good to me. I will do as you command.” He grinned. “You are also terrifying. Small wonder Hart looks pale.” He kissed her cheek a second time and darted around her, avoiding her half-hearted swing. “Adieu, my friends.” He turned at the door and made a flourishing bow to her and Sinclair, the tall, quiet barrister who’d stood by him through it all. “And thank you. I am a most favored man.”

With that, he left them, his head full of plans, his heart light.

16

Sophie had never worn such a gown before. Made of rippling pink and green silk, it swept from a tight bodice to a flowing skirt, gathered in back with a knot of cloth roses. The bodice was cut a bit lower than she was used to, and very snug in the waist, its sleeves whispers of gauzy silk. Her washed and brushed hair was piled on her head in wonderful curls, a few of which cascaded to her shoulders. A simple necklet of pearls completed the costume. Isabella, to whom the Mackenzie ladies turned for all things fashion, had said the necklet was enough.

Sophie agreed. Already news of her annulment had spread through Town, and people stared as she moved about the ballroom. Always best to look elegant when one was the subject of all attention.

Too many tonight asked her, “What will you do now?”

Sophie had no idea. Simply breathing was enough.

She privately concluded she’d return to her uncle’s in Shropshire, not to hide, but to do something a bit more interesting than the same round of gatherings with the same people night after night.

As for the man responsible for her annulment…

She had not seen him. David had remained absent since the day Sinclair brought her the papers, and Eleanor had stated bluntly that she’d told him to leave Sophie be.

Wise, Sophie thought as she drifted through the crowd, a gracious smile on her stiff lips. The stares and sometimes blatant pointing unnerved her, but she kept her head high.

She suspected she would have made a grand fool of herself if David had returned to the house in the intervening days. She’d have flung her arms around him and covered him with kisses then backed away and shouted at him. And then rushed at him for more kissing.

She wanted more than that—if David had turned up, she might have torn his clothes from his body. She wanted to touch him, to kiss his skin…

Better to shout at him. He’d saved her and made her an object of fascination, pity, and amusement at the same time. She’d heard the whispers of Limp-Prick Laurie during her outings with Eleanor in the last few days, seen the sympathetic glances from the same whisperers. Laurie, it was rumored, had taken a sudden journey to the Continent. The widow he’d wished to marry rather abruptly turned her attentions to another.

The ballroom Sophie moved through—quickly enough that none could engage her in conversation—was full. Eleanor had invited most of the polite world tonight, presenting Sophie to them as Miss Tierney.

The Mackenzie brothers, tall Scotsmen in formal kilts, mingled with the guests. Hart busied himself being the important man he was—making everyone dance to his tunes, Eleanor had murmured to her while gazing at him in open affection.

Cameron, the tallest of them, spoke animatedly about horses to a fascinated group. Ainsley stood near him, adding to the conversation, her love for her husband obvious.

Mac Mackenzie laughed loudly with his cronies, his charm in evidence. He drank lemonade, as did Isabella at his side. They were a vibrant and lovely pair, warming all around them.

Daniel Mackenzie, young and exuberant, led his wife about with apparent pride. Violet was a beautiful woman, with whom Sophie had already become friends. Their baby daughter, Fleur, was tiny and sweet.

Sophie had only briefly met Ian Mackenzie, the brother those outside the family regarded as mad. Ian didn’t look mad to Sophie as he walked through the crowd with Beth at his side, both of them calm and quiet. True, Ian did not engage in lively conversation like his brothers, but he did speak to people, usually after listening to them a time before breaking in with an apt observation.

Three of the McBride brothers had come as well—the fourth, Stephen, was with his regiment and his wife in Africa. Patrick and Rona, the patriarch and matriarch of the family, older than the others, were having a fine time. They’d raised the younger McBrides, Ainsley had told her. Sinclair had brought his wife, a merry-faced lady called Bertie. Sophie knew she’d started life in an East End gutter, but she was as stylish and gracious as any lady here, even if she winked at Sophie behind their backs.

Elliot McBride was quieter, but devastatingly handsome. More than one woman looked his way, but his wife, Juliana, at his side, was the only lady that held his gaze.

Sophie tried to calm her agitation by watching the Mackenzies and their friends, keeping herself to herself as much as she could without snubbing Eleanor’s guests.

Until, that is, a knot of people at the end of the room parted, and she saw David standing near a long window that led to the garden.

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