The Wedding Duel (The Dueling Pistols Series) (29 page)

Later, as the three of them rode to an "at home," Sophie plied them with questions. "Will there be dancing?"

"No dancing. We shall just make our way through the room and introduce you to as many people as possible," Amelia answered.

No dancing, no refreshments, a lot of names she would never remember, still, her eyes glittered with excitement. Keene almost regretted picking the bland soiree for Sophie's first exposure to the ton.

Their carriage inched forward, caught in the crush of people to arrive. "Is it always like this?"

"Usually." Amelia cast an inquiring look in Keene's direction.

He leaned back against the squabs, holding his silence. His voice might reflect the feeble grip on his control. He wanted nothing more than to stare into his wife's luminous eyes and make her his. Her enthusiasm infected him with desire.

Sophie leaned forward and looked out the window. Her décolletage dipped dangerously low. He wanted to feast on the sight. He shut his eyes. How was he to make it through the next few months with her so near?

He should have sent her back to his father's house, out of temptation's reach.

Finally, they stopped in front of the house's steps. Keene slid out and reached back to hand out the women. Sophie didn't wait. With her skirts gathered around her knees, she leaped off the stair. The sight of her sheer pink stockings and the glimpse of bare skin above her garters made his blood fire.

He swallowed hard. "Lower your skirts."

She raised her startled face. "I didn't want to rip them."

He could drown in the blue pools of her eyes.

Keene appealed to Amelia. How could he explain what the sight of Sophie's legs did to him? He folded his arms across his chest to prevent himself from reaching out and lifting her back into the carriage to spirit away home to bed.

Amelia looked between them. "Keene would have assisted you. Any gentleman would."

Keene leaped forward, realizing he'd been remiss in assisting Amelia. He held out a hand. She placed her fingers in his and gracefully descended the carriage stairs.

Sophie chewed her lip.

Keene wanted to give her mouth a very different sort of attention. What was wrong with him that he was acting like a green boy on the verge of losing his virginity?

He held out his elbows to both women. Underneath his superfine jacket perspiration dampened his shirt. He couldn't spend the evening circulating in such an aroused state.

Once they had made it up the stairs and into the congested salon, Keene bowed and said, "I'll leave you ladies to your own devices. I shall return in an hour."

"He's leaving?" His withdrawal made Sophie's question moot.

Amelia leaned close. "Don't worry about it. This crush isn't Keene's favorite pastime, but it is a good place for you to get your bearings." She turned to greet a gentleman in clocked socks.

Amelia gently steered Sophie to meet person after person. Many were curious, and she managed to lightheartedly say she had no idea what Keene was about. Amelia nodded encouragingly until Sophie could paste a smile on her face and convince others that husbands were mysterious, contrary beasts, and that his absence meant nothing.

Inside, as she absorbed the animated style of talk, she wished he were there. But then, when had Keene ever done anything other than ignore her and leave her to her own devices?

She grew cross that her thoughts revolved around her absent husband when she should be enjoying the high life she had so yearned to experience. His disapproval was far too overblown and hurt much worse than any reproach her father had ever laid at her door. And considering the source, it made her angry.

She laughed harder and spoke faster. Amelia gave her a gentle smile and hung back, only stepping into the conversations when Sophie grew too animated.

Sophie vowed she would enjoy this evening, if it killed her. To perdition and back with Keene.

Amelia led her across the room to a woman surrounded by a crowd. "This is Lady Jersey, one of the patronesses of Almack's. She's very important," Amelia whispered.

The crowd parted at Amelia's light gesture. "Lady Jersey, allow me to introduce you to the new Mrs. Davies."

Sophie doubted if she could ever emulate the easy grace Amelia used. She would have tugged on a man's jacket or shoved through the throngs of people. Sophie felt like a gauche country bumpkin compared to Amelia.

Lady Jersey nodded, unmasked curiosity lighting her countenance. "So you are the young lady who absconded with one of our most eligible bachelors."

Amelia watched her out of the corner of her eye. Sophie wondered if she should act like a cat who swallowed a canary or one that lapped up sour milk.

"I'm not so sure that Davies didn't steal her from all the hopeful gentlemen." Amelia gave a soft smile.

Sophie finally found her voice. "I'm quite sure I've done a service to all the other young ladies who might have considered him a prize."

"You do not?" Lady Jersey's voice had an edge, and Amelia sucked in a startled breath.

Like a cat dropped upside down, Sophie needed to scramble fast to get her feet underneath her. She thought of her wedding day when they had embraced in the snow and of the interrupted kiss yesterday. "When he is not cross with me, I am quite fond of him."

"Our Keene is cross? I can't imagine."

"Quite. I daresay we know each other too well."

Lady Jersey smiled. "How long have you known him?"

"Since I was born. We are distant cousins. He stayed with us every summer. I remember when he used to hitch horses to the dogcart and take the corner of our drive at full gallop until he could do it without landing in the ditch or scraping the pillars." She was rattling like a spook with a chain.

"I can't imagine Keene in a ditch."

"I don't think he liked it much. He liked that I saw it even less." He'd probably be totally disgusted that she had compounded her transgression on his privacy by blabbing it to the world.

"You must be the cousin he nearly drowned," said Lady Jersey.

"No, he saved me once when I fell into the river."

Lady Jersey shook her head. "I am quite sure he claimed to have pushed you in. I imagine you both have amusing anecdotes to share about each other. Funny, he is such a dark horse that none of us thought he should ever marry. I shall be at home tomorrow afternoon, do stop by, ladies."

"We should love to," answered Amelia.

"I do so hope I will see you at the Wednesday assemblies. I am sure you will want to speak with Countess Lieven. She is just over there. Good evening, Mrs. Davies, Mrs. Keeting." Lady Jersey turned to greet another eager aspirant.

Amelia turned to Sophie, a rare, full-blown smile on her face. "You did it!"

"I did what?"

"Secured vouchers for Almack's. By the stars, it took me weeks. I was so afraid to speak to the patronesses that I could hardly do more than mumble when they were around."

"I was speaking off the top of my head."

Amelia patted her hand. "You did a grand job. Keene will be thrilled."

"Not if he learns I have been telling tales about him." He'd probably strangle her. It was a good thing she hadn't told about the time she convinced him to jump his horse over the paddock gate and he'd parted ways with his mount and landed in a pile of offal.

"We shall have to call on her, of course, but it is truly wonderful. Let us go talk to the countess before she leaves."

"Of course." Sophie stared across the crowded room, her mind wandering back to the day many years ago when Keene had pulled her from the water. He claimed to have pushed her? Better yet, had he actually remembered her existence when he wasn't rescuing her?

A young woman caught her eye. Sophie eagerly waved, before she remembered she should have consulted with Amelia about the acceptability of doing so.

Amelia frowned ever so slightly, but by the time the dark-haired woman shouldered her way across the room, Amelia's face was a pleasant mask of serenity.

"We meet again," said Sophie's acquaintance from the dressmaker's.

"I would like to introduce you to my friend"—Sophie copied Amelia's style of introduction—"Mrs. Keeting, this is Miss Chandler."

Mary Frances extended her hand. Amelia slowly leaned forward to return the gesture. Her words dripped with reserve although Sophie couldn't find fault with her manner. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Mary Frances beamed. "I am so delighted to see you again. We must get together. Are you perchance attending the coming-out ball of Miss Cecilia Covens, Friday next? We were at school together."

"I believe I might know her older sister," said Amelia.

Sophie could almost feel her escort relax. After they had spoken a few minutes and Mary moved away to speak with someone else, Sophie turned to Amelia and said, "I should have asked before I hailed her, but I was so eager to see someone I met on my own. Did I make a mistake introducing you to Miss Chandler?"

"No, Miss Chandler is apparently accepted in polite company, but I shouldn't make fast friends with her. She comes from trade." Amelia's eyes widened, "Oh, no!"

"What?" asked Sophie.

"How are you, my angel?" asked a familiar voice just behind her left ear.

Sophie swiveled around and encountered the urbane good looks of Lord Algany.

"I'm well enough, and you?" Sophie answered politely.

Algany smiled in a way that might be considered charming; Amelia squeezed her elbow.

"Where is your keeper?"

"Keene? He's not a keeper, he's my husband." And not much good at either.

Amelia's hand tightened, and she tried to pull Sophie back. Only, in the crush, there was nowhere to go.

Algany flicked his gaze over Amelia. "And where is your husband, my dear Mrs. Keeting?"

Sophie stepped forward. "They'll be along soon enough. One does need to part company now and then."

Algany's gaze transferred back to Sophie. "I quite agree. A diet should always be full of variety. As the same food time after time grows boring."

Sophie blinked and wondered if she should just disagree on principle. "I would imagine you have enough experience to know . . ."

Algany smiled a wolfish smile.

". . . what is pleasing to you, of course. But I fear there are those of us who would dine on the same fare night after night and never grow tired of it."

"Oh, you shall grow tired of the same meal. And I shall be happy to be your guide in exploring new tastes when you do." He leaned his head sideways and his heavy-lidded gaze assessed Amelia again. "Whenever you should like a supper companion, I'm ready to aid." He bowed slightly and moved away.

"Oh, Lord," whispered Amelia. Her hand against her chest, her eyes followed Algany's movements across the room.

"What?" asked Sophie.

"You shouldn't encourage him." Amelia's attention remained riveted on him.

"I was trying to discourage him." Sophie rather thought that her dissuasion was compelling Algany to look for greener pastures in Amelia.

"He's ruined more than one young lady. How could you have allowed him to take you to the theater?"

"I didn't know."

Amelia's rapt fascination with Lord Algany's retreating figure ended. Her soft gaze landed on Sophie's face, and after a second of studying her, she said, "How could you? Even those who are warned off, fall prey to his magnetism. They say he will resort to foul means if he can't get what he wants by fair."

"I really don't find him all that charming."

"You don't? He's very good-looking."

Sophie shrugged. She thought he was rather full of himself and pushy. Although, truth to tell, on this evening in the polite company, he hadn't pushed particularly hard.

"Yes, really, why would you want the attentions of Lord Algany when you are married to Keene?"

Yes, why indeed? Except her marriage to Keene left her feeling unfulfilled. She didn't think Algany would make her feel any better, not when, like Keene, he seemed equally interested in Amelia.

Later that week, Sophie skipped down the stairs, her rose-pink ball gown layered with silver netting caught in her hand. Keene stood near the door, dressed in a black evening clothes. His gaze raked over her and stopped on her legs. Her heart tripped harder in her chest. Would that he didn't affect her so.

After a second, he closed his eyes. "Lower your skirt, madam."

Sophie let the material fall and continued down the stairs in a sedate walk.

Keene looked past her to the stairs. "Shall we go?"

Amelia's gloved hand trailed lightly down the railing as she descended.

Sophie bit back a wave of consternation. How would Keene ever forget her boisterousness when confronted by Amelia's complete decorum at every turn?

"Do you know who else might be attending?" Amelia asked.