Lover Be Mine A Legendary Lovers Novel - By Nicole Jordan Page 0,30
asked, accepting a crumpet.
“I made friends with your cook and pilfered your aunt’s pantry.”
“You mean you cozened the cook? Is there any female you cannot charm?”
“You have been more difficult than most. Why is that, do you think?”
“Probably because I was raised to be wary of seductive libertines like you.”
He made a tsking sound and offered her the flask. “So tell me about yourself, Sophie Fortin.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“Everything. We have a lifetime of catching up to do.”
It seemed he truly did want to know her better, Sophie realized as they shared the crumpets and cider. He asked about her childhood in Surrey, her schooling, her late brother.… At the reminder of her loss, Sophie swallowed the ache in her throat. She still couldn’t think of Theo without hurting inside, but she told Lord Jack about the sudden fever that had claimed her brother and devastated her family.
As if recognizing her sadness, Lord Jack changed the subject to her impending engagement.
“You have made your father’s ambitions for you very clear. What does your mother think?”
“She has the same hopes for me. Mama is a gentle soul but pragmatic. She believes that daughters ought to marry as their parents bid.”
“I still wonder at their choice for you,” he said, lying back on the blanket and lacing his hands behind his head. “You have little in common with Dunmore.”
“Why do you say so?”
“He lives to ride to hounds, for one thing.”
Sophie winced. “I confess I am not fond of foxhunting. I would feel too much sympathy for the poor fox. My parents never kept saddle horses either, so I don’t ride particularly well.”
“In that respect, Skye and Kate are better suited to Dunmore than you are. They were practically born in the saddle.”
“Well, fortunately horsemanship is not a prerequisite for marriage.”
“But you cannot claim to be a good match. We have already discussed his lack of passion. You know you are unlikely to find pleasure in your nuptial bed.”
“Marriage is not about pleasure,” Sophie countered.
“It should be.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Do you honestly believe that?”
“Yes. At least, I believe it shouldn’t be devoid of pleasure and solely about duty. But you are poorly matched in numerous other respects. I have watched you with Dunmore. You have to bite your tongue frequently, especially when he begins spouting inanities.”
The duke’s limited conversation was indeed frustrating sometimes, Sophie thought. “Perhaps, but he has a good heart.”
The faint scoffing sound Jack made held amusement. “He is like a puppy craving affection. And he couldn’t be more dull. If you wed him, you will be bored to tears within a fortnight. Come, admit it, there are times when you wish him to the devil. At the masquerade, for instance, after he nearly broke your toes.”
Sophie frowned as she glanced down at Lord Jack. “Yes, but I prefer to be diplomatic and polite. Too much honesty can be cruel.”
“And you are not cruel?”
“I hope not. Actually, I feel sorry for him. By all reports, he dearly loved his late wife. She died of childbed fever after three stillborn births, so he has no children or other close family to keep him company. Since he lost her, he has been all alone.”
“I’m beginning to realize your chief flaw, sweetheart. You are too tenderhearted.”
“I suppose so,” she said agreeably, refusing to take his bait.
“You must have had other suitors you prefer to him,” Lord Jack prodded. “Skye tells me you have had several proposals before this.”
“A few.” As a girl she’d been fond of a young gentleman in her neighborhood, but she had always known her attraction could go nowhere. “But I do have some things in common with the duke.”
“Such as?”
“We are both fond of reading novels and poetry. In fact, the duke has an excellent collection of first editions, including a volume of Shakespeare’s Sonnets and a signed copy of Lord Byron’s The Corsair. If I were to marry him, I could live vicariously through his books and pretend I am having wonderful adventures.”
“You should be having wonderful adventures yourself. If you were to marry me, I would make certain of it. For that matter, you could avail yourself of my Uncle Cornelius’s library, which I’ll wager is vastly superior to the duke’s, although much of his collection is written in Greek or Latin.”
She gave him an arch glance. “But I won’t be marrying you, Lord Jack, so there is no reason to joke about it.”
His mouth quirked. “I don’t consider matrimony a joking