Behind the Courtesan - By Bronwyn Stuart Page 0,54

than bruised ribs had. “As long as the lady approves.” The words left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

The stiffness in her spine when Blakiston took her fingers in his almost made Blake feel better but the emptiness in his hands, in the circle of his arms, made him seek the ale cask and a very big cup. Leave it to Blakiston to ruin a perfectly good evening with his very presence.

“You know you could have given him one. No one here would have complained or borne witness.”

Blake turned to Matthew and raised his now full cup. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Anyway, Sophie can dance with whomever she pleases.”

“You and I both know he doesn’t please her in the least.”

“I don’t care either way.” As the lie left his lips, try as he might, he could not bring himself to look away from the couple they made. Her life in London depended on suitors like him, on the income and the trinkets they could provide.

Every time he began to see her as simply a woman, something or someone had to remind him that she was more than that.

What really bothered him was that he needed the reminder at all.

* * *

To enjoy oneself at a London ball or ton event meant gluing a smile to one’s lips and if one made it through the night of warm champagne and stale food without someone making a snide remark, then it was also deemed a success. Sophie had smiled so much on this one night that her face felt as though it might crack. The only time she had to force the action was in the arms of that disgusting toad, Blakiston. The sooner his attention was caught by some fleeting chit or more interesting gossip, the better!

As soon as her dance with him, where he squashed her toes not once, not twice but three times, was over, Sophie rushed back to the table where Blake and Matthew sat and squirmed her way in between the two large men. She suddenly felt the need to be protected. One look in Blakiston’s direction and the calculating way he watched her told all present that he had more than an interest in her dancing.

She reached forward, took Blake’s mug from his fingers and gulped the remaining contents.

“Thirsty?” he asked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

“Why does he pay so much attention to me?”

Blake and Matthew shot her identical knowing frowns.

“Apart from that,” she muttered. “I have done all I can short of outright asking him to leave and still he pursues.” She tapped the cup on the table and stared at Blake until he refilled it from a jug.

“Why don’t you say the words then? Even a man as thick as Charles would get the message if you made it clear.”

She looked at her brother and returned his frown before gulping more of the sweet ale. “I can’t be so rude to a duke, Matthew.”

“I would,” Blake said. “Did you want me to tell him to leave off?”

“I hardly think he would take well to that. No. I will be gone soon and the duke’s affections will be taken with something or someone else. I’m sure he has horseflesh or a young maid to salivate over.”

“I hear he’s selling the old duke’s horses in the next few days.”

“To whom?”

Blake and Matthew shrugged, but Sophie thought she detected a hint of uneasiness in the two. “Then why? Surely he doesn’t need the money?”

“Don’t know that either,” Matthew admitted. “We aren’t involved in the inner workings of the estate and anyone who is won’t speak of the business. They’re terrified they’ll lose their positions.”

“Perhaps it is about the money then? Not much else would have the staff as scared as they are. Especially not him.” Blake pointed to where the duke had missed his mouth with his cup and spilled the contents down the front of his jacket.

The men burst into laughter and once again, Sophie relaxed. Finally, even though the divide between them was wide, she began to feel as though she was home.

As the duke flicked ale from his coat, he cast them a foul look before disappearing into the rainy night. Piercing her bubble of contentment was the reminder that theirs were precarious positions and upsetting a duke wasn’t going to help anyone.

Chapter Fourteen

Sophie had never felt as small or delicate or fragile as she did tonight. Even in her life as Sophia, she couldn’t recall