The Whippoorwill Trilogy - Sharon Sala Page 0,14

of that loose woman over at the White Dove. She didn’t want for the attentions of a man. Just because this one was smaller than most, didn’t have to mean he was worth less in the sack. As she passed him the potatoes for the third time that night, she reminded herself that she didn’t want just any man. She wanted someone who adored her in every way—like her secret admirer.

But as the evening progressed, Sophie found herself looking for Alfonso’s admirable qualities, when before all she’d done was look for his faults. Granted he was a little skinny, but a good woman’s cooking could take care of that. And yes, he was a bit on the short side, but height wasn’t everything. By the time they’d gotten around to dessert, Sophie had convinced herself that it was wits rather than bulk that made a man. Still, if only-

“Ah, dear lady… that was a very fine meal,” Alfonso said, and leaned back in his chair, patting his belly with both hands.

When he reached beneath the table, Sophie inhaled sharply then began to fan her napkin against her face. Her Nardin had been in the habit of rearranging his own masculinity from time to time when the situation was needed. Sophie was convinced that Alfonso had unwittingly just done the same, and she was certain that the sins of her thoughts were emblazoned upon her face for all to see.

Harlot. Strumpet. Loose woman. Her father had called her all three.

Nardin Hollis had called her his wife.

She had a sudden and terrible urge to regain that last title—even if it was with another man—even if he was a little skinny and had bulging green eyes like the lizards of Lizard Flats.

“Would you care for more?” she asked, and tried not to stare at the edge of the table and what lay beyond and below.

Alfonso had been watching her all night. He was a skilled business man, but he knew little about the ways of a proper woman. However, he hadn’t reached the heights of his successes by hesitation. He knew if ever there was going to be a time to make his pitch, it had come. He leaned forward and slipped his hand over hers.

“Ah, dear lady of my heart, I want more—much more. But I’m afraid it has nothing to do with food.”

Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. Dear lady of my heart? Had he just said that or did I imagine it?

Sweat began to run out of her hair and down the back of her neck as she stared down at his hand. She fluttered her napkin a little faster against her breasts, wondering if she had indeed just spent the evening with her secret admirer? If so, then there was much, much more to this man than she had believed.

“Oh my! Why Alfonso! I am speechless.”

Alfonso feared a rejection was coming, and because he did, he began to talk faster.

“Dear, dear Sophie, I know this may be sudden, but I can not wait any longer to tell you what’s on my heart.”

“Uh… Alfonso, I—”

“No, wait, dear lady,” he said quickly. “Please hear me out.”

Sophie gasped again. Dear lady? He said it again. Oh my word! I believe that it’s true! This sweet little man is the one who’s stolen my heart.

“Alfonso! Oh Alfonso!” Sophie gasped, and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face against his shirt somewhere between his belly button and his chest.

Alfonso was stunned. He didn’t know what had precipitated the gesture, but he wasn’t going to refuse it. He laid his hand on the top of her head then cupped her cheek, tilting her chin until they were staring into each other’s face.

“Sophie, dear, I am overwhelmed by your show of feelings, and since they echo mine, I beg you to please hear me out.”

Sophie’s heart was pounding. Say it. For God’s sake just say it!

Alfonso knew that timing was of the utmost. He dropped to one knee and clasped her hands.

“Dear Sophie, I have long admired you, and feel that a proper time has passed in which you have honored your late husband’s name. But you must realize that living does go on. I can’t believe that your husband would have wanted you to do without the security and honor that comes with being properly wed.” Then he took a deep, dramatic breath and leaned closer. “Sophie Hollis, will you marry me?”

She clutched at his hand as joy mingled with relief. “Oh Alfonso, I