She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can, Nicholas, not with all these guests here. It wouldn’t look very good if I just disappeared tomorrow afternoon.’
‘But they aren’t your guests,’ he persisted. ‘And I’m sure your stepmother wouldn’t mind. Besides, these people aren’t even in your age group.’
Neither was he, if the truth were known. He might only be twenty-three, but he acted much older. ‘I don’t think I should,’ she refused. ‘Not when we have guests.’
And one guest in particular. It was a disquieting feeling seeing her stepmother’s head bent towards that dark one so often, and her feelings of unease increased as she saw the frown on her father’s face.
‘He’s a distinguished-looking chap, isn’t he?’ Nicholas remarked at her side, drawing her attention back to him.
‘Mm?’
‘Luke Vittorio,’ he explained. ‘He’s a very noticeable chap.’
He had obviously followed her line of vision and misunderstood her interest. ‘I suppose you could say that,’ she acknowledged ruefully.
‘He’s not what you expect of an artist, though, is he?’
Sophie gave an amused smile. ‘And what did you expect? The classical paint-stained smock, the paintbrush behind each ear?’
A dark hue coloured his cheeks. ‘Now you’re mocking me!’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Only a little,’ she gave him an apologetic smile. ‘But Mr Vittorio could hardly sit down to dinner in his working clothes. I’m sure he wears denims and tee-shirts when he paints.’ And looked just as distinguished in them as he did his other clothes. The man carried himself with arrogant elegance and would stand out in a crowd no matter what he wore.
‘You seemed to have a lot to say to him at dinner,’ observed Nicholas.
‘I’m surprised you noticed,’ she teased. ‘You seemed pretty well occupied with Eve Jeffers.’ She had seen the other girl trying to stifle a couple of yawns as Nicholas didn’t stop talking throughout the whole meal.
Again he blushed, although she thought he was secretly pleased about her noticing such a thing. He perhaps, mistakenly, thought her to be jealous.
‘Miss Jeffers was very interested in that sick cow I was telling you about.’
She shook her head. Poor Nicholas, he had no idea how boring he was. She looked up to find a pair of deep brown eyes watching her with mocking amusement, and glared resentfully at Luke Vittorio, guessing that Nicholas was the reason for his amusement. Her stepmother seemed to have momentarily left the man’s side, although he wasn’t short of company, surrounded as he was by a group of the female guests.
Sophie put her hand in the crook of Nicholas’ arm, leading him purposefully over to the chattering group. She edged her way in to stand at Luke Vittorio’s side, giving him a dazzling smile as he looked down at her questioningly.
‘Would you care for some more coffee?’ she asked him politely.
He seemed surprised by her friendly attitude after her earlier rudeness, his eyes narrowing. ‘No, thank you. Your stepmother has seen to my needs.’
Sophie’s mouth tightened. Not all of them she hadn’t! ’Nicholas has been longing to talk to you,’ she pulled the shy young man forward. ‘There wasn’t time before dinner.’
‘Oh, but—–’ Nicholas began to protest.
She patted his arm. ‘Now don’t be shy, Nicholas. I’m sure Mr Vittorio would love to hear about your farm. Tell him about that poor sick cow you had.’
Nicholas looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sure that can be of no interest—–’
‘Of course it would,’ she encouraged, surprised that for once he seemed to have realised someone had no interest in the welfare of his animals. ‘I’ll just go and make sure our other guests have everything they need. I won’t be long.’
‘But—–’
She gave a mischievous smile before walking away. She would teach Luke Vittorio to laugh at her. Let him listen to Nicholas and see how he fared!
He seemed to be faring very well ten minutes later when she looked over at him; the two men were apparently deep in conversation.
She turned away angrily, accepting a glass of champagne from the tray Martin was offering to the guests. She had quite expected Luke Vittorio to excuse himself as soon as it was polite to do so, but no, he seemed quite content to talk to Nicholas.
‘The stem of that glass is not my throat,’ he said from close behind her.
Sophie turned hurriedly to confront the artist, releasing the tight grip she had on the glass. ‘Do you have reason to think it was?’ she returned lightly.
‘Oh, yes,’ he gave a slight smile. ‘Do you not think it was rather cruel of you to leave your young friend like that?’
Her violet eyes glowed her malicious pleasure. ‘Didn’t you enjoy your little chat with him?’
‘I enjoyed it very much. I thought you cruel to Mr Sedgwick-Jones, not myself.’
‘To Nicholas?’ she frowned her puzzlement.
‘Yes. I am sure he came here this evening with the sole purpose of being with you. He did not expect to have to answer my quite extensive questioning about his livestock.’
She gave him a suspicious look. ‘Extensive questioning?’
He gave an inclination of his dark head. ‘I have a farm myself in America—or perhaps you would call it a ranch.’
‘You have a ranch?’ She was aware that she was repeating everything he said, but he had taken her aback. She had fully expected him to be as bored with Nicholas as everyone else seemed to be.
‘A few acres,’ he confirmed.
She felt sure that ’a few acres’ amounted to hundreds, possibly thousands. ‘But your home is in London,’ she pointed out.
‘I have no—home. I live where it suits me, and no doubt one day it will suit me to live in America. I have a manager there at the moment, but I visit from time to time.’
She could just see this man astride a horse, master of all he surveyed. The healthy tinge to his swarthy skin indicated that he did not spend all of his time working indoors and socialising now. No, there was power in his muscular physique, not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his tall agile body.
‘So you can understand,’ he continued, ’that I found your friend’s conversation very interesting. He is very knowledgeable on certain subjects.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed tightly.
The amusement in his dark eyes deepened. ‘You did not expect me to find him so,’ he mocked.
Sophie gave him a furious look. ‘Are you always so arrogant and—and emotionless?’ she snapped.
Luke’s mockery became more pronounced. ‘I do not think I am the one to ask about that. I have all the usual male appetites and emotions.’
‘I know that,’ she sneered. ‘And not all of your conquests are single wom …’ She broke off, looking with horror from him to her stepmother and back again. Oh no, she couldn’t believe it, not Rosemary and this man! But what other explanation could there be, why else did her father look so anxious and her stepmother so glowingly beautiful?
She had always known that her stepmother and father didn’t have the normal marriage of her friends’ parents, the two of them enjoyed a different