He had made it impossible for her to decline, but she was clearly reluctant to take his arm, perhaps even to touch him. He cursed inwardly. Was it any wonder that he disgusted her? He was, after all, the man who had offered a pittance for the favours of the most glorious woman in Vienna. And offered it, besides, as if he were bestowing an enormous honour upon her. He had insulted her, and, in return, she had humiliated him. Which of them was the worse?
They walked, in silence, through apparently endless corridors hung with paintings. Leo tried to converse with her about them, but she simply shook her head, or closed her eyes or gazed at her feet. After only a few minutes, she withdrew her hand from his arm so that they were walking side by side, but separated by a small, daunting distance. Her meaning was very plain. She wanted none of him. His insult had been too great.
‘I expect that your carriage will be waiting by now, madame.’ He was trying to sound as normal as he could, but she was still refusing to look at him. She gave a tiny nod and allowed him to escort her to the entrance, where a footman waited with her wrap and Leo’s hat and cane.
Leo took the wrap himself and placed it carefully round her shoulders. He could not prevent his fingers from touching her bare skin. To be honest, he did not want to try. It might be the last time he was given the chance to do so. But the response horrified him. Her whole body shuddered as if she found him repellent.
He closed his eyes on that clear rejection. She wanted him to leave her. Now. But his body would not comply. He had never before known desire to possess him like this, but here, now, he had no time to worry at the cause. Leaving her was something that he could not do.
She was betraying far too much of what she felt. He would be able to read her, which would make her vulnerable to him, but her responses were beyond her conscious control. It had never happened before. Never. But with Lord Leo Aikenhead she was unable to maintain the icy-calm demeanour she usually adopted with so-called gentlemen. Perhaps it was because Lord Leo was a true gentleman? He had certainly been more generous than Sophie deserved.
At the door to her carriage, she turned and offered him her hand. ‘Lord Leo, you have been more than kind to a poor drooping female. I shall take your advice and return to my lodgings to rest. Pray believe that I am in your debt.’
‘Madame Pietre, forgive my presumption, but you cannot drive home alone. What if you were to be subject to another swoon? Since neither your uncle nor your maid is here to escort you, I hope you will allow me to perform that humble duty.’ He was smiling down into her eyes as he spoke. And his gaze was full of concern, and kindness.
It would be the height of ill manners to refuse his offer. Manners were part of a lady, as much as breathing. And in her heart, Sophie remained a noble lady. In such circumstances, she found it impossible to be rude to the one man who had come to her aid. ‘You are too good, Lord Leo. Thank you.’
He handed her up, ensuring she was comfortably settled on the seat with a rug across her knees. Then he sprang up himself, gallantly taking the forward seat so that he did not crowd her. Many another man would have insisted on sitting beside her, so that their bodies touched whenever the carriage swayed.
He gave the coachman the office. The carriage started forward, very slowly.
Sophie looked across at him in surprise.
‘I took the liberty, madame, of instructing your coachman to drive slowly. I imagined that a faster pace would be uncomfortable for you. Do you object?’
Sophie responded with a tiny shake of her head. His concern was all for her comfort. And if it meant that she would remain in Lord Leo’s company for rather longer than otherwise, was that such a hardship? He was a most personable gentleman—even if he did want to make Sophie his mistress—and now that their respective positions were clear, he would probably be good company. Provided he did not touch her again.
She wriggled back into her seat and fussed with the rug, trying to think of some innocuous topic of conversation. But her mind kept repeating ‘Touch me, Leo. Touch me, again.’ Her body had turned traitor.
‘This is a splendid carriage, madame. The purple and gold are most elegant. I admit that, the first time I saw it, I rather assumed that it belonged to—’ He stopped suddenly. ‘That is to say,’ he continued, in almost the same nonchalant tone as before, ‘that I thought it belonged to a gentleman. I must say that it is much more suited to a lady.’
Ah, yes. Lord Leo had clearly assumed it belonged to the Baron von Beck, probably because their colours matched. The very idea made Sophie want to laugh. Laughing at the Baron would be one of the best ways of mastering her fear.
She looked across at Lord Leo. She could say nothing, for he had been careful not to name the Baron, lest the memory embarrass her. But perhaps Sophie’s ardent look could show him how much she appreciated his tact and discretion?
He must have seen something in her face, for he smiled, though a little tentatively. Then, with another demonstration of his impeccable manners, he began to talk about the sights of Vienna and the various entertainments he had attended.
Sophie responded as best she could. Unlike Lord Leo, she and Verdicchio had been in the city for little more than a week. As a mere singer, she was not normally invited to the grandest events, which were reserved for the visiting monarchs, their retainers, and the exalted foreigners who filled the city. Sophie and Verdicchio could go only to the larger events that the common people might attend, on purchase of tickets. The message was clear. Sophia Pietre was not to be counted amongst the notables of society.
It had been so for many years, but it still hurt.
They arrived at the door to her apartment long before she expected it. His conversation had been so soothing that she had lost track of time. The truth was that she had enjoyed it, once she had overcome her initial embarrassment at the violence of her physical reactions to him.
If only he had not made that horrid proposal. If only she had not rebuffed him so rudely!
‘Lord Leo, I must thank you again for your kindness. My coachman will take you back to the reception, of course. Or anywhere else you wish to go.’
‘Madame Pietre, it was recompense enough to have been able to enjoy your company for these few minutes. It has shown me what I have lost, as a result of my boorish approach to you earlier. I hope I may ask you to forget it.’
She knew she was blushing now. ‘If that is your wish, sir, I shall certainly do so. As I hope you will forget the terms of my reply.’
He said nothing, but the glow in his face suggested that he was more than ready to do so, and that some kind of peace had been restored between them.
Sophie waited. She assumed he would alight from the carriage and help her down.
He did not. He reached for her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. And he never took his eyes from hers all the while. The glow was even more intense. Burning.
Sophie knew she should snatch her hand away, but her body seemed to be frozen. She could not move a muscle. Their joining, even in such a very proper way, seemed special. And meant.
At length, Lord Leo gently returned her hand to her lap. Without a word, he sprang from the carriage and turned to help her down. He was attentive, but now no more than properly polite. The moment, the connection between them, had been that kiss through her glove, and the message exchanged when they looked at each other. That message was unmistakable.
He wanted her. And—heaven help her—she wanted him too.
Chapter Five
Leo took the precaution of alighting from the purple carriage two streets away from his lodgings. Jack might not know the owner of the opulent vehicle, but he would ask and ask again until he learned the truth. And then he would demand to know about