Page 22 of The Duke’s Cursed Virgin (Cursed Brides #3)

Chapter Twenty-One

“ T heo,” she whispered.

Afterward, Sophia could only hear the sound of their breathing. She sat on the couch, naked, while Theo sat on the other end. Her clothes were wrinkled and tangled around her waist.

It was confusing how they could go from playful to serious conversation and then to sex and apparent indifference in just mere moments. Even as her body still thrummed from her recent release, she wanted more connection with him not too long after wanting to escape.

She watched his muscular back ripple with tension. His elbows were on his thighs, and his face was in his hands. Even though Sophia wanted to drag her nose along his bare back to breathe in the scent of his skin, she contented herself with tracing a finger along his spine.

He flinched at the way she said his name. What was wrong with them? An hour ago, she wanted to leave and he wanted her to stay. Now, the roles were reversed so quickly. She hesitated but decided to press.

“Come close to me,” she said.

He turned to her, his jaw tense.“After you tried to leave earlier, you are playing sentimental?”

It was her turn to flinch. She blinked at him, quickly withdrawing her hand from his back as if she had been burned.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, not sure if she did anything wrong. “I was being foolish.”

“We knew what this would be all along, Sophia.”

He might not have said all the words, but they greatly implied that what they had was nothing more than the pursuit of pleasure together. Still, Sophia could not help but be defiant, studying his face for clues.

“It’s not just tonight, Theo. You always pull away afterward. It was why I was confused by all the conversations these past few nights. It’s strange, really. It’s also exhausting to keep on doing what you do.”

“What I do?” he asked gruffly.

“Keeping yourself at a distance. At least with me, it was the ton that shrank away. It was not my intention.”

“What do you know about it? About me?” he prodded, his eyes flashing with anger.

“I wouldn’t dream of assuming anything,” she replied as she slid off the couch and began dressing.

She could play along. He was right. This was nothing more than a pursuit of pleasure. She might not be a man, but she would not cling to him if he didn’t want her to.

And yet images of the times she’d caught him watching her made her wonder just how much he was depriving himself of the things he wanted. If he thought she would stop coming to his estate, he was wrong. However, she would learn how to protect herself from him.

She would not be the one to get hurt. She had experienced too much sorrow in this world to wish for more of it.

The next event was jarring to Sophia’s senses. From the secretive isolation of Theo’s house and the mild conversation in the Holtons’ residence, another ball was too loud and too colorful.

Golden chandeliers and floral perfumes from the young ladies assaulted her senses. She tried her best not to shrink away like a fairy faced with Cold Iron.

“Look alive!” Aunt Mary ordered, with a flick of her fan.

Sophia only sighed, while Anna watched her warily. She moved through the crowd, unaffected by people’s stares. At this point, nobody mattered anymore—nobody who was not Theo.

Still, she forged on with polite smiles and practiced curtseys for even the meanest guest in attendance. As was usual with these events, the drinks stand called to her, perhaps to help her drown her sorrows in champagne and sweet rolls.

“We should meet,” the deep, familiar voice that had been haunting her dreams declared somewhere to her right.

She did not have to turn to recognize the looming presence. She steeled herself against him, willing herself not to feel anything.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?” he asked, his voice still low but no less insistent.

“It would not be wise,” she reasoned, setting her glass down. “Perhaps we have been doing it wrong, and people would notice a black carriage going back and forth between the Holtons’ residence and yours late at night.”

Theo scoffed. He did not believe her, and she didn’t believe herself either.

“Are you punishing me for how I behaved? Because I can think of other punishments I’d gladly give you.”

“That would not be a punishment, Your Grace,” she retorted.

She moved to step past him. However, he was fast and angry, catching her by her wrist. His grip was firm, but she could tell he was still careful. What he was not being careful about was his interaction with her—in public.

“Enjoy your little game, sweetheart. But next time, it’ll be my turn to punish you, and you’ll love every second of it.”

Sophia gasped. She pulled her wrist free, but she didn’t want to look at him—not into his eyes. No matter how much she protested, he still believed that she would go back to him and take whatever punishment he would give.

At that moment, she wondered if he knew how right he was.

Sophia tried to forget Theo. She was thankful for Aunt Mary’s sharp tongue and Lady Holton’s constant melodrama. She realized she was feeling at home with them more than she could ever admit.

Listening to them, however, meant she was still in touch with gossip and Society.

“Did you hear about Lord Bertram and his wife? Oh, the scandal! She found out that Bertram has a second family living not too far from them! I can’t imagine the shame and heartbreak.”

“I’m also concerned that Lady Bertram didn’t notice her husband’s shenanigans sooner. What was she doing? Was she a contender for village idiot?” Aunt Mary looked positively disgusted.

“Perhaps he was just very discreet,” Sophia offered. “What length of time does it take for such things to get discovered, anyway?”

“She was an idiot,” Aunt Mary declared stubbornly. Then, she took a long sip of what Sophia believed to be a steaming cup of tea.

Sophia winced, but the old lady was too proud to show any reaction. Unless she was used to getting scalded.

“I am not stupid,” Aunt Mary continued, looking at Sophia with her eagle eyes. Narrowed and intelligent, sharp as ever. “Like some young ladies who believe they can slip in and out without their elders knowing.”

“What do you mean, Aunt Mary?” Sophia asked, blinking, even though her hands had turned cold and clammy.

“Simple. I’m old, but not a fool. Or perhaps my being old is the reason I’m not an idiot, not like Lady Holton,” Aunt Mary snapped.

“Lady Rossburn! What is that supposed to mean?” Lady Holton sounded shocked. It was to Sophia’s advantage that she was more focused on the insult Aunt Mary directed at her.

Aunt Mary gave Lady Holton a smirk. Then, she turned her attention back to Sophia. “Tread carefully, Sophia. The Wolf Duke is aptly named. He devours and disposes,” she warned.

Sophia tried to ignore her aunt’s words to no avail. They now lived in her mind, wreaking havoc every time she was alone.

Eventually, they lingered, even when she wasn’t.

Philip visited the Holton household that same week. Anna did not even disguise her delight. Sophia was envious of her open display of enthusiasm, and she could not make herself warn her friend again. It was she who had made the wrong moves, and not the younger woman.

As was consistent with his character, Lord Longford came unannounced. He charmed the butler into ushering him to the drawing room. He was all roguish grin and relaxed attitude.

“Good day, ladies. Always a pleasure,” he greeted. He even bowed with an exaggerated flourish of his right hand at the end.

Nobody expected anything less from Philip.

His eyes met Anna’s. She rolled her eyes at him but could not help but smile.

“What brings you here, My Lord?” Sophia asked, even though she had a strong suspicion as to why.

“There does not need to be a reason between dear friends,” was his gallant reply.

Aunt Mary was not convinced.

“You’re here to torment our dear Anna, are you not?” she asked with a loud, disapproving snort.

“My Lady, you wound me. That was never my intention. However, if she believes that I am tormenting her, I will quickly find ways to remedy that,” he replied, his hand on his heart.

Even Sophia could not help but giggle at his silliness.

“You can remedy my torment by leaving,” Anna deadpanned. But the twinkle in her eyes revealed that she might not want him to leave, after all.

Sophia was torn between happiness and envy.

“Why would I do that? Who, then, would keep everyone, especially you, entertained?” Philip asked with a grin.

“Do you not think I am perfectly capable?” Sophia asked.

She was mildly amused by the exchange between the two. Throughout his teasing, Philip’s eyes had softened. They were so focused on Anna, as if she’d disappear at any moment. Meanwhile, Anna’s face was red.

It was clear that Philip had an effect on her.

“How are you, My Lady?” Philip asked, turning to Sophia. “Still wreaking havoc on London Society?”

“The trouble I cause the ton is imaginary,” she retorted. “What about you, My Lord?”

Philip chuckled. Then, he leaned toward her ever so slightly. Anna narrowed her eyes at him. “Speaking of trouble, how is dear Wolvesley?”

“Why do you ask me? How should I know?” Sophia asked back, keeping her expression impassive.

“I’m merely curious.” Philip shrugged. His boyish mischief remained on his face, and it was difficult to be mad at him.

“You are never merely curious, My Lord,” she remarked, eyeing him with suspicion.

He smirked at her and sauntered closer to Anna before she could ask more questions.

Did Theo tell him anything? Did the two share all their secrets?

“I’ve got some news that will rid you all of boredom!” Lady Holton announced in a shrill voice.

Everyone else sighed but listened anyway.

“Someone heard that the Duke of Wolvesley has a new mistress,” she said breathlessly.

“Oh?” Aunt Mary sounded bored.

“Idle gossip,” Anna muttered, discreetly looking at Sophia, who tried her best to maintain her composure.

“That is nothing new,” Philip murmured, but his face had somehow darkened. “He likes widows.”

Sophia knew that about Theo, but she still felt a sting upon hearing it from his friend. She was an anomaly in the Duke’s life. Perhaps he was ready to return to what he considered normal.

Philip gently placed his hand on Anna’s elbow as he steered her away from the older women and to a bench not too far away.

“Oh,” Lady Holton said, seeing Lord Longford with her daughter a short distance away. “I forgot that he is friends with the Duke of Wolvesley.”

“As he said, there’s nothing new to your gossip,” Aunt Mary complained, fanning herself violently.

“It’s true. I have nothing against the man. He had been through so much.”

“Lady Holton.” Aunt Mary’s voice held a warning that Sophia could not understand.

“I’m perfectly serious, Lady Rossburn. I feel terrible for him. I wish that he’d find someone he could care for. They say that after his mother killed herself, he was never the same—not that he was happy with the kind of father he had. But losing a mother…”

Sophia struggled to hide her horror.