The Infamous Rogue Part 32

She had used him for her own erotic desires and then discarded him for loftier ambitions.

He was such an a.s.s.

Sophia sensed the heat stemming from the pirate captain's torrid gaze. She fastened her eyes to the dishes on the table in a bid to ignore him, but she eventually surrendered to the treacherous impulse and eyed the black devil.

What was he looking so peeved about? She was the one trapped between his loyal kinfolk. She should be the one glowering at him.

She cut him a fierce stare before she returned to her meal, the fare cooling on her plate.

She had lost her appet.i.te even before she had entered the dining hal . The desire for food had deserted her the moment she had realized she would be sharing the castle with James.

She shuddered. She had shared the earl's country house with James, too. But the pirate lord was still a memory to her then: a memory of lost pa.s.sion. After their intimate encounter aboard the Bonny Meg, the memory of lost pa.s.sion was alive again, so vivid and palpable. So, too, was the hurt. It thrived in her breast and choked her breath at times.

"The season is over." Mirabelle glanced at her youngest brother. "I understand you attended a ball a few weeks ago. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Always," said Quincy.

Edmund snorted.

Mirabelle frowned. She glared at Edmund for making the indelicate sound at the supper table, but he was too engrossed with the succulent fare to regard his sister's baleful expression.

Sophia, on the other hand, listened and observed every detail that transpired between the family, wretchedly aware that she was the outsider intruding upon their informal gathering. She waited for James to elaborate upon the earl's ball, where she and the pirate lord had reunited after seven years, but the brigand remained tactfully silent. He didn't even mention the end of the season or the dreadful truth that she was still unattached to the earl. She should probably be grateful for his quiet manner. She was not, however. The man's calm tended to unnerve her more than his bl.u.s.tering temper. He was honest when he fulminated. There was something insidious about his temperate nature.

Slowly the d.u.c.h.ess returned her attention to Quincy. "And I trust you met many eligible ladies at the ball. Did you court any of them?"

"Many," the pup quipped, his mouth full of pheasant.

The woman's frown darkened. She whispered, "Don't be a pig."

Quincy looked at her askance. He then brandished the cutlery. "I'm not."

The d.u.c.h.ess blushed.

Sophia glanced at her own plate again and mustered the wil to partake in the fare before her hosts perceived something was amiss.

The table was quiet for a moment. But then Quincy said in a slapdash manner, "James's been having the most fun, though."

Sophia coughed.

Mirabelle twitched.

Quincy yelped. He reached under the table and ma.s.saged his leg. "Who keeps doing that?" He scowled. "I mean, James was at the ball and he went to a house party."

"He also attended the opera," William offered dryly.

"You've been busy, Captain Hawkins." The duke was blase. "Whenever did you find the time to pirate a pa.s.senger vessel, too?"

Sophia looked across the table at James, who was glowering at William and his brother-in-law. But both the duke and the lieutenant were unmoved by the captain's ominous glare. Perhaps they were wel acquainted with the black devil's hostility, for neither seemed perturbed by it.

"Yes, about the raid at sea." The d.u.c.h.ess stared at her husband. "You read that report in the paper, didn't you?"

"I did," he returned primly.

She huffed. "Well, why didn't you mention it to me?"

"I didn't want to upset you."

"But the account was about my brothers."

He smiled. "Exactly."

The table quickly erupted in protest, the Hawkins brothers incensed at the insinuation that they aggrieved their sister with their scandalous ways.

Sophia sighed and quietly moved the food across her plate with her fork, thinking about the first time she had dined with the brigands and her father.

Quincy grimaced as he stared at his plate. "What is that?"

"It's Stinking Toes," returned Sophia. "It's an island delicacy."

Edmund slurped the sweet pulp from the fruit without protest.

James glared at the fastidious pup. "Eat it, Quincy."

"But-"

"Sophia prepared it," from Wil iam. "Eat it, Quincy."

"Aye, but-"

Patrick Dawson picked up the pistol beside his plate and aimed it at Quincy's head.

"Eat it."

Sophia smiled at the warm memory. She had always enjoyed supper on the island with her father and the Hawkins brothers. Informal, even droll, at times, it had always been one of her favorite activities, for she had liked cooking for them and then sharing the meal with them. She missed the camaraderie, the familial rapport.

The table was still embroiled in a heated discussion. Sophia lifted her eyes and glanced at the pirate captain, who was watching her thoughtfully.

Her smile fell. She had let down her guard for a moment. After reflecting upon the past, she had relaxed about her present predicament. It was clear to her now that the duke and d.u.c.h.ess, the Hawkins brothers had no desire to torment her or even make her feel uncomfortable. The family was irreverent, even cheeky. It was in their nature. She had nothing to worry about...except for James.

She had to protect her heart from the ruthless devil, for he was still out to make her suffer, she was sure.

Chapter 19.

S ophia strolled along the pebbled walkway. It was a brisk morning. The sweltering heat of summer was slowly fading away. She wasn't accustomed to the cooling temperatures.

She was wearing a spencer. The black velvet material protected her bust from the chill in the air, but the breeze stil nipped at her nose.

Sophia explored the immaculate grounds. She searched for tranquillity in the manicured garden with its rows of trimmed hedges and late-blooming roses. The trilling birds offered sweet music as she perused the landscape, thinking about her encounter with the Hawkins brothers, the duke and d.u.c.h.ess the other night.

After a few uncomfortable moments had pa.s.sed, she had come to relax and enjoy the evening. The brothers had treated her wel . Quincy had flirted with her. The duke had been kind, as had the d.u.c.h.ess. If it wasn't for Black Hawk's company, she would have had a thoroughly gay time.

What's the matter, sweetheart? Aren't you hungry?...I know I am.

She shuddered. Throughout supper James had watched her, and whenever he had set his deep blue, hungry eyes on her, she had stil ed. Every time he had looked at her, he had roused her blood and attracted her senses.

He had made her hungry, too.

Sophia dismissed the black devil from her mind. She heard a voice, a soft humming.

She followed the faint sound to an ornate stone fountain in the center of the garden, where the d.u.c.h.ess was resting with an infant in her arms.

Mirabelle patted the babe, wrapped in a white blanket. The small creature was perched on her shoulder, sound asleep.

Sophia admired the quiet couple for a moment. The d.u.c.h.ess seemed so content, she thought. So at peace. She and Mirabelle shared a similar past, a common upbringing, and yet their present situations were so vastly singular.

Sophia didn't want to disturb the mother and child, and so she retreated; however, the d.u.c.h.ess had spied her loitering.

"Good morning, Sophia." She smiled. "We missed you at breakfast."

Sophia returned the greeting and approached the woman. She settled beside her on the fountain's edge and peeked at the tiny, slumbering features poking through the warm woolly wrapper. The babe was handsome, she thought.

"I'm just taking Henry out for some fresh air while the weather's still warm."

Warm? thought Sophia. So what was the weather like when it was cold?

"How is Lady Lucas?" wondered Mirabelle.

Sophia wove her fingers together. "She's doing well."

"Good." She looked at her askance. "And you?"

Sophia burrowed her booted toes into the pebbled walkway. "I'm fine."

"You seem distracted. Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine," she parried.

It was a centuries-old game: polite intrusion. The d.u.c.h.ess was fishing for answers to questions about Sophia's affair with her brother. It was obvious to them both they were thinking about the same thing, but neither was being forthright about it.

"I know you're still grieving over the loss of your friend-"

"She's not dead."

"What?" The d.u.c.h.ess pinched her brows. "But I thought...Lady Lucas mentioned in her letter you were in mourning."

"Yes, I suppose I am...I can't see her anymore."

"Why?"

"She's ruined."

"Oh, I see."

The d.u.c.h.ess fell quiet.

Sophia shifted, the stone fountain uncomfortable even with the layers of fabric under her posterior. "So you see, I am in mourning. She's dead."

"She's not dead."

Sophia shrugged. "It's the same thing." She moved her foot across the rough pebbles, swirling her toes. "The rules of etiquette are strict."

"I understand the rules of etiquette are strict."

Sophia glanced at her sidelong. "But...?"

"But I don't really like following the rules."

Sophia flicked her fingers across the lambent water behind her, the ripples shimmering.

There was a time when she had not cared for the rules, either. She had flouted them, in truth. But she had paid for her folly. At times she wanted to defy convention again-to see Imogen, for instance-but always the memory of noisy heckles surfaced to haunt her and keep her in line.

Mirabelle rocked the babe. "Is my brother treating you well?"

What were the odds she was inquiring about her brother Quincy? Slim, Sophia reckoned. But Sophia dreaded talking about the past. It exposed her, made her vulnerable.

Still, she decided to stop prevaricating. The d.u.c.h.ess was already privy to her former relationship with James. If the woman was going to make a fuss about it, she would have done so already.

"You know who I am, don't you, Belle? Who I was to your brother, I mean?"

"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "Quincy told me."

"Quincy?"

"He doesn't have a feather on his tongue." She sighed. "He says whatever's on his mind, I'm afraid."

So it wasn't James who had betrayed their past? Sophia should have considered one of the other brothers as the culprit. But James was such a ruthless devil, it was so easy to blame him for the treachery. And yet he had already lost the chess game. He had already vowed to keep their island affair a secret. Besides, he would never have talked about her- his mistress-with his beloved sister. Sophia should have known that.

The babe started to fuss. Mirabelle shushed him with a few whispered words. "James doesn't talk much-about anything. I'm his sister, and yet I know so little about him."

Sophia was at a similar disadvantage. She had lived with James for a year before their affair had ended. She had developed a pa.s.sionate attachment, an intimate bond with the man. She had come to know him. Or so she had thought. The pirate lord's true character was a mystery to her, as wel . But she suspected the d.u.c.h.ess still wanted to know more about the affair.