Craving (Regency Lovers 3) Read online

  So what had really happened ten years ago?

  Whatever it was, Magnus knew with certainty Sophia was not to blame.

  Although she seemed to have been the one to pay the price for it by being estranged both from society and her family.

  “Who was he?” Magnus now demanded to know.

  Sophia gave Magnus a searching glance but was unable to read any of his emotions from the cold aloofness of his expression or his hooded gray eyes. “It is old history, and his name is unimportant—”

  “Not to me,” he rasped.

  She swallowed. “I only told you my real name so that you would realize you are not in any way to blame for the letters that are currently being sent to me.”

  “Neither are you.”

  Sophia sighed. “The person sending them obviously does not agree.”

  Magnus’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “The person sending them has to be watching you to know your movements so closely.” His expression softened as Sophia felt her face go even paler. “You have suffered enough, Sophia, you were only a child ten years ago, not much older than Clarissa is now. Yet no one seems to have defended or cared for you through what must have been a traumatic experience.”

  “Robert—” She broke off, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from saying more. She really had not come here to discuss any of this in detail with Magnus, only to reassure him that he would hear no more on the matter of their brief friendship, or the letters, once she had left London.

  “I take it the Robert you are referring is the Earl of Royston?” Magnus prompted softly. “Why would he—?” His brow cleared. “The Huntleys and the Richardses are related by marriage.”

  She nodded. “My mother and Robert’s are sisters. We grew up together.” She might not intend to stay in London, but she would prefer that Magnus and Robert did not remain at odds after her departure because of a misconception on Magnus’s part. “He has always been like a brother to me rather than a cousin.”

  Magnus resented even that connection between Sophia and another man, especially one as handsome and recklessly charming as Robert Huntley. But he also felt grateful to Royston, as it seemed he was the only member of Sophia’s family to have stood by her during her traumatic experience and the years since.

  Magnus wished he could have known Sophia then, that he could have been the one to offer her his steadfast loyalty and support. It would perhaps have appeared strange from a man so recently widowed, but even so, Magnus knew he would not have hesitated to protect Sophia if he had known her. As he intended to give her his protection now, with or without her approval.

  Now that he had Sophia’s real name he would also very shortly have the name of the man who had not only raped her but ruined the past ten years of her life too.

  “You mentioned the consequences from the first letter?” he prompted.

  Sophia no longer met his gaze. “I am presuming this person intends to make public both the presence of Lady Sophia Richards in London and my…my recent friendship with you.”

  “That does sound logical, yes.”

  She gave a choked laugh. “I do not believe logic has anything to do with any of this.”

  Nor did Magnus. Whoever was doing this to Sophia, Magnus believed, was acting out of jealousy or a need for vengeance. Either of Magnus or Sophia.

  Magnus had every intention of knowing exactly who was doing this, and why, and ensuring they were the one to suffer any consequences.

  “If you will excuse me for a few moments?” Magnus did not wait for Sophia’s reply before striding from the room.

  Sophia stared after him, completely at a loss as to why he had needed to leave now, before they had even finished their conversation. Unless he could no longer bear to even be in the same room with her. Her mother certainly had that same difficulty during the scandal ten years ago.

  Sophia closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling as the memories of that time could no longer be kept at bay.

  The clamor in the room as she returned to consciousness in the Bancroft’s library.

  Her bruised and battered body and the soreness between her thighs.

  The man’s heavy and fully clothed body half lying across hers.

  The mortification of having her father and Robert drag that man off her to reveal her gown was ripped from neck to thigh, her body exposed to all the other gentlemen gathered in the room.

  Her protests and the memories that had bombarded her as she lay there unable to move or cover herself or the blood between her thighs.

  She remember attending the Bancrofts’ ball with her mother and father that night, and meeting up with Robert and his friend, the Earl of Harrogate, whom she had met several times previously. Of dancing with both of them.

  How she had felt slightly dizzy from the heat after the dancing stopped for refreshment, and excused herself to go to the Bancrofts’ library until she felt cooler.

  After that, the memories became a little confused.

  Sophia could recall sitting on the chaise when the room seemed to swirl about her. Her lids feeling so heavy she must have fallen asleep. A sleep she did not feel able to rouse herself from even when she felt and heard her gown being ripped apart.

  Then the hands on her body, touching, pinching, bruising, and the sharp pain between her thighs as something intruded inside her. The even worse pain as something bigger and longer was thrust into her. The satisfied sounds above her as that painful intrusion was thrust inside her repeatedly until the body above hers gave a final grunt and dropped heavily on top of her and her insides were flooded with moist heat.

  Sophia believed she must have lapsed into unconsciousness after that because she remembered no more until her father and Robert hauled away the body on top of hers and the full extent of what had happened to her was revealed to all and everyone crowded into the room.

  If anything, the weeks that followed were even worse.

  Her father’s anger at Zachary Noble’s continued denials of having raped her.

  Robert’s fury resulting in public fisticuffs with his friend.

  Her mother’s shock that this should have happened to her daughter at all.

  The gossip and sideways glances of the household servants.

  Then the way conversations began to stop the moment the pale Sophia entered a room.

  Having her father, and then her mother, question her as to whether or not she was absolutely sure she had not encouraged Zachary Noble’s advances.

  The doubts cast upon Lord Zachary Noble being her attacker at all when a doctor’s report revealed the marquis had also received treatment that night for a blow to the back of his head.

  Then her mother’s distress as she related the rumors that were now circulating London that there had been no attack, and that Sophia was lying out of a desire to protect herself and her real lover from exposure.

  Followed by her parents’ decision to send her to their country estate, they said to give her respite from those rumors.

  Sophia, having overheard a conversation between the duke and duchess, had known better. Any future marriage prospects were now totally ruined, as Sophia was ruined, and they were sending her to the country indefinitely.

  The heartbreak of knowing her parents no longer believed her, along with the thought of that long sojourn in Gloucestershire, possibly for the rest of her life, had been enough for Sophia to decide she had to escape her fate. She had packed a bag, along with what little money and jewelry she had and booked a seat on the first public carriage leaving London.

  That carriage ride had taken her to Portsmouth and becoming a teacher in Miss Marchment’s School for Young Ladies.

  “Are you well, Sophia?”

  She returned to the present as she saw Magnus had returned to the sitting room. “I am,” she assured, knowing it did no good to dwell on those memories. That it only caused her pain and did nothing to change the outcome.

  Magnus did not look convinced by her answer but seemed to read something in her expression that persuaded him not to pursue the matter. For now. “I have just instructed Simms to take your luggage up to your bedchamber. Your carriage is also being brought round to the stables at the back of the house, and your driver offered accommodation with the other grooms.”

  Sophia blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You are staying here with me, Sophia, as we intended you should.” Magnus did not even attempt to sound less than arrogant, knowing only a strong will would suffice with a woman as determined as Sophia could be. “And when you are ready to do so, if you are ever ready, we will talk of this matter further.”

  “But—”

  “Nothing you have told me today changes my wish to have you stay here,” he stated firmly.

  “How can it not?” Sophia reasoned impatiently. “Ten years ago, I was front and center of a scandal that rocked Society on its smug and self-satisfied heels.”

  He shrugged. “And now you are to be an honored guest in the home of the Duke of Weston.”

  “You risk bringing scandal upon yourself and Clarissa if I do that.”

  “I do not give a fuck about any scandal that might ensue,” he bit out fiercely.

  “But—”

  Magnus kissed her into silence.

  Not in the gentle and then seductive manner of last night, but with the same arrogant determination as he had just spoken. He took possession of Sophia’s lips, claiming her mouth with the thrust of his tongue. His arms were wrapped about her slender body as he held her tightly against him.

  For however long she would allow it, Sophia was now his.

  And Magnus intended to protect her whether she required it or not.

  Chapter 9

  Sophia had no idea how, when she had fully intended leaving London today, she now found herself unpacked and settled into a guest bedchamber at Weston House and arranging her hair in readiness for going downstairs to have dinner with her host and his daughter.

  Although she did not have to look too far to know the reason why she was.

  Magnus.

  He had kissed her earlier until she was too boneless and breathless to object any further to his decision she was to stay here with him.

  Did she want to object?

  Truly?

  No, Sophia acknowledged with a rueful smile at herself in the cheval mirror in the bedchamber. What she truly wanted was more of Magnus’s kisses. More of that hard body pressing against her own. More of his hands and lips caressing her until she exploded into another of those blissful climaxes.

  But she had meant to leave London earlier, to spare Magnus any further embarrassment by her presence and his association with her. Magnus was having none of it. Which was when Sophia learned that when Magnus set his mind on something, it was impossible to shake him from it.

  In this case, he had decided she would stay in London, so stay she would.

  Sophia gave a soft chuff of laughter. The two of them really were that irresistible force and immovable object. Although in this case it seemed the irresistible force had succeeded in battering down any resistance by the immovable object.

  She now watched herself in the mirror as she lifted her hand and placed her fingertips lightly against slightly reddened and puffy lips from where Magnus had kissed her so deeply and thoroughly earlier.

  After which she had been shown to her own bedchamber. But she had a feeling that was only for Clarissa’s benefit, and that Magnus had every intention of the two of them sharing his bed tonight.

  Would she agree to that?

  Could she agree to that?

  Admittedly, Magnus drew out a response in her that was wholly unprecedented. But did that mean she could allow the two of them to become lovers?

  Magnus’s breath caught in his throat the moment Sophia joined him and Clarissa in the drawing room before dinner. She looked exquisite with her golden hair swept up and loosely secured at her crown and wearing a gown of red silk that left her shoulders and most of her arms bare. The style revealed the creamy swell of the tops of Sophia’s breasts above the low neckline.

  She was also, he realized incredulously a few seconds later, slightly shy in his company as she made a polite curtsey to his greeting bow but refused to meet his probing gaze.

  Leading Magnus to wonder, as the three of them went through to the dining room, Sophia on one arm and Clarissa on the other, what sort of life Sophia had lived these past ten years.

  He had sent a message to Henderson earlier, requesting the other man look more deeply into what had happened ten years ago. Magnus fully intended for Sophia to tell him that herself one day, but in the meantime, he needed to know the names of any and all who could want to harm Sophia by sending her those insulting and hurtful letters. The man who had raped her ten years ago seemed a very likely candidate to Magnus.

  But at least those letters, if they continued to be sent now that Sophia was staying at Weston House, would come here in future.

  In the meantime, Magnus did not intend to miss or ruin a single moment he spent in Sophia’s company by mentioning the subject to her again until or if she was ready to share it with him.

  It was enough for now that she was here, with him.

  “This is so nice, Papa.” Clarissa warmly echoed his sentiment, although possibly not for the same reason. “I do not remember the last time we had a guest for dinner.”

  “I barely manage to tolerate members of Society at the few social functions I am forced to attend,” he drawled. “I certainly do not intend to invite any them into our home so they can ruin a perfectly good meal.”

  Clarissa giggled. “I am sure Miss Marchment is far more interesting than any of them anyway.”

  Magnus studied Sophia from beneath heavy lids, appreciating the becoming blush to her cheeks. “I believe so too,” he agreed huskily.

  Sophia knew herself to be blushing like one of her own young pupils. Possibly because this evening, she felt as gauche and inexperienced as them.

  Being first a teacher and then headmistress, Sophia had necessarily assumed an authoritative air. One that completely deserted her the moment she was in Magnus’s company, and he looked at her with unhidden desire shining in his eyes.

  She had told him the truth earlier, and as she had expected, that knowledge had allowed Magnus to recall the events of ten years ago. Surprisingly, it was a knowledge which did not seem to have lessened his desire for her in the slightest. But perhaps that would change once he knew all the circumstances, which he would no doubt soon learn from the man he had originally instructed to investigate her.

  For now, Sophia could bask in the knowledge that Magnus still desired and wanted her.

  Inwardly, she could also acknowledge that desire and want made her feel as young and naive as the seventeen-year-old girl she had been prior to the night her life changed forever.

  Luckily, the conversation yesterday evening, when Susan Hampton had insulted Sophia so thoroughly by referring to her as “a cat in heat,” seemed to have passed completely over Clarissa’s head. The young girl’s conversation this evening was guileless and rich with the pleasure she felt at having Sophia staying with them.

  “You do realize,” Sophia murmured ruefully once Clarissa had gone to bed and Sophia and Magnus were once again alone in the dining room and sitting at the table enjoying a glass of brandy together, “that by inviting me to stay here, Clarissa believes attending my school to now be a foregone conclusion?” The young girl had talked of little else during dinner.

  “That is because, with your agreement, it is,” Magnus queried.

  Her eyes widened, and then she frowned. “Clarissa is a delightful girl but… Are you sure you wish her to be so closely associated with a woman once accused of being a liar and hysteric?”

  All humor left his face. “I prefer to make my own judgments as to a person’s character, and I have found you to be neither of those things.”

  Sophia breathed deeply through her nose. “That does not mean I was not ten years ago.”

  Magnus’s gaze raked over her from her satin-slippered feet to the gold of her hair. “You were not a liar or hysteric then either.”

  Sophia gave a pained frown. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I know you.”

  He spoke with such certainty… “Do you?”

  “Yes.” Magnus rose to his feet to take the brandy glass from Sophia’s hand before placing it down on the dining table with his own. He then took both her hands into his much larger ones and pulled her to her feet. “Sophia, I have made no secret of my desire for you,” he murmured with a self-derisive curve of his lips. “But if, because of the past, it is not something you want me to pursue, then you only have to say so, and I will never mention the subject again. The two of us can still remain friends.”

  “Are we friends now?”

  “I would hope so.”

  Her frown turned to puzzlement. “And you would be happy to settle for that?”

  “God, no,” Magnus grated with feeling. “I will suffer the torments of hell trying to resist making love to you, but that does not mean I will not respect your feelings on the matter.”

  Sophia gazed up at him searchingly, knowing with absolute certainty that Magnus spoke the truth.

  She had never met a man like him before. So honorable and true. So passionate and open with his feelings. At least to her; from Robert’s comment about the man, she did not believe that was at all the case with others. Nor did she know of any other gentleman who would be willing to control those feelings if she said the word no.

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I am agreeable. But you should know,” she added determinedly as Magnus would have taken her in his arms, “that I am not…that I have not…” Sophia met his gaze as she forced herself to continue. “You asked me yesterday if I am a virgin, and apart from—from what happened to me ten years ago, the answer to that question is yes.”

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