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The Sheik's Son(19)

By:Nicola Italia


“Don’t run away, I’m not the one who bites.” Sophie heard a whisper in her ear from behind her.

She sighed at the intrusion and turned to Sebastian as he licked his sensuous bottom lip, where she had inflicted the damage.

“Perhaps if you could behave yourself as any gentleman would, you wouldn’t be bitten,” she explained.

What gentleman could resist the temptation of tasting those delicious lips, he wondered.

“I’ll try to work on my proper behavior, mademoiselle,” he replied in a serious tone.

Sophie turned back to the queue and tried to ignore him. “What you do is of no concern to me, monsieur.”

“Bash.”

“I’m sorry?” She turned to him, confused.

“I’m called Sebastian. Though my friends and intimates call me ‘Bash,’” he clarified.

“Then I will call you monsieur.”

Sebastian laughed as the line advanced. “I came to find you. I have a message for you from the duke.”

Sophie frowned and then realized he spoke the truth. “The secretary. You’re the secretary.”

“I am.”

“The message?” she asked impatiently.

He gave her the time and place of the duke’s residence and informed her that a carriage would arrive a half hour before dinner to transport her and her grandmother to the duke’s home in a few days’ time.

“Merci, monsieur.”

“You should be careful, mademoiselle,” Sebastian said seriously.

“Excuse me?”

“The duke’s reputation.”

Sophie almost laughed. “His reputation?”

“Yes, with women.”

Sophie laughed and her creamy throat was exposed. Sebastian wanted to run his fingers down its length and cover her mouth with his.

“You mean he kisses strange women in the park without asking?”

Sebastian shook his head at the girl’s sharp tongue. “Sophie—”

“Excuse me.” The line had reached the front. She received her cup and saucer filled with tea as requested, and returned to the table with Germaine.

***

Lizette Robidoux was very different from her dear friend Sophie. She wasn’t intellectual like Sophie, nor as beautiful. With her dark blonde hair and brown eyes she was pretty, but not very tall so she was prone to chubbiness and her fondness for sweets didn’t help.

But she was kind and giving and adored Sophie. Sophie in turn was very fond of Lizette and they had been friends since girlhood.

“Was the cricket game interesting?” Lizette asked.

Sophie pondered the question, wondering how much should she tell her. She knew Lizette wasn’t a gossip but if it got back to her grandmother, she would be forever locked inside the house. She could still feel Sebastian’s hand on her neck and his mouth covering hers. In line for tea he had called her by name. It was all very disconcerting.

“It was quite boring,” she said, deciding a little lie was best.

Lizette nodded. “I thought so. And the duke?”

“He asked me to dinner.”

“No!” Lizette’s brown eyes widened.

“Yes, Lizette. He did. And before you get all worked up, Grand-mère is coming with me.”

Lizette nodded. “Of course she would. Your grandmother is always proper. She follows the rules.”

Sophie agreed. “Yes, unfortunately she does.”

“What does that mean?” Lizette asked.

“Nothing. It’s just that change is in the air. I can feel it. And she would prefer nothing ever changes,” Sophie complained.

Lizette helped herself to another small iced cake. “Well, change is hard so she prefers to live in the past.”

“Yes, you are correct, of course.”

“Will you attend anymore of Madame Necker’s salons?” Lizette asked.

Though she did not read the most esteemed writers of the day, Lizette was aware of them through Sophie. Her father was a well-known and respected doctor. He was good friends with Sophie’s father, which was how the two women had met.

“I do hope so, Lizette. The people, the conversations are all so dizzying.”

“And your second pamphlet is out. I heard my father speaking of it,” she spoke quietly.

Only Lizette and Marie knew of Sophie’s writings and they were both sworn to secrecy. Sophie knew that Lizette would remain steadfast and never betray her.

“Really?” Sophie asked excitedly.

“Yes. But not in a good way, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t understand why women’s rights are so frightening for everyone to grasp. Why?” she asked heatedly as the door opened to admit Eugenie, clad in an orange silk gown.

Eugenie joined the two young women at the table. “Dear Lizette. How are you?” she asked, eyeing the simple white gown she wore.