Sebastian saw his friend staring behind him and turned. He grimaced and then beckoned to the young woman.
She wore a dress of deep purple and dark blue, which emphasized her hair and eyes. The square neckline was modest and she wore a delicate diamond necklace and diamond drop earrings.
“Hello, Sebastian.” She smiled at the two men behind him.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “Leila.”
He detested playing nursemaid and chaperone to his baby sister, but his father had entrusted her to him and he would fulfill his duty.
“Andrew, Etienne, this is my sister Leila.” He watched each man place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand and sighed. She was too beautiful to be let loose in Paris.
Etienne bent over Leila’s hand in awe of her. He had been so struck by her standing in the doorway that he had wanted to go to her. But he had waited, wanting to remain cool and calm.
When Sebastian had introduced them, Etienne had thought that she was yet another one of his friend’s mistresses. But no. It was even worse. She was his sister. Nothing could be worse. He could not approach her or do anything to be near her. Sebastian would kill him, and could he blame him? There was no future with the exotic beauty.
Sebastian watched his friends behave entirely appropriately with his sister, which was just as he expected.
“Can you keep an eye on Leila?” Sebastian whispered quietly to Etienne as Leila made a plate of food for herself.
Etienne groaned inwardly. Jesus. “Of course. If you wish.”
“Thank you. You know what these salons can be like sometimes,” Sebastian said.
Etienne eyed him. “Ummm. Yes. I think we both know.”
Bash nodded. “Then keep an eye on her for me.”
Etienne nodded in reply, but as he watched the luscious Leila saunter back to them he thought only one thing: trouble.
Chapter 7
Madame Necker raised her voice and was almost insulted. “You can’t be serious!”
The argument had become quite heated and at the heart of the argument was Sophie’s pamphlet. Madame Necker and Germaine were only too happy to champion it and Sophie was delighted. But several other gentlemen did not and were happy to argue their point.
“What more can a woman want than to be mistress of her own home and mother to her children?” Monsieur Gerard argued.
Several men around them murmured their approval and Madame Necker’s cheeks burned hotly under the candles of the chandelier.
“A woman may want more from life, Monsieur Gerard.” Sophie spoke quietly at first. She was new to the salon and many didn’t even know her name.
“You are so young, my dear. I’m sure your father will marry you off, and well, and then you will see,” the man replied.
Sebastian had come into the doorway and was listening to the conversation with interest. He crossed his arms over his chest nonchalantly.
“Thank you, monsieur. I’m sure my father would look after me very well, and does. However, my husband or lack of will be my choice. If I don’t wish to marry, then I won’t marry.” Her words were quiet but forceful.
Sebastian watched Sophie’s face in the candlelight and recalled the kiss in the rain. He licked his bottom lip, remembering her mark on him.
“Bah! What nonsense! Who is your father? I will speak to him,” said Gerard to the assembled people, amidst several snickers.
“He is in the other room and you are most certainly welcome to speak to him. But he will not be swayed, and more importantly, neither will I,” Sophie retorted.
“See? This is what happens when women have ideas beyond their sex. You seem to be quite a handful, my dear,” Monsieur Gerard said. “All sorts of nonsense will start spinning around in that lovely head of yours.”
“I thank you for the compliment, but lovely or not I will marry for love and someone of an equal—or not at all. And no one will force me otherwise.” Sophie tilted her head up.
Monsieur Gerard shook his head. “Quite the handful,” he muttered.
Sophie moved away from him and his cronies and went near the fire to warm her hands and calm her passionate nature. These men were no different than her grandmother in their thoughts and beliefs, but to have people publicly tell her that she would marry whomever her father deemed appropriate with no thought to her own feelings seemed absurd.
She felt it was an insult to assume women were merely chattel to be used for birthing children and no thoughts or feelings resided inside them.
“I understand there are great pleasures to be found in marriage,” Sebastian whispered.
Sophie whirled around to find Sebastian standing beside her. His intimate use of the word “pleasures” and his insinuation was best ignored. “Monsieur Fairfax is like a bad penny.”