The Sheik's Son(49)

“Well I’m only half English, so it can’t be that.”

Sophie smiled, “Only half English? And the other half?”

“Something mysterious and far away,” he said, teasing her.

“Mysterious and far away. German?” she guessed.

Sebastian laughed. “Farther.”

She pondered. “Hungarian. You’re a Hungarian count!” She smiled down at him.

“No, and farther.” He smiled back.

“Russia! You are the firstborn son of the czar!” she proclaimed.

“Brat!” He touched his finger to her chin and she giggled. But then his finger moved to caress her cheek and she turned her head from him.

“Not a czar,” she said in a serious tone and he moved his hand away from her, sitting up.

“Not a Czar,” he echoed. But I am the son of a great sheik, he wanted to tell her.

Leila heard the exchange and wondered why it was so important that he not tell people of their background. As he was the eldest male, she would not go against him. He must have his reasons. She excused herself and walked back to the house with Germaine. He watched the two women leave, as did Sophie. She closed her eyes tightly.

“Sophie.”

“Yes?”

“I meant what I said before in your room. That list that you wrote—you must not pursue it.”

“I may not educate myself?” she asked.

“No. Of course I didn’t mean that. I will even help in any way I can. I’m sure Madame Necker would be at your disposal as well.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I meant you cannot write about these things. At least not in a pamphlet.”

“I write things that I am passionate about. Things that I feel are important. At this time I only want to educate myself.”

“And should you become impassioned about these new subjects? What then?”

“I will write about them.”

He shook his head. “Sophie.”

“Would you like that I show you the pamphlet before I send it to print? Assuming I do write about it.”

Sophie had no intention of stopping any pamphlet she would write based on his opinions. She didn’t think there would be anything wrong with writing about such things. But if it satisfied him that he should see it beforehand, she would do that.

“I would. Thank you.”

“It seems that you want to play the husband role in some respects, but not take on the true burden of it.”

“I would most definitely play the husband role for you, Sophie.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “The husband’s role in the bedchamber, I’ve no doubt.”

He smiled. “I can give you such pleasure.”

“Yes. And if I become pregnant?” She had no intention of becoming his mistress and the conversation was indecent but she was drawn into it.

“I would provide for you both.” He almost shivered at her words.

“And when you tire of me?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” His eyes held hers captive before she broke the stare.

“You speak of a realm of fantasy like my beloved books. But all things do end.” She stood up, brushing herself off. “I, in the meantime, must begin to look for a husband as I am getting older. When a match is found that I agree with, I will accept.”

Sebastian stood as well. The sudden thought of her in another man’s arms, in another man’s bed, was completely unacceptable.

“I’ll walk you back,” he told her quietly.

She nodded.

Slowly they walked back to the chateau, each deep in their own thoughts. For the first time Sophie contemplated marriage. Sebastian had opened up a world of pleasure and passion and she wanted to experience it. As a well-bred woman, only marriage would suffice. She must speak to her father.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was in misery. She would have no trouble finding suitors. She was lovely and her father had money, so she would be married soon. But this thought pained him. He would never want her with someone else.

The chateau was quiet, though voices could be heard here and there as they entered the marble foyer.

“Good afternoon,” Sophie said as she left Sebastian and made her way upstairs to her room.

He watched her briefly before making his way into the salon to pour himself a drink. Whiskey was the drink of choice and he downed one glass and then another.

“A little bit early for that.” Madame Necker spoke from a corner chair, where she was reading.

“Perhaps. Would you care to join me?”

Madame Necker smiled. “No, thank you.”

He poured himself a third and took the chair opposite her. He was deep in thought but Madame Necker recognized all the symptoms.

“She’s very beautiful.”