Badcock by Debra Glass Page A

pleased without a care for the consequences. Lady Huntingdon was a woman I felt could take care of herself. If I hadn’t been so self-absorbed I would have quickly seen that you weren’t her.”
    “Are…are you saying what happened between us was a mistake?” Sophia asked, her voice tremulous.
    He placed her hand back in her own lap. “I am trying, once again, to apologize.”
    “No, Jack,” Sophia said. Panic surged. Something monumentally awful was about to happen. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. And in a futile attempt to stop it, to stop him from saying the words, she said, “I love you.”
    He stared.
    Sophia’s breasts heaved with quick breaths. “I do. I love you.”
    His eyes squeezed shut for a moment and then he opened them. “Sophia, it was a mistake. You were a mistake. Had I known, I would never have taken you that day.”
    Hot tears stung her eyes. “Jack—”
    He gained his feet. “It was a mistake.” And with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the thick garden.
    Sophia swatted at the tears that spilled from her eyes. What had she done? What had she admitted? Oh, dear God, why had she made such a grievous error? What could she have possibly gained from it?
    Looking up at the sky, she blinked, trying to dry her tears. It would not do for Lady Huntingdon or the other ladies to see she’d been crying.
    Sophia breathed as deeply as she could given her tight stays. Jack had made his intentions abundantly clear. She’d acted foolishly. She’d allowed herself to fall for a man she could never have—a man who would take her as his mistress but not his wife.
    A man who’d called her a mistake .
    “Sophia!” she heard Miss Markham’s voice. “Sophia, we are preparing to leave!”
    Sophia stood and smoothed down her skirts. Inhaling, she tamped down the heartache and tears. It would do her good to get away from this place and from Jack Badcock—forever.
    * * * * *
    From his study window, Jack watched Lady Huntingdon’s coach pull away. When he’d seen Sophia stepping out of it just two hours earlier, his spirits had soared. Although he’d known at once Lady Huntingdon had brought her here to torment her, he’d hoped—just for a moment—that Sophia had come to accept his offer.
    Why was she so stubborn? Why couldn’t see what sort of life he could offer her? Once he’d produced heirs with Lady Hilda, he would be free to do as he pleased with whomever he pleased. There was no shame in having a lover if one kept it discreetly behind closed doors.
    I love you.
    Love.
    What a foolish notion! How could she possibly think she loved him? What had given her that idea?
    Only a silly female would confuse passion with something else. He shook his head as darker thoughts intruded.
    That’s why he’d had to say such hateful things to her. Why he’d been forced to tell her that what happened between them had been a mistake.
    The look in her eyes had nearly crushed him and if she’d shed the tear that lingered in her lash line, he would have gathered her into his arms and made love to her right there in the day lit garden.
    Life was about responsibility. His fist throbbed and he realized he’d been clenching it. Flexing his fingers, he shook his head. Responsibility. His father’s death had taught him that.
    Jack watched the coach disappear around a bend of tall shrubs. Before his father’s death, he’d lived a carefree existence. Feeling blissfully immortal, he hadn’t considered his future. All that had ended when he became the earl, when he realized what a vast responsibility he had to the title he’d inherited.
    It was then he’d put aside his philandering ways. He’d known encouraging Lady Huntingdon had been a mistake but it had been a year and he’d been lonely for female companionship. He’d never dreamed he would make a far greater mistake in riding off with the wrong woman.
    He rolled his eyes when he thought of how foolishly he’d acted.
    Now