Most Improper Miss Sophie Valentine by Jayne Fresina Page B

face.
    Lazarus stared, thinking how easily he could break apart those thin wooden panels with his shoulder and his bare hands.
    The damned woman was rude, churlish, and ungrateful. For such a small, delicate-looking kitten, she had quite a bite and a set of sharp claws. And when her temper was up, she was more beautiful and beguiling than she had any wretched right to be. He’d better walk away now and save that innocent schoolhouse door from taking the brunt of his frustration.
    Then he heard a stifled burst of laughter through the wood panels. He’d never been so confused by a woman in his life. Nor so aroused.

Chapter 11
    All Sophie’s attempts to ignore the stranger’s presence at the end of the lane soon proved impossible. Daily, the fellow’s curious antics were brought to her attention, and rarely could a handful of hours pass without mention of the name Lazarus Kane.
    He was witnessed playing cricket with Mrs. Finchly’s sons, inspiring them, no doubt, to even greater depths of wickedness. He was apparently skilled with his hands, and he built a luxurious new birdcage for Mrs. Cawley’s parrot and mended the cowshed roof for Dairyman Osborne. According to Henry, there could be only devious motives behind so much altruism. No good would come of it.
    Villagers passing the repaired gate at Souls Dryft saw the place much improved, all by Kane’s own hands and in such a short amount of time. The new resident must have wondered at the increasing number of ladies, young and old, who passed his gate each day while he worked in the yard without his shirt. At first, it was only one or two ladies scuttling by, averting their eyes, but very soon it grew to small flocks of four or five, who often passed more than twice in a single morning, and seldom a hurried step amongst them.
    Henry secured promises from several folk not to attend the party at Souls Dryft. But as time passed, a strange thing happened. People began to form their own opinions without conferring first with Henry. One by one, they forgot their vows not to attend.
    Even Lavinia weakened. Unfortunately for Henry, he made the mistake of purchasing his wife a new lace shawl that week. Now she complained of having no cause to wear that lace shawl, especially if he meant to stop her from attending the party and keep her trapped at home within the “moldy walls” of that fortress. She nagged at him for four-and-twenty hours, until he could take no more and told her she must do as she wished with her lace shawl—even strangle herself with it—but he would not accompany her to the party. In reply, she declared she would gladly go with Mr. and Mrs. Bentley.
    â€œWhat can you mean?” he exclaimed. “My sister Maria will not go. I’m sure of it. She knows my opinion on the matter.”
    Lavinia replied smugly, “But as they are representatives of the church, she told me yesterday it’s only proper they welcome the stranger to Sydney Dovedale.”
    Now Henry had no choice. “Unfortunately, thanks to my sister’s betrayal, I must go and keep an eye on things,” he stated. “If I stay away, the villain might think he gained a victory.”
    ***
    Once they were gone, Sophie settled in with a book. All was peaceful until Finn sat bolt upright in her chair, exclaiming, “I’m betaken with a desire to dance.”
    Sophie looked up warily over the top edge of her page.
    â€œWe should go to the party,” her aunt added emphatically, already half out of her chair.
    â€œI think we’d much better stay here.”
    â€œNo, no, Sophie. We’ll go to the party and dance.” The lady began fussing over her dress, clearly afraid it was too plain and worn. “And I’ve nothing for my hair.” She touched her lace cap with nervous fingers. “Lord! ’Tis so long since I attended a dance. Mayhap I’ve forgot the steps.”
    â€œPlease sit down, Aunt. You