An Offer From a Gentleman (Bridgertons, #3)

by Julia Quinn

“You might live here at Penwood Park, and you might share lessons with my daughters, but you are nothing but a bastard, and that is all you will ever be. Don’t you ever, ever make the mistake of thinking you are as good as the rest of us.”

“My husband,” the countess continued, “feels some sort of misguided duty to you. It’s admirable of him to see to his mistakes, but it is an insult to me to have you in my home—fed, clothed, and educated as if you were his real daughter.”

“I don’t want to see you,” she hissed. “You are never to speak to me, and you shall endeavor never to be in my company. Furthermore, you are not to speak to Rosamund and Posy except during lessons. They are the daughters of the house now, and should not have to associate with the likes of you. Do you have any questions?”

Araminta, had insisted that very first day that Sophie be removed from the house. The earl had refused. Araminta didn’t have to love Sophie, he’d said coolly. She didn’t even have to like her. But she had to put up with her. He had owned up to his responsibility to the girl for seven years, and he wasn’t going to stop now.

Rosamund and Posy took their cues from Araminta and treated Sophie with hostility and disdain, although Posy’s heart clearly wasn’t into torture and cruelty in the way Rosamund’s was.

And found himself facing what had to be the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen.

But there was something about her that held him mesmerized. It was her smile, the shape of her eyes, the way she held herself and looked about the ballroom as if she’d never seen a more glorious sight than the silly members of the ton all dressed up in ridiculous costumes.

Her beauty came from within. She shimmered. She glowed. She was utterly radiant, and Benedict suddenly realized that it was because she

looked so damned happy. Happy to be where she was, happy ...

This woman knew joy. And Benedict had to know her.

“I want—” His voice dropped to a whisper, and his eyes looked vaguely surprised, as if he couldn’t quite believe the truth of his own words. “I want your future. I want every little piece of you.”

Sophie gulped. “We’re alone?” He nodded. “Completely.” She edged toward the stairs. “I’d better find the servants’ quarters.” “Oh, no you won’t,” he growled, grabbing hold of her arm. “I won’t?” He shook his head. “You, dear girl, aren’t going anywhere.”

“I’m not going to summon you like a servant,” he growled. “But I am a—” “Not for me you’re not,” he said. The words emerged a little more harshly than was necessary, but he’d always detested men who preyed on helpless female servants.

“I like when you say my name,” he said. “I didn’t mean to,” she admitted. He touched a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” he admonished. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t you know that’s not what a man wishes to hear?” “I don’t have much experience with men,” she said. “Now that’s what a man wishes to hear.”

His finger floated across her cheek to her temple, and then from there traced her eyebrow, ruffling the soft hairs as it moved to the bridge of her nose. “So pretty,” he said softly, “like a storybook fairy. Sometimes I think you couldn’t possibly be real.”

“I think I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “You think?” “I think I have to kiss you,” he said, looking as if he couldn’t quite believe his own words. “It’s rather like breathing. One doesn’t have much choice in the matter.”

She wanted him to kiss her just as he had at the masquerade, the gentle caress giving way to a more passionate joining. And then she wanted him to kiss her some more, because this time the clock wasn’t going to strike midnight, and she wouldn’t have to flee.

He made her feel beautiful, precious, priceless. He treated her like a woman, not some serving wench, and until that very moment, she hadn’t realized just how much she missed being treated like a person.

“Be mine,” he said, his voice thick and urgent. “Be mine right now. Be mine forever. I’ll give you anything you want. All I want in return is you.”

“I can live with you hating me,” he said to the closed door. “I just can’t live without you.”

You will stay right here, and you will keep smiling. Because it breaks my heart to see any other expression on your face.”

He loved her. He didn’t know how it had happened, only that it was true. It wasn’t just that she was convenient. There had been lots of convenient women. Sophie was different. She made him laugh. She made him want to make her laugh. And when he was with her—Well, when he was with her he wanted her like hell, but during those few moments when his body managed to keep itself in check … He was content.

It was strange, to find a woman who could make him happy just with her mere presence. He didn’t even have to see her, or hear her voice, or even smell her scent. He just had to know that she was there. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

“They say that a smart person learns from her mistakes,” she interrupted, her voice forcefully ending his protest. “But a truly smart person learns from other people’s mistakes.”

Love. He loved Sophie. That was all that should have mattered.

He’d thought he’d loved the woman from the masquerade. He’d thought he’d wanted to marry her. But he understood now that that had been nothing but a dream, a fleeting fantasy of a woman he barely knew.

“But one of the things I love best,” he continued, “is the fact that you know yourself. You know who you are, and what you value. You have principles, Sophie, and you stick by them.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “That is so rare.”

“I love you,” she whispered. “I have always loved you. I think I loved you before I even knew you.”

“At the masquerade,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically shaky, “even before I saw you, I felt you. Anticipation. Magic. There was something in the air. And when I turned, and you were there, it was as if you’d been waiting for me, and I knew that you were the reason I’d stolen into the ball.”

“You are the reason I exist,” she said softly, “the very reason I was born.”

His heart had grown, and he’d thought it might burst. He loved her. Suddenly the world was a very simple place. He loved her, and that was all that mattered.