An Ideal Husband? by Michelle Styles

to agree with me, Lord Bingfield. Never has done and I have no plans to start. Remember, I am redoubtable.’
    ‘I never believe anything I read in the press.’
    ‘You should believe that. I have spent years ensuring I do not have pointless flirtations.’
    ‘What a pity.’ He clasped his hand over hers. ‘I shall take comfort in the fact that you are far from indifferent to me. Your body must rememberwhat happened the last time I held you in my arms.’
    Sophie ground her teeth. ‘A gentleman would refrain from mentioning that kiss.’
    ‘It was utterly delightful.’ He gave an unrepentant smile. ‘That is better. Your cheeks have colour. Far better for giving the impression of being besotted.’
    Besotted indeed! The one thing this engagement was not going to become was a way for him to seduce her. She knew the boundaries. The kiss would not be repeated. She refused to slip slowly but inexorably along that path again towards an illicit room in a rundown inn.
    She cleared her throat. ‘The dance has begun.’
    He began to move and she discovered that he was an expert dancer. She had danced with some very good dancers before, but Richard moved differently. It was more like floating on a cloud or having her body move as one with his. It would be easy to forget everything and simply enjoy the sensation of being in his arms.
    ‘We need to come up with a story,’ she said and ignored how his hand had moved to fit her waist far more snugly. ‘Something to test Sir Vincent.’
    ‘I doubt that will be necessary.’
    ‘We need to prove that he is our mutual enemy.’
    ‘Proving is nothing. What we need to do is ensure that he will not continue with his scheme. And he needs to learn that he should not try that sort of behaviour with anyone else.’
    ‘I take it you have a plan.’
    ‘I promised to protect you.’ His hand moved around to her back. ‘Trust me to do so and not abandon you to the winds of fate. You are far from alone, Miss Ravel. Relax and enjoy the dance. Look me in the eyes as if you never want to look anywhere else.’
    ‘And if someone asks how we met? I can hardly tell them the truth.’
    He missed his step, but recovered. ‘I had not considered it. Have you been away from Newcastle recently?’
    ‘Carlisle,’ Sophie answered with a faint smile. ‘I trust you know where that is.’
    He cleared his throat. ‘I meant somewhere in the south.’
    ‘We went to Liverpool in late March as a new design of tea clipper was being launched and I wanted to see the hull. I know everyone says that steam will replace the sail, but there is something so glorious about the way the sails fill.’
    ‘I shall take your word for it. I had never consideredthe design of a hull before. All I want to know is that a ship will get me from one port to another, safely, if I am forced to take it.’
    ‘Much of my fortune comes from shipbuilding, Lord Bingfield.’ Sophie breathed easier. Speaking of shipbuilding kept her mind from the way he moved or the shape of his lips. Feigning being besotted was one thing, actually being so was another problem altogether. ‘I was brought up to have a keen interest. The board of directors may run the day-to-day business, but it is the lifeblood which brings all the good things in my life. It is important not to take such things for granted, but to understand and to be able to question.’
    His smile became genuine. ‘I knew you were more than a pretty face.’
    ‘Do you like ships?’ Sophie asked quickly.
    ‘I am invariably seasick. It doesn’t matter if it is a rowing boat or a tea clipper—once I am on the water, my stomach heaves. Always has done. I suspect it always will.’
    ‘You do get used to the sea in time. Lots of people get over it and are never troubled again. A long sea voyage would do the trick. It did with me when I was seven. We went to the West Indies and I was so sick to begin with, but then I recovered. My father told me even Admiral LordNelson was