Patrick lay in a tangle of faintly musty sheets, only the tip of one ear showing in his mop of black curls. For a moment Sophie paused, curling her bare toes against the cool stone floor. Then she quietly pulled on the gown she’d worn yesterday and struggled to fasten the back without Simone’s help. She slipped on her pelisse and her half-boots and crept out of the room.As soon as she left, Patrick turned over and stared rather grimly at the cobwebby planks some twelve feet over his head. Something was happening that was beyond his personal experience. Seduce her no matter how expertly, his little wife had never succumbed. While he wasn’t quite the libertine she presumed, it was true that his previous lovers had invariably vowed eternal love by this point in the relationship.Patrick frowned. What an arrogant popinjay he was! He had simply assumed that Sophie would forget all about Braddon, the man she was supposed to marry. The worst of it was that he had never wanted all those protestations of love so freely given by other women, but now … things were different.Patrick groaned out loud.