To distract herself, Sophie asked Kate to play a game of draughts while they waited, but for once Kate, who adored the game, demurred. Silence fell on the parlour, punctuated by the spring rain specking against the windows.
Finally Kate burst out, “Oh, do tell her, Sophie. Before the men come in and mix our company.”
Mrs. Overtree looked up. “Mix our...? What are you talking about, Katherine? Tell me what?”
Kate looked at her for approval, and Sophie gave a little nod.
Kate turned to her mother, all suppressed glee and dimples ready to burst. “Mamma, Sophie is going to have a baby! Isn’t that wonderful news?”
Mrs. Overtree directed a raised-brow gaze toward Sophie. “Is she indeed?”
Again, Sophie nodded.
“Well then. We must ask Dr. Matthews to call.”
“Sophie expects the child in late autumn,” Kate added.
Mrs. Overtree’s brows rose even higher. “So soon?”
Sophie felt her cheeks heat but told herself to remain calm. Squirming and blushing and looking ashamed would only make things worse. She reminded herself that she was a married woman after all.
She forced herself to hold her mother-in-law’s gaze, but her disobedient cheeks heated all the more. She could think of nothing to say beyond, “We’ve known or at least suspected for some time.”
“Stephen knows?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“I am surprised he did not tell us. You should be seen by a doctor as soon as may be.”
“Doctor? Who needs a doctor?” Mr. Overtree asked as he stepped into the room, the colonel and Wesley following behind.
“My dear, Sophie is expecting a child,” Mrs. Overtree said. “I am sorry to raise the feminine subject, but as you’ve overheard...”
He waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind your proprieties, my dear. I’m to be a grandfather! That’s excellent news. Though I must say I feel altogether too young to be married to a grandmother.” He winked at Sophie.
“And what about me? I shall be a great-grandfather.” The colonel turned to Wesley. “Is that not good news, my boy?”
“I am all astonishment,” Wesley said flatly.
“You’re to be an uncle. What do you think of that?”
“I think it... extremely ironic.”
“What—that Stephen beat you to it? Your fault for dragging your feet and avoiding all attempts to lure you into matrimony.” The colonel smiled at Sophie. “When’s the great day to be?”
The estimate was repeated.
“Good heavens! Someone wasted no time!”
A moment of awkward silence passed in which Sophie imagined each of them was counting the months backward. She twisted her hands and looked at Wesley. He gazed back at her, brown eyes wide and beseeching.
“There, there, my dear.” The colonel patted her hand. “No need to be embarrassed. Not the first to put the cart before the horse. That’s the passionate family nature for you. Can’t blame the boy.”
Cheeks burning, she stole another glance at Wesley. He was looking heavenward as if for self-control, hands fisted at his sides.
Mrs. Overtree’s gaze flickered from him to Sophie, taking in his fists and her red face. Her eyes narrowed. Did she suspect Stephen was not the “boy” to blame?
Sophie forced a smile. Oh, how she wished Stephen was at her side.
