“No.” Mrs. Renard pushed wearily to her feet, stumbling with the evidently immense effort. Her husband cupped her elbow. “I will see to my daughter.”
“I would be happy to see you both to your rooms,” Andrew offered, showing no sign of his ever-burning frustration. The last thing he would do was leave Sophie alone with her mother.
The woman sniffed, but allowed herself to be led from the room. Andrew knew he ought to be ingratiating himself with Sophie’s mother, but his blood refused to cool. So instead, he offered his arm to Sophie and allowed Mrs. Renard to walk unescorted. It was the height of rudeness, and he did not care one whit.
He saw Sophie’s mother to her room first, where the woman appraised the both of them with narrowed eyes.
“Sophia, you will attend me in the morning. First thing.” Her words brooked no argument and were full of steel despite her wilting frame.
“Yes, Mother.”
Andrew’s nostrils flared.
“You need do no such thing,” he said as the door closed behind Mrs. Renard and they made their way back to the stairs. “You do not answer to her.”
Sophie was quiet, and Andrew’s frustration bled from him in a river of regret. She did not need another person berating her. He would not put himself anywhere near the level of her parents.
“I apologize,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “You do not answer to me either.”
She gave him a wan smile.
“You are exhausted. Might I escort you to your room?”
“Of course,” she murmured. “Thank you.”
The hall was shadowed, and only the sounds of their padding footsteps accompanied their short walk to the lower floor. Sophie kept her eyes down and her shoulders stiffly erect.
They were steps from her door when she suddenly gripped his coat sleeve, turning to face him rather than enter the room. There was a look of resigned certainty in her face, and he thought he knew what was coming.
“Loath as I am to admit it, my parents are right. This was foolhardy in the extreme, and I cannot believe how far beyond propriety we have traveled.”
“I know. I am so—”
She cut him off, her eyes flashing as her mask from before melted. “No. You ought not to be sorry; it was I who showed up on your doorstep begging you to solve my difficulties. It was for me that you made each concession—deigned to marry. And then you thought to give up your dreams for me?” She shook her head, a manic motion.
“Do not—”
Again, she cut him off. Everyone was doing that this eve, and Andrew ground his teeth. “And now your reputation might be ruined as surely as mine, and my father will use this as leverage to gain every last concession he can manage in the marriage settlement. And you heard my mother—everyone knows. Mrs. Haverwick must have told everyone it was you I married the moment she heard, and if even one person thinks to check the registry or—oh, I cannot do it, Andrew.” Her hands flew out, gesticulating her point. “I will not be the reason that your vision for your future has been shattered beyond repair. I will not allow you to continue to sacrifice in the faceof—”
Something inside of him broke, snapped clear in half, and he grasped each side of her face, forcing her eyes to his and pushing her back against the door.
He spoke, voice low. “Stop.”
Her mouth clicked shut, wide eyes on his.
“Shatter my future?” he very nearly growled. “Ruin my dreams? Youaremy dream, Sophie. You are the future that was shattered when I heard you were married. Your arrival on my doorstep changed my life, yes, but not in this negative light you paint. You think I do not see how far out of my reach you are? You think I do not know how I’ve resigned myself to a life of unrequited love by marrying you? That is the only concession I have had to make—and I would do it time and again if it meant sharing a life with you—being with you forever.”
His chest heaved when his tirade fell silent, the inches of space between them filled with snapping fire.
“You mean it?” Her voice was near a whisper.
“Every bit.” Candles flickered on the wall several paces away from them.
“Even the part about… unrequited love?”
He nodded. Groaned. Brushed back her hair and could not make himself move away. Something in her eyes held him close. “Especially that. Soph—I planned to court and marry you five years ago. All my friends believed I’d be the first to wed and win that idiotic bet; they knew I was so much in love already. But when I returned home… You were gone. Then you were married, lost to me.”
Her eyes flicked between both of his, and then, without warning, her hands grasped his lapels and her mouth collided with his own.
