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“As good as one could expect,” Gabriel answered simply.

Mr. Jones laughed. “I never had much love for the concept myself. More of a bachelor.” He made sure to wink at Sophia, who frowned at the action.

“And as a bachelor, I assume the alcohol is free flowing?” Gabriel asked.

Now that they were married, Gabriel did not bother with the charade of pretending he and Sophia were in love. He did not hold her arm, he did not stand close, and he did not pay her much attention. He looked around the party, still appearing bored, and Sophia felt a strange stab in her gut at the feeling of being ignored.

“Of course!” Mr. Jones said. “And you, Your Grace…” He turned on Sophia. “What choice of poison would you like?”

Sophia was taught not to drink at social events like this. Especially those with small crowds where she could be easily watched. Alcohol lowered inhibitions, loosened the tongue, and led to bad decisions made that ought to be avoided.

She felt her tongue moisten, and she was desperate for a drink. But old habits died hard, and she could hear her mother’s voice warning her in the back of her head.

“I am quite fine, thank you,” she said politely.

Mr. Jones grinned. “They were right about you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I meant nothing by it,” he chortled. “I have just heard what a…” He flashed his eyes over her. “What a delight you are. A true bastion of your class. It is so wonderful not to be disappointed.”

“I simply do not feel like drinking.”

“I am sure you do not,” he laughed, still observing her in a way that made Sophia’s skin crawl. “Wait here, Your Grace, I will be right back with your drinks.”

“You are welcome to drink if you wish,” Gabriel said once they were alone. “I won’t judge.”

“I know I can,” she said back. “I simply do not wish it.”

He eyed her curiously and she knew that he did not believe her. By the looks of things, he was about to call her out, maybe even mock her, but thankfully Mr. Jones returned with a butler who held a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Shall we talk business?” Mr. Jones asked as the drinks were poured. Then he glanced at Sophia again. “Perhaps best to wait until we are in suitable company?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Introductions then!” Mr. Jones cried. “There are plenty here who wish to meet you.”

“Yes, yes, let us get on with it.” Gabriel allowed himself to be led, leaving Sophia to follow behind without a fuss.

When Gabriel had told her about tonight’s party, Sophia felt a flood of excitement washing over her. After a week of being alone in a new home with little to do, she saw tonight as her chance to finally break free and act in ways that she had never dreamed.

She did not know what she would do. She did not know how she would do it. All she knew was that once she was out in public, no longer being watched and judged, that she would let her hair down like she never had before.

Or so I thought. Now, I am beginning to realize something about myself: that I am not the paramour of rebellion and good times that I always thought.

She had blamed her mother and father for so long for the way that she was forced to behave, without considering the very likely fact that it’s just who she was.

And so… the evening unwound in typically boring fashion.

She spent it walking behind her husband, listening as he met various guests, smiling when spoken to, offering short and politeanswers, but never speaking out of turn or saying anything unexpected.

And to make matters even worse, she felt her husband watching her the whole time. Worse still, she felt his judgement. He had married her because he believed there was more than then met the eye, and now he was proven wrong.

“I have a most wonderful idea!” Mr. Jones found them again, a few hours after the evening had started. He swayed a little as he approached, and when he came closer, Sophia could smell the whiskey on his breath. “If you will indulge me, Your Grace.”

“And this idea is…” Gabriel sighed.

Mr. Jones pumped his eyebrows. “I have been told what a wonderful pianist your wife is…” He turned slightly and gestured across the room, past the hallway, and toward the adjoining room where there sat a pianoforte. “What say that she play for us?”