For it seemed, she realized as she made her way up to her chamber, she was already, a married woman.
Not Such a Great Evening
“He would cut me off completely, Dev.” Harold spoke into his half-empty pint glass. The performance at Drury Land ended hours ago, and the two cousins had drifted from one club to another until finally settling into the tavern of the lesser-known, and not at all prestigious, King’s Pot and Porridge.
Despite Dev’s decision earlier that day, the evening’s events had compelled him to learn more about this so-called betrothal between his cousin and Miss Sophia Babineaux. Normally, he would not immerse himself in such family affairs, but, well, he had an interest here.
What he ought to do was pack his belongings and make the trip down to Dartmouth Place, forget he’d ever met Sophia Babineaux, and begin carving this so-called new life out for himself. With the commission sold off and the property purchased, nothing was left to keep him in London.
He could ignore the twinge of regret he felt at losing something he’d thought he’d found.
He could resign himself to seeing her, occasionally, on those rare family get-togethers he would feel compelled to attend.
There were other women.
There were always other women.
Harold had been reticent about his engagement for most of the evening. Instead, he spent his energy complaining of the high handedness of his father.
Dev did his best to keep from shaking his cousin.
“That’s why I’ve never allowed myself the luxury of living at Prescott House, Harry,” Dev responded. “I won’t have another man making such decisions concerning my life.”
But this did nothing to relieve Harold’s situation.
Of which Devlin wanted to know more.
He wanted to know more about her, about Sophia.
“She believes you are in love with her, Harold?”
Harold took a long swallow before answering and then laughed with no amusement whatsoever. “Isn’t that a hoot? She’s a fine girl. And a looker too, if I say so myself. Not much in the brains department, but that’s to be expected. She was thrilled when I began courting her — believed everything I told her.”
“What did you tell her, Harry?”
Harold stared straight ahead, not really looking at anything. “I told her I’d been besotted since the moment I saw her. That I’d been too intimidated by her beauty to approach her. I held her hand a few times, pretended she meant the world to me. Grand performance, if I say so myself.”
Dev felt sick.
So, Sophia had been fooled. He’d doubted her.
“She believes you love her,” he confirmed.
“Yes, yes, I rather think so.” Harold took another long drink.
“I presume her parents know the situation.” Devlin conjured the image of the elder Mr. Scofield. He’d looked rather like the cat who’d swallowed the canary.
“Her father, and the brother, I think. Not the mother though… But that’s not the worst of it.”
Good God, how could this get any worse?
“The marriage is a done deal, as far as the legalities. A license was stowed in with all the paperwork both of us signed last week. We’ve both already signed the wedding papers, as have witnesses. It is done. She has no more choices, and neither do I.”
Dev wanted to knock the mug out of his cousin’s hands in that moment. He tempered his actions but not his words. “Do you realize what a cruel thing you’ve done, Harold? Do you realize you’ve ruined a young and innocent girl’s life through your own selfishness?”
Harold nearly choked on a sob at the admonishment. Good, Dev thought. A morsel of guilt, a morsel of conscience was most definitely in order.
But it sounded as though everything had been finalized. And, knowing his uncle as he did, no loopholes would be left open. Even if Mr. Scofield wished to put an end to it, he would be subject to all manner of legal action — even though the contract had not been executed legally. The duke would find a way around that little detail.
