And what did that make Captain Brookes?
Her mind was tired from trying to figure it all out.
With the wedding less than a week away, one would think she’d be more panicked than she was.
She had seen Captain Brookes at various social occasions. And even though, around his family, he’d treated her with a proper respect and distance, she had found a comfort knowing he was near. She’d felt… peace in seeing him, even knowing their love — if that was what it was — was bound for disappointment.
When they last spoke at the park, he’ been supportive of both her and of his cousin, Harold. She was trying to think of Lord Harold by his first name. He’d not asked her to, but knowing that he was already her husband…
And that thought set her off again; she bristled at the high-handedness of it. Why had they done that? Why had they stolen her choices?
The questions never came with any answers.
She only wished she could quiet them somehow.
* * *
The eveningof the pre-wedding ball, Sophia couldn’t help but have a sense of expectancy. For surely,surely,if anything could be done to stop the ceremony, it would be accomplished tonight. For even though she’d already signed the license, Sophia could not help but hope for Captain Brookes to somehow produce a miraculous discovery, discrediting it all.
And in her wildest imaginations, Sophia had dreamed up numerous scenarios whereupon she stumbled upon thousands of pounds and could refund the monies paid by Harold’s family. Not that she truly expected any of this but…
A girl could hope, couldn’t she?
If she was to be saved from this marriage, it would happen tonight.
With such ridiculous expectations in mind, she stood in the reception line beside her fiancé and greeted each guest pleasantly, as though for all the world she were a blushing bride. Lord Harold did the same.
Nearly every young lady who greeted her was most likely envious. Harold was the son of a duke. He was good-looking, kind, and wealthy. She’d achieved great success on the marriage mart. She must be over the moon!
And she might have been... but appearances could be greatly misleading.
Sophia had, as of yet, failed to find a single moment alone to speak privately with her fiancé. Had he designed it that way intentionally? Was it his way of avoiding her accusations?
With questions whirling around her brain, she would not pass up an opportunity, no matter how brief, to speak privately with him tonight.
Such a chance arose as she and Harold greeted an endless train of guests in the receiving line before the ball. The duke and the duchess –– on one side of them –– were earnestly listening to an elderly man, and her parents –– on the other side –– could not escape the one-sided conversation of Mr. Scofield’s sister. Sophia and Harold had only each other with whom to converse.
She determined to make the most of it.
Leaning in, she wasted no time. “Your cousin says you are in love with another. Tell me, please. I know nothing can be done, but be honest with me. Is this true?”
He’d not been looking at her when she first hissed these words, but as he realized what she was saying, he turned to her, initially making an attempt at shock and denial.
“Do not play me for a fool, my lord. I hold no malice but I would have you be honest with me. Please.”
And then he let out a long breath.
And nodded. “Dev spoke with you?” His tone held more sincerity in that moment than she’d heard from him… well, ever.
“He has.” Glancing toward her mama, and realizing she’d not a great deal more time, she had to ask the next question. “I can never find a chance to speak privately with you. But I wanted, well, I need to be certain, to know…” Oh, how did one say such a thing? “We aren’t going to consummate this marriage, are we?” She wished she could have been allowed some privacy with him before now. Lord Harold’s eyes flew open wide, but no sooner had the question escaped her, when they were interrupted again.
“Lord Harold, Sophia dear.” Aunt Gertrude and an elderly man who often acted as her companion stepped forward. “What an exciting night for both of you!” Her aunt, whom she’d only just seen at nuncheon, gushed as though it had been months. She exclaimed over how handsome a fiancé Lord Harold was and how honored Sophia must be to marry into such a fine family.
Sophia wished to stomp her foot in frustration. She’d wanted an answer from Harold, by God. And if it proved to be the wrong one, she would have an argument. She was tired of the lack of transparency she’d experienced these past few weeks, and, well, a girl needed to know this sort of thing.
Because she most certainly did not want to do, well,that… with Harold.
She would not.
