Not as matters stood.
And he needed to know that.
Of course, he would not expect to, would he? Especially in light of Brookes’ plan — whatever that was.
Nonetheless, if Lord Harold had any expectations in that quarter, she’d felt it best to set him straight tonight!
On the heels of her Aunt Gertrude came Harold’s Great-Aunt Florence, and then his second cousin on his mother’s side, Mr. White, and then his mother’s dearest friend, Lady Catherine — Caroline — Camilla — something or other…
Before she knew it, the reception line was dwindling, and the guests of honor, primarily, she, her parents, Dudley — damn him — and Harold were announced.
No further chance at privacy arose.
Even the single waltz they were allowed was performed with the entire ballroom of guests looking on. Thank heavens, she knew the steps well. As, of course, did Lord Harold.
It was as though every guest, note of music, and rule of etiquette was designed to keep Sophia from discussing anything of import with her fiancé.
Surely, he would not intentionally avoid such an important matter, would he?
As the evening progressed, Sophia resigned herself to the fact that she would simply have to make herself clear to her fiancé when the time came.
Furthermore, she had another matter on her mind. Well, another man, that was. At the beginning of the evening, her mother had handed her a dance card, prefilled of course!
God forbid the bride be a wallflower.
Was all of this planning performed out of some misguided sense of altruism, or was it blatant manipulation? She’d become quite cynical in that the details of her life were now organized by some all-knowing, unseen force from above.
She’d been thrilled to see, however, that somehow, Captain Devlin Brookes had managed to reserve a waltz with her.
It was to be the last set of the evening.
* * *
Brookes,being a gentleman in a gentleman’s world, had, in fact, found several occasions to speak privately with Harold. And they’d not wasted time discussing the weather.
In addition to their original plan, they’d discussed a myriad of other possibilities, no matter how farfetched. By this time, their options were narrowed down to two scenarios.
Harold’s self-confidence was their largest stumbling block. He’d never been known for his courage, nor for his strength of will.
Dev did not blame his cousin. As an adolescent, Harold’s father had criticized him relentlessly. And not with simple rebukes, rather with persistent attacks to Harold’s dignity.
Harold had had little reason to doubt the duke.
On some days, Harold was bold, outspoken, and ready to act. Unfortunately, on those other days, he questioned himself, the core of who he was and what he deserved in life.
Devlin’s support persisted.
He knew Sophia had doubted him, despite her words.
Good heavens! She’d told him she loved him!
At first, he’d been shocked. He’d not considered love, romantic love or otherwise, a great deal in his life. It was something that existed, between himself and his father, his other family members, and at times, between a captain and his men.
It was never spoken. It was just there. It existed.
It existed when Devlin visited his father, when they shared a drink. It existed when he’d protected another soldier, putting himself at risk. It existed when he and his men sat around a fire on a harsh, cold night with little protection. When they’d lifted each other up, knowing that melancholy was a dangerous thing.
And so, when Sophia had told him she loved him, at first, he’d felt… irritated by it, suffocated.
