A bump from next door told her that Harold was awake too. Perhaps he’d had some supper brought up. Sophia did not wish to use the bell pull and awaken a maid. They’d already been called upon to do so much extra work that day for the wedding breakfast.
Stepping into her slippers and pulling on her dressing gown, Sophia tiptoed into the adjoining corridor between their two rooms. She would not knock, just in case the noise she’d heard had not come from his chamber. But she would take a quick peek and see if he were relaxing in his sitting room. Perhaps he would be more receptive to what she had to tell him, now, after resting up from the wedding, himself.
She did not carry a candle with her so it was easy to see the light shining through a minuscule crack near the door hinges. Ever so quietly, she turned the knob and gently pushed it open. Just a tad, and if he were sleeping—
He was not.
Sleeping, that was.
Nor was he alone.
By the light of several well-placed candelabras, Sophia had difficulty making sense, at first, of the sight before her.
The valet — yes, that was the handsome valet — bent over Harold, who was face down over the arm of the sofa where she’d sat earlier.
Neither of them were clothed.
Their bodies, together, formed a kaleidoscope of masculinity and passion. Harold’s hands were above his head, seemingly captured by one of the valet’s and pinned in place. The valet was slimmer but more muscular than Harold. If not for the tenderness she could see as his other hand stroked Harold’s thigh, she would wonder if he were not attacking him.
Harold moaned as the other man…
What was he doing from behind? Oh, good Lord!
Oh, good Lord.
The scene ought to be repulsive,her logical mind reminded her, but instead, it was oddly…sensual.
And suddenly provided the answer to so many of her questions.
She pulled the door closed. She did not wish to intrude! She would perhaps be more horrified than either of them if her presence were to be discovered. The door closed with only the lightest of clicks before Sophia let out the breath she’d not realized she’d been holding.
No wonder.
No wonder!
Oh, what a stupid, stupid fool she’d been. Had her stepfather known? Of course, he’d known! And the duke! And St. John! And even the duchess, most probably. Yes, that was perhaps why she’d gone out of her way to be kind to her.
Sophia was to be the mask for her husband’s… unusual preferences.
Had Brookes known? Of course, he’d known!
Sophia returned to her own chamber and began pacing. What did this mean? Did this change anything?
No, not really, not at all.
Except that now she could be quite,quitecertain she would not be expected to lie with her husband.
Could he even? She wondered? What if she wanted a child? This image of her turning into the prunish spinster as his wife was becoming more and more of a reality as she considered the ramifications of what she’d just seen.
She’d known they were to be trapped together, and perhaps she’d thought that if so, perhaps after a few years, or several even, they might decide to have a child.
But could such a man?
Her restlessness woke Peaches, who now danced circles around her and intermittently scratched at the door.
Sophia was no longer thinking of food, but she could not stay inside of her chamber either. She would take Peaches outside. Even though she and her dog were in a strange place, with a host of virtual strangers, she felt no worry for her safety.
With a candlestick in one hand, she slipped out of her bedchamber with Peaches following her enthusiastically.
