“Stewart loves my mother nearly as much as I do. She has welcomed him into our home. She has never treated him as a servant, or as a villain. He would have me do whatever I could to ease her suffering.”
Sophia considered what he was suggesting. “Penny, my maid, is awfully observant.”
At that, he chuckled dryly. “Apparently so.”
“Knowing this, there are things that can be done… acts that could be staged…” Sophia’s mind was already considering how it could be accomplished. Was she really considering this? “But there would be more to it than that. While we needn’t make spectacles of ourselves, it would be necessary for us to act affectionately toward one another, specifically, when we are in the presence of any servants. For they truly are the backbone of the really good, juicy gossip.”
“You would not mind?”
Sophia contemplated all that he would be sacrificing, if he went ahead and staged his death. A few weeks of playacting was nothing compared to that. “I do not mind, Harold. You do realize, however, that this will require we share a chamber at night.”
“You’ve nothing to fear on that front.” Again, that dry, cynical laugh. “It will be like sleeping with my sister.”
Sophia groaned and then laughed a little too. At his jest, but also at the ironies of life. But that her own stepbrother had been similarly inclined as well.
* * *
Pretendingto be in an intimate relationship with Harold proved easier than she’d thought. For she did feel a rather, well, sisterly affection for him. And since Harold had never been considered an outwardly emotional person anyway, not much would be expected of him even if he did have an affection for his wife.
While sitting in their private dining room the first night, when the driver slipped inside to ask a question of him pertinent to the following day’s travels, Sophia made the most of the interruption. Recalling her night with Devlin, Sophia picked up a particularly succulent piece of an orange and reached forward, placing it against Harold’s lips.
And Harold understood her motive immediately.
He opened his mouth and ate the slice right out of her fingers. He then, even managed to send a hooded and sultry look her way. She’d barely been able to contain herself until they were alone again before she burst out laughing. “Where’d you learn to do that, Harold?” Oh, such a foolish question. Perhaps he and Stewart had…?
“Perhaps I ought to have been born to the stage?” He laughed back.
They’d other similar moments, but not too many. Sophia and he had discussed that too much of a difference in their behavior could give the charade away just as easily as not enough. They would be subtle, and yet, not.
The most awkward hurdle they faced, of course, was sharing a chamber. She wondered who was the most uncomfortable when he followed her back to the large suite reserved for them. It did, in fact, only have one bed. Harold had gone downstairs for a nightcap while Penny attended to Sophia’s bedtime needs.
“Brush it at least one-hundred times,” Sophia told her. And then she asked, “Did you remember to bring my perfume?” Sophia imagined how she would feel, what she would say, if she’d known that it was to be Dev, instead of Harold, coming to her tonight.
Penny merely smiled and then pulled the vial of perfume from a cloth sack. “Of course, my lady,” she said.
Whenever Sophia was alone with her thoughts, her mind returned to Dev.
What was he doing right now? When would he come to Priory Point? Sometimes she thought she missed himtoomuch. She felt she would die if she didn’t see him soon.
Which was ridiculous, of course. And melodramatic.
When he was with her, anything seemed possible. On the same hand, the longer she went without seeing him, the more impossible the situation felt. Oh, she loved him though. She did not doubt that any longer.
And he loved her.
She would not allow herself to distrust him again.
He’d knelt beside her on her bed and made the same vows Harold had made in a church of God.
But they’d meant so much more.
She’d not asked him to do so. And he’d not asked her to reciprocate. He’d wanted to give her reassurance, comfort… love.
Yes, he loved her.
She worried about him. He was strong, yes, and fit, and healthy. He’d been honed for defense, a military man for over a decade.
But he was also flesh and blood. He was a mere man, after all, besides all of his confidence and abilities. He’d said he would do something about Dudley, but what did he have in mind? She chastised herself a million times since for not demanding he keep himself from danger.
