His words were terrifying. Was she losing him? She knew they were going to have to wait, but how long? Six months? A year? Forever?
She needed to say it first. “I think we ought to wait at least a year. No promises, Dev. No commitments to each other. Neither of us could have predicted the devastation of… all of this. After a year, then perhaps, if we both feel the same as we did... we can see…” Her heart split in two as she spoke. He was her true love.
A year would not change that.
Dev raised her hands to his lips once again.
“We will, Sophia. I’ll prepare my estate for the two of us. We’ll be together then…”
But Sophia shushed him. “We will see.”
His eyes, which had been clouded in grief, suddenly burned clear and black, filled with intensity. “I will prepare my estate for us.” And then he pulled her toward him and his lips pressed against hers.
This kiss was more a promise than a token of passion or affection. His hand had taken hold of the back of her head. When the kiss ended, he dropped his hands but pressed his forehead into hers.
Meeting his gaze, she realized that this man, this brave man, was holding back tears.
She did not want for him to make promises to her that he might not wish to keep. “Prepare your estate, and then we shall see.” But she could not help but take hold of his hands. She pressed into him.
Perhaps her body would say the things she could not say out loud. Perhaps her body knew the words that her mind did not.
They sat this way for several moments. Sharing one another’s essence.
“Sophia!” A voice in the distance caused them to pull apart.
It was the duchess.
With one last kiss, Sophia silently said goodbye.
She then scooped Peaches up and rushed away. “I’m coming, your grace!” she shouted. She would not look back. She could not look back. For if she were to do so, she would most likely burst into tears.
* * *
The weatherthe next day was not ideal for a journey. A drizzle had begun during the night, and by morning had turned into a full-force gale.
Sophia and her grace would wait another day but the duke, St. John, and Dev’s father would depart as planned. They must attend to some business in London before joining Sophia and her grace in the country a few days later.
Normally, they would ride mounts, but, due to the weather, today they would travel by carriage. Dev had departed on horseback just before sunrise. The duchess had casually mentioned that he’d left for Dartmouth Place.
Sophia tried hard not to dwell on the physical distance he was putting between them, but that was nearly impossible. And the weather increased her anxiety. How could anyone travel in such a storm?
As her grace’s knitting needles clinked rhythmically, lightning occasionally flashed in the room. Rain pelted the windows.
Perhaps Dev had been able to get ahead of this storm.
She hated to think of him out in the open, vulnerable to the elements on horseback. She hoped he would have the good sense to stop at an inn and not allow himself to get soaked and then chilled. She already felt his absence greatly.
“Sophia…” Her grace’s voice interrupted her worrisome thoughts. “…I haven’t wanted to bring this up, as it’s something of a personal matter. But your maid hinted to me… Sophia, is it possible that you are increasing? Is it possible that you are carrying Harold’s child?”
Damn Penny and her lack of discretion! Sophia had considered this.
She had missed her courses.
But upon consideration, Sophia was not overly concerned about it. For she had often been irregular, and it was not unusual for her to skip a month or two altogether. Stupid, blabbermouth Penny had merely given her grace hope for something that was highly unlikely. And Sophia was certain to disappoint the poor lady once again.
She smiled sadly. “Although, I suppose, it is possible, it is unlikely, I think.”
But the duchess was persistent. “But it is possible? You have missed your courses, then?”
