‘Stop!’ Her sisters jumped at Sophia’s shout, but she didn’t care about their wide-eyed shock. ‘You cannot talk about them like that.’
‘Oh, do not be such a stick in the mud, Sophia. How many people do you know that have two men fighting over them? I do not know any. You should be enjoying this, not looking like all your undergarments are twisted.’
‘Marrisa!’
‘Oh come on!’ Marrisa flopped her head back onto the door. ‘For once in your life, let go.’
‘This is not about me. It is about talking about Robert and Christopher with respect. It is about not reducing them to players on the stage of some drama you are concocting in your head.’ Marrisa’s skin flushed red, a bad sign, but Sophia did not care.
‘If you think that men do not discuss us in the same way,’ said Marrisa, ‘then you are very much mistaken.’
‘If that is true, then we should strive to be better.’ She loved her sister, but sometimes it was hard to remember that.
‘All this debate is irrelevant,’ said Mama, accustomed to her daughters arguing, and using the tone of voice she always did when she wanted them to stop it or face the consequences she was prepared to dish out if they didn’t. Even as adults, her daughters listened to that tone. Mama was lovely, but you crossed her at your peril. ‘Sophia is engaged to Lord Christopher, and they will marry before the Seasonis over. Robert may not like it, but he has had plenty of time to ask for Sophia’s hand and he has failed to do so. He will have to live with his regrets.’
Sophia stilled, all the fight from her interaction with her sisters draining from her. She hadn’t realised anyone was aware she was waiting for a proposal from Robert. She had certainly never discussed it with anyone other than Tabitha. Her skin started to burn at the thought of her mother realising she had been waiting and waiting and nothing had been happening. She’d thought no one in her house paid that much attention to her; it was sobering to realise she was wrong. What else did her mother know?
Marrisa threw herself onto the settee near Annie and a brief scuffle over whose skirts should take up what room took place. Not ready to sit down and certainly not willing to listen to more of her sisters’ nonsense, Sophia made her way to the back of the room. It was a large enough space that she could just about shut out her sisters’ voices as they continued to discuss the two men. It was unfair to compare them and Sophia wondered, not for the first time, why her sisters could not see the casual cruelty in their fun. Or perhaps it was Sophia who was as dry as an old twig, just as Marrisa suggested, and she ought to let their behaviour go.
It wasn’t like she could defend either man for their behaviour this evening. Christopher may well have been trying to make himself objectionable, but putting Robert on the spot had been mean.
As for Robert’s reaction… For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to marry him. Visiting his home had been like stepping into a bastion of calm and quiet, and Robert, handsome and steady even as a youth, had been at the centre of that tranquillity. Over the years, their friendship had grown into a deep affection. She believed she would be content with him and the life they would build in the country. They’d had enough conversations about their future for her to understand that he wanted the same as her, although he had never made good on that suggestion.
But now, after one evening, did she even want that union any more? Could she really be with a man who made a point of pointing out another man’s flaws during a dinner party? And, if she was questioning whether he was wrong for her, for even a moment, what did that mean for her future? She was one and twenty. She had turned down marriage offers while waiting for Robert. It wasn’t that she would have accepted them, even if he had not been on the scene – those men had not been right for her either – but what if she was wasting her life waiting for something and it turned out he was not for her after all? If he wasn’t for her and ending the betrothal with Christopher meant she would become too scandalous to wed, then that meant she would spend her whole life alone.
Her stomach churned, her dinner trying to crawl back up her throat.
She paced the length of the far wall, searching for some kind of answer, because she had absolutely no idea what to do next.
She was staring at the frame of a painting as if it would give her the answers she needed, when a deep voice sounded close by, calling her name. She startled slightly, realising the men must have joined them and she had not noticed.
Turning to face Christopher, who had moved to her side undetected, she saw that his eyes were tight, with none of his usual playfulness shining in them. Perhaps he was worried for her mind, because being caught staring at an innocuous object was fairly strange in an evening that had been unusual from the beginning.
‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘I did not mean to alarm you by sneaking up on you unawares. I am afraid I rushed the port. I must away, but I didnot want to leave before saying farewell to you.’ He dipped his head, his gaze falling for a moment. ‘I also…’ He rubbed his chin, before looking back up at her. A peculiar jolt shook her heart when his brown eyes met hers. A not altogether unpleasant sensation, but an odd one, nonetheless. ‘Tonight did not go as I thought it might, and I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable.’
‘I…’ She glanced over his shoulder. The other occupants of the room were observing them with various degrees of subtlety. Words were bubbling up inside her, questions she thought he might be able to help answer, but she could not express them, not here while they were being watched. Perhaps never. Telling him he had been instrumental in turning her whole world upside down in the space of one evening might be too strange even for their unconventional relationship. ‘Not at all,’ she said instead. ‘You have been as kind as always.’
His shoulders twitched and he shook his head slightly. ‘Unfortunately, that was not the case today. But we can discuss the details another time. I must leave you now. Goodnight, Sophia.’
He bowed, striding back towards her parents to take his leave of them, not giving her the chance to respond to him even if she’d been able to find the words. He’d clearly been uncomfortable, and she thought he would rush his goodbyes, but she should have known better. Christopher was a sociable soul, and he still took time to share a short exchange with everyone. He even managed a few words to Robert, who smiled back at him, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
Too soon, Peterson held the door open for Christopher, and he stepped over the threshold. Just before it closed behind him, he glanced back at her. Her heart gave a strange leap as their gaze connected and then he was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
The Blue Lounge back at Glanmore House was quiet, which wasn’t surprising as it was late. Well, not that late. Back when they’d been bachelors, in the brief time all his brothers had lived together before Emily had become Freddie’s wife, none of them would have been in bed this early. But in the space of a year, things had changed dramatically. Of course, his brothers would be with the little families they were building. Freddie with Arabella, his newborn daughter, and Edward with his two young wards, Peter and Silas. Lotte would be with one or other of them too, a picture of family happiness that Christopher didn’t fit into.
Or perhaps his brothers were doing things with their wives that Christopher did not want to think about too deeply, especially as he currently was not doing the same with anyone. He rubbed the back of his neck; maybe the lack of human touch was the source of his tension. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of someone he could call on, someone discreet who would welcome the distraction as much as he would, but all he could picture was that damned bow and what would have happened if he’d been allowed to pull on it.
Perhaps it wasn’t that either; perhaps he needed to talk to someone who wasn’t Sophia, to get some distance from the woman who was now taking up every waking thought. He could always go to his clubor call on a friend. It wasn’t so late that his associates would be abed. Even if they were, they were generally pleased to see him and wouldn’t turn him away. But any one of those men would expect him to be fun, to suggest doing something that would entertain them. Not one of them would want to hear that tonight he wanted to talk about himself and the strange feelings building up inside him.
A drink might help, although he was not a big lover of alcohol, not after some of the worse scrapes he had managed to get himself into. Still, it might quiet the voices that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Pouring himself a large brandy, he smiled at the recollection of Sophia throwing the drink over his legs while tipsy on the library floor. The night of their engagement was a blur, but he would never forget how adorable she had been in her indignation, especially when she had started talking about gravity.
Her perception of herself as boring was unfathomable. In the short time he had known her, they had spent most of their time together talking and laughing. There was never an awkward silence between them, aside from when he made things embarrassing by getting caught staring at her, never a moment when he was with her that he wished he was elsewhere. She was a lot of fun and why she wanted to tie herself to Robert was completely beyond him. The amber liquid splashed over his fingers, and he licked it off before using his sleeve to mop up the drops that had spilled onto the table. Edward would have a conniption if he saw it, but as he wasn’t here Christopher could get away with the minor rebellion.
There was nothing wrong with Robert Harber, not really. He’d been polite and cordial, aside from his small attack on Christopher, which had been entirely deserved. But he wasn’t right for Sophia in ways that Christopher couldn’t quite explain. Not that he’d say anything to her. Whomever Sophia married was her choice and hadnothing to do with him. As he took a sip of his drink, he grimaced. He was not a fan of brandy, but he was too tired to search for anything else and this would do in an emergency.
Making his way over to the settee, he yelped when he caught sight of a sleeve on the armrest of a large wingback. The shape quickly revealed itself as Tobias, who must have been in the Blue Lounge the whole time Christopher had been staring aimlessly at the drinks table. His oldest brother barely moved, no sign that Christopher’s startled gasp amused or annoyed him.
