Sophia lightly touched her bonnet; even though it should be impossible, she fancied she could still feel that errant curl trying to make itself known. It was not a detail which would interest Robert, so all she said was, ‘Thank you, this is my newest bonnet.’
‘Excellent.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Shall we go? I have been looking forward to this all week. I hear that Albizzi’s detailed painting of the Vatican is particularly worth seeing.’ His blue eyes were alight with joy, and she thought he looked particularly well. Perhaps she had not been mistaken in her desire to marry him, after all, although there was no fluttering in her chest when she looked at him. She reminded herself that she didn’t believe in a grand romance like her sisters did, that all she had ever wanted from marriage was a quiet peacefulness that came from knowing the other person was her dear companion. She did not need the racing heart and the anxiety that romantic love brought.
She and Robert chattered as amicably as ever and before she knew it, they were making their way to the Royal Academy at Somerset House, her maid once again in tow. It was unusual for Sophia to make this many excursions for which she needed a chaperone, but it did notseem as if Mary minded the trips away from the house. She was a rather steadfast companion, whose company was unobtrusive. Sophia made a mental note to gift her something for her kindness and discretion.
As they rode along, Robert told her all the news from home and how he was hoping to purchase some more land in order to start growing crops that were more resilient to the area. He hoped it would provide more revenue for the local population and allow much-needed repairs to the local church. This is what Robert did best. He planned and he cared, and he had a decent soul.
The Royal Academy with its grand setting of Somerset House always made her feel small and insignificant, somehow managing to remind her that her time was fleeting while this giant building with all that it housed was made for the ages. The bust of Michelangelo they passed under at the entrance made her shudder. It was as if the statue could see into her soul and discover the secrets within. Although, of course, she was being fanciful. The bust could no more see her than it could anything else.
She and Robert made their way to the Great Room where the exhibition was displayed; the noise of many chattering voices could be heard long before they reached the door. Much like all events during the Season, the place was packed with members of the Ton, most of whom were not looking at the paintings but at one another.
Glancing about the crowd, she spotted a dark head and her heart lurched, thundering beneath her ribs with an almost painful ferocity. The swoop of her stomach when she realised that the person wasn’t Christopher was equally startling.
‘Is anything amiss?’ asked Robert. ‘You have gone a little pale.’
‘It is warm in here,’ she said, waving a hand in front of her face, shocked at her physical reaction; she’d never experienced anything like it before.
Robert glanced at the walls where the exhibition was arranged, before looking back at her. ‘Do you wish to return home?’ She could hear the reluctance in his voice but admired him for asking.
‘And deny you your chance to see Albizzi’s work? Of course not.’ She managed to summon up a smile. ‘Is there a painting you should like to start with or are we going to walk in a particular direction?’
‘I should like to see it all. Let us proceed from this way. I believe Albizzi intended for the scenes to be observed in a certain order and I always feel it is best to view things as they were designed.’ Robert marched to the first painting on the left. Sophia trailed after him, her fingers trembling slightly. She had not expected to feel so strongly about catching a glimpse of Christopher and she couldn’t lie to herself that it was anything different from what it was. Without planning to, she appeared to have developed a tendre for Christopher, which was a complete and utter disaster. A soft spot for him was all well and good, but she still did not want to marry him. He was funny and friendly and had the kindest heart underneath all his antics, but he was not a responsible man and certainly not marriage material. She had no desire to change him, but she could not tie herself to a man who found irresponsible adventures fun. Not only that, Christopher had repeatedly told her he was never going to marry anyone, so this development could only lead to heartache and she was too sensible for that. Pining for a man who wasn’t interested was possibly the biggest waste of anyone’s time.
Having unexpectedly developed these unwanted feelings, surely, she could fall back out of them with ease. It wasn’t love she was experiencing, and people fell in and out of that all the time. This hadto be easier than that. All she had to do was remind herself of some of the wilder stories about him and she would be fine. If only she could remember some…
Robert was eulogising about the fourth painting when Christopher finally arrived, only he wasn’t alone. His sister-in-law, Lady Blackmore, was on his arm. Sophia’s heart picked up again, falling over itself with excitement as Christopher approached. He caught her gaze, and he smiled widely, which made her heart leap about. She pressed a hand to her chest, momentarily concerned that someone would be able to see it beating, even though she knew that was quite impossible.
‘Ah,’ said Robert softly.
She turned to look at Robert, but he was looking at Christopher, and she could not tell from his expression what he was thinking. Before she could properly catch her breath, he arrived at their side, and everyone was bowing and curtsying in greeting.
‘Emily Dashworth, the Countess of Blackmore, may I introduce you to Mr Robert Harber, and, of course, you have met Miss Jacobs,’ said Christopher. ‘Lady Blackmore is a huge admirer of Albizzi’s work. When I said I was coming to the exhibition, she insisted on joining us.’
Lady Blackmore smiled sweetly and little pinpricks of sweat rushed across Sophia’s brow. She had not seen Lady Blackmore much during her short betrothal and one of those times she had been rolling around like a drunken fool on the floor of a library. Goodness knows what the woman thought of her, the girl who had inadvertently trapped her brother-in-law into an engagement he did not want. This afternoon was going to be even more awkward than she had anticipated, and she already had low expectations. That errant curl chose this moment to escape from her bonnet. It flopped forward,strands of hair sticking to her skin, as she tried to poke it back into place with the tips of her fingers.
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Blackmore,’ said Robert. ‘I am thrilled to hear you are also a lover of Albizzi’s work. This is one of my favourites of his.’ He gestured to the painting in front of them. ‘I think the way the artist has used the light to illustrate the objects on the floor is so subtle and clever. It really makes the masterpiece a painting of great beauty.’
‘Indeed,’ said Lady Blackmore, stepping forward to get a closer look. ‘But I also think what he has hidden in the shadows is equally as fascinating.’
Robert beamed. ‘You are quite right. Tell me, what do you think of…?’
Christopher leaned towards her, a faint hint of his cologne reaching her. ‘Shall we let them wander on ahead? I think they may have more interest in these paintings than either of us.’
‘I believe they have more interest than most people here.’
Christopher glanced around at the other occupants in the room, and she followed his gaze. A handful of people were studying the paintings; the rest were using the opportunity to gossip. It was pretty much standard fare for an afternoon out in Society.
‘You are quite right, as always.’ He grinned at her and her heart flipped. It really was most unfair that he was having this effect on her body. From his relaxed stance, she was not having the same impact on him.
He held out his arm, and she slipped her hand through it. Beneath her fingers, his arm was solid and warm, and she had the strangest urge to run her hand along the length of it up to his wide shoulders. Fortunately, her common sense prevailed and she kept it where it was.The chattering crowd was loud enough that very soon they could not hear what Lady Emily and Robert were discussing.
Christopher leaned his head towards her. ‘Has he asked you to end our betrothal yet?’
‘No!’ Sophia glanced about her to see if anyone was listening to them, but not a single soul was looking in their direction. Now that they were an engaged couple, she supposed that they were boring, even if he was a Dashworth. ‘Robert is a gentleman. He is not going to ask me to break things off with you on a whim.’
‘You are right, we have not given him enough time and perhaps I have not been obnoxious enough in his presence. I could do something now, if that would please you.’
‘No. I beg of you not to do anything. If it comes to it, I can tell him you have no intention of marrying me. But as I said last time, I do not want you to act in any way that is not normal for you.’
