‘Graham, it has indeed.’ Christopher realised it had been many weeks since he had last seen the man, so long ago he could not remember when they had last spoken. Until recently, they had not gone more than a few days before running into one another in the same social circles, but he hadn’t even noticed Graham’s absence from his life. Guilt hit him like a punch in the stomach, followed quickly by the realisation that he didn’t particularly want to speak to him now. This conversation, which he had to have because he was not evil, was delaying him from reaching Sophia’s side. ‘How are you, my friend?’
‘I cannot complain,’ said Graham, bobbing his head up and down, looking remarkably like a chicken. ‘As for you, I have heard a rumour that you are getting leg-shackled. Say it is not so.’
He was not about to blurt out the truth to Graham; the man had a loose tongue that became practically unhinged when he was in his cups. ‘I am engaged to be married, yes.’
‘Really? Is the Dashworth fortune in trouble? Have you had to tie yourself down with some cit?’
Had Graham always been this appallingly rude or was it the alcohol Christopher could smell on his breath that was making him talk with such disrespectful foulness? ‘Nothing of the sort,’ he said. ‘I am betrothed to Sophia Jacobs.’
Graham wrinkled his nose. ‘Jacobs… Oh, I know. The family has a lot of girls. The younger ones are known for being slightly wild and the older slightly prim and dull. How did you manage to fall into that trap?’
Christopher’s hand curled into a fist. He could not punch Graham, not in front of all these people. He couldn’t call him out either without exposing what the man had said about Sophia and thereby drawing attention to something he was sure she would prefer hidden.
‘Hey, Ashburton, come here.’ Graham was waving over another of their associates. The cravat that had been trying to strangle Christopher earlier grew tighter still.
‘Chris,’ called Ashburton, a new wave of alcohol-smelling breath hitting Christopher. ‘It is good to see you. I was only saying earlier how dull this Season has been because you seem to have dropped off the face of the Earth.’
‘He isbetrothed,’ said Graham, laughing on the final word.
‘I heard something along those lines, but I did not believe it. Christopher Dashworth ensnared by one woman.’ Ashburtonguffawed as though he had never heard anything so preposterous. ‘Are you going to spend your nights in now? Perhaps you will take up reading the newspaper.’
‘I have always read the newspaper,’ said Christopher, wondering how he normally enjoyed the company of these two men. He was sure there had been a time when the three of them had laughed so hard, tears had fallen down his face. That seemed impossible now. ‘It is the only way to find out what is going on in the world.’
The two men laughed, but Christopher had been serious. Just because he liked a good lark, didn’t mean he didn’t keep up with current affairs. He could not have made his investments without knowing what was happening in the wider community. He assumed that all his friends were the same in private; there was nothing funny about their behaviour.
‘What are you both doing here?’ he asked, desperate to get away from them and hoping this would provide a polite opportunity to move away.
‘Got to find myself a wife,’ said Ashburton, all trace of humour fading from his face. ‘Father has told me he’s not releasing any more funds until I find one. So…’ He shrugged. ‘One of the debutantes will be desperate enough to shackle themselves to me and then… but enough talk of that. Warbett is here too. I saw him in the card room. What say we grab him and the four of us go out properly? There is a fight at the Lock and Barrel at eleven. If we leave soon, we should get some prime seats.’
Christopher glanced across at Sophia. Tabitha was talking now and whatever she was saying was vastly amusing his betrothed, because her whole body was shaking with laughter.
‘I am here to the end, gents,’ he said. ‘But you have a great time and give my best to Warbett for me.’
‘Come on, man. It will be a great laugh. I am sure most of the gang will be there.’
But Christopher had stopped listening. In the past, he would have been out of there as quick as a shot, but the thought of standing in the smoky dive with the stench of male sweat and the gut rot they served instead of the decent stuff did not appeal to him. It wasn’t that he wanted to spend the time with Sophia instead, although she did smell a lot nicer. In the carriage he’d noticed she’d been wearing the floral perfume he associated with her and he wanted to bury his nose in her neck to breathe in her scent. It was also the fact that he didn’t drink alcohol much any more and didn’t fancy listening to a lot of drunken ramblings when he could make Sophia laugh. Besides, he’d seen how much she had enjoyed travelling in Tobias’ carriage earlier and he wanted to see that innocent joy again on the way home. He wouldn’t be able to do that if he went off to watch two men brawl.
By the time he had reached Sophia’s side, he was hugely relieved he had not agreed to visit the Lock and Barrel with his old friends. It was true that he did not overly enjoy balls, but it was cleaner and warmer than anything the men had in mind and tomorrow he would wake up feeling fresh rather than woolly-headed from too much foul grog.
‘Miss Lewis,’ he said, bowing at Tabitha. ‘Sophia.’
The two women dropped a curtsy at him; Sophia smiled up at him through her lashes and he couldn’t help but smile back. It was strange that the Ton had the impression of her as being boring. Maybe it was because she was different from her sisters and therefore seemed calm and collected in comparison. Society was full of judgemental people who made snap observations about people and stuck to them. Those people obviously could not see the amusement shining in her eyes, thehumour that told him she was always ready to laugh at the absurd, which was their loss.
‘Are you ladies having an enjoyable evening?’ he asked them, although he found it difficult to tear his gaze away from Sophia.
‘We are,’ said Tabitha, ‘but if you will excuse me, I have just seen my next dance partner and must away.’
‘Oh,’ said Sophia, her smile fading as her friend disappeared into the throng. ‘I thought she was free until the waltz later. I must have misheard.’
The orchestra began warming up for the next dance and although he loathed dancing, Christopher wanted nothing more than to dance with her. He bet she could make it far more entertaining than anyone else ever had. ‘Do you have a partner for this one?’ he asked.
‘No.’ She was still staring in the direction Tabitha had gone. ‘We decided to sit this one out. We have not seen each other much recently and we had a lot to discuss.’
‘Would you care to take a turn about the room with me or perhaps I can interest you in the cotillion. We could talk either way.’
She finally seemed to realise he was there and that Tabitha was not coming back, which was a small dent to his pride, but he could take it. ‘I should like to dance, if you would not mind.’
Not mind! He would get to hold her hand; of course he did not mind. They began to make their way to the dance floor, but as they stepped closer he saw that his two friends had met with Warbett and were standing in a circle not far away. As one, they turned and stared. Sweat gathered at the nape of his neck. If they said anything to upset her, anything at all, then he would… Damn it all to hell. He did not know what he would do, but it would not be good.
