His shoes clicked on the polished floor until a heavy door slammed shut and silence descended, broken only by a gentle snore from Tabitha. Somehow, during all that, her faithful friend had fallen asleep.
Sophia’s fingers brushed the edge of the glass; she must have dropped it to the floor after throwing its contents at Lord Christopher. A hot wave of embarrassment swept through her, burning her from the inside. The brandy had robbed her of herself, dulling her good sense and robbing her of coherent sentences. The numbing sensation was what she’d craved when she had set out to drown her sorrows, although now she’d been found in such an undignified position, she wished she could pull herself together, but it was no good. Trying to reach her normal self was like trying to clutch at pins through a thick ball of wool.
She slumped backwards, her head falling into the bookcase, the hard shelf pressing into the top of her spine. Her body weighed more than it ever had; she could not imagine a time when she would ever be able to lift her arms again.
She’d barely been engaged to Lord Christopher for an hour and already she didn’t recognise herself. Normally able to recall conversations months or years after they had taken place, she was already having a hard time remembering what she’d been talkingabout only seconds ago. Such was the deadening effect of the brandy that she couldn’t even find the energy for tears.
Sometime later, the legs reappeared, this time with more legs and at least one dress. Sunk in misery and heavy exhaustion, she could not bring herself to look up at the new arrivals. What did it matter if new people were witnesses to her humiliation?
All her life, she had been a demure woman, desperate to be different from her rambunctious and often embarrassing family. It had got her precisely nowhere. No, it was worse than that. She was further away from marrying Robert than she had ever been. Being well-behaved had sent her backwards.
‘Goodness,’ said a voice she did not recognise. ‘Who would have thought the idea of marrying you would make a respectable young woman turn to drink?’
‘That is not helpful, Freddie,’ said Lord Christopher. Despite the fact that all the legs were clad in the same type of dark trousers, she was able to pick out his from the two pairs in front of her.
‘No one can see her like this. She would not like it,’ said a light feminine voice, which was followed by the soft rustling of silk. A delicate face framed by golden ringlets appeared in front of her. ‘Good evening, Miss Jacobs. I am Lady Blackmore.’
Sophia’s soul cringed. There was no hope of salvaging this situation. No one should meet a countess for the first time, while drunk and sprawled across the floor of a library. ‘Good evening,’ she managed to croak.
‘We have not met before, but I am to be your new sister-in-law.’
Perhaps it was the kindness of the lady’s tone, or maybe the reference to becoming one of the family brought home the reality of the situation, but for whatever reason, the tears finally arrived, spilling unheeded over her lashes. She wiped them away with the backs of herhands, trying to hide them by making no sound. But it was of no use. The tears were so copious, it was as if she were washing her face with water.
‘Oh dear,’ said the countess. ‘It really is not as bad as it seems. Christopher is a good man, you will see.’
‘It does not matter what I am like,’ said the man himself. ‘There will be no wedding.’
‘Christopher!’ Lady Blackmore twisted slightly to look up at him. ‘Have a little compassion. There is no need to add to Miss Jacobs’ distress. There must be a wedding or it will be worse for her.’ That did not help with the tears.
‘My nerves have been sorely tested this evening, and this situation is not helping.’
‘Thissituationis a young woman whose entire life has been altered because some bossy old grand dames have put their noses into something they should have left well alone. Miss Jacobs is having to adjust to her whole life being turned upside down. Her heart is breaking.’
‘Mine would be too,’ said the first voice, which belonged to a man she did not know. ‘I cannot imagine the horror of being engaged to Christopher.’
‘Again, that is not helpful, Freddie.’ Lord Christopher sounded cross, an emotion she would not have expected from the ever-cheerful man, or at least she supposed he was. He was always laughing and joking with his friends and the stories of him that circulated the Ton suggested that his escapades were always entertaining to him at least.
Lady Blackmore ignored the two men. ‘Can you stand?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ She hoped that wasn’t a lie.
‘I think we should have the Glanmore carriage brought round. Kate and I will escort you and your friend home, and we can resolve everything at a later date. How does that sound?’
She did not know who this Kate was, but hopefully she was someone kind; it was difficult to summon up enough energy to care. Although, ‘later’ and ‘resolve’ were the two best words she had ever heard. ‘Good,’ was all she managed.
Next to her, Tabitha’s snores were getting louder; her friend would be mortified if she realised. Perhaps it would be better if Sophia kept it to herself. Heaven knew,shewould prefer to be completely unaware of current events.
Getting to her feet was far harder than she’d anticipated. Lord Christopher’s hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm as he helped her to remain upright.
‘I do not think I like brandy,’ she told him, as Lord and Lady Blackmore helped Tabitha to her feet. ‘I shall avoid drinking it in future.’
He ignored her, shifting on his feet. Presumably, he wanted to see if progress was being made with her friend, but, in doing so, he caused her to stumble and her face collided with his chest. It was firm and he smelled citrusy, with a deep layer of orange, which may have been caused by her dousing him in brandy. Leaning against him was far preferable to sitting on the floor, so she stayed there.
Chapter Three
It was such a lark,’ claimed Marrisa over bacon and eggs, mid-morning the following day. ‘Not a single soul could understand how Lord Christopher and Soph could have formed an alliance. It was all anyone could talk about. Lord Christopher is so handsome and Soph is incredibly pretty; they looked like a prince and a princess when they were making the announcement.’ Marrisa sighed theatrically, as though the whole thing were a romantic escapade and not a living nightmare. ‘They will have beautiful babies.’
Marrisa smiled as if children between Sophia and Lord Christopher were a foregone conclusion and not something that would never happen even if Sophia lived to be one million years old. Good-looking though he undoubtedly was, her betrothed was not the sort of man one married. He was all fun and frolics and challenging pigeons to duels, if that rumour were to be believed.
