He swallowed and stared at a spot over her shoulder. ‘I can still go.’
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Her eyes started to burn; she blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry. For some reason, it was important to her not to show this weakness in front of him. Her mind raced, trying and failing to come up with a better alternative because, deep down, she knew there wasn’t one. Instead of focusing on her heart breaking, she should be grateful that Christopher was a kind man who would do this for her and not someone who would not care about walking away from the mess.
An empty marriage was far from what she wanted for her life and yet what he was saying did make sense. Her family would not be ostracised from Society. She would not have to banish herself to a lonely existence in the country. Christopher was right that he couldstill travel. He could be gone for years. There were plenty of wives in the Ton who rarely saw their husbands. There would be no scandal. No drama. At least not on the outside. On the inside, this marriage had the potential to hurt her more than anything. The long betrothal she had suggested would feel like a mutual decision; his disappearing for a long time would feel like an abandonment. Yet, she could not dismiss his suggestion out of pride, not if the alternative was to condemn everyone in their immediate circle to a life of scandal. Somewhere deep inside her, she recognised that she should be grateful towards Christopher for stepping up when it mattered, but it didn’t stop her heart hurting. She hadn’t wanted Christopher’s life to change because of their betrothal and now it was going to irrevocably.
Her breathing was shuddery, but at least when she spoke, her voice sounded calm. ‘Very well, I accept your suggestion.’
Saying the words out loud was like stepping off a cliff. The room seemed to spin around her, as if she were falling and spiralling into nothingness. Life was never going to be the same again.
Chapter Twenty-eight
In the days that followed, Christopher had plenty of time in which to regret the way he had asked Sophia to marry him, if that’s what you could call his muddled conversation. He’d stumbled from her family’s house, sick to his stomach at the distress in her eyes. He couldn’t remember getting back to Glanmore House after he’d stepped from her front door, although he must have climbed into the carriage and driven the greys through the streets. When he’d come back to himself, he had been sitting in the Blue Lounge with his sisters-in law, Kate handing him a cup of tea and a sandwich. Little Arabella had been asleep in her mother’s arms and Peter and Silas had been entertaining Lotte using a stick and a ball of wool. Their childish laughter was normally a balm to his soul, but on that day it hadn’t soothed the ragged emotions running through him.
He’d blurted out, ‘The idea of marrying me is hateful to her.’
He hadn’t been too far gone to notice his sisters-in-law share a look, but he’d had no idea what that had meant; still didn’t days later.
‘I am sure she is still adjusting to the idea,’ Emily had said kindly.
‘No. You do not understand. She and I have been trying to think of a way out of the betrothal this whole time, but we have not been able to think of a way that does not invite scandal. Finally, it dawned on me that there was not one.’ He could tell them all about Robert,but he did not want to betray Sophia’s confidences. ‘Wehaveto go through with this marriage because there is no way out.’ He’d thought Sophia might have been, if not pleased, then at least a little grateful. She had enjoyed their kiss, he was sure of that, and he had thought she would be relieved at securing a future without scandal, but the look on her face… ‘As I was saying this to her, she was trying to hide the fact that she was crying. The idea of us being wed is that awful.’
He’d pressed a hand to his ribs. He’d always thought the word heartbroken was melodramatic, but a fissure had seemed to open up in his chest and he thought he might understand the sentiment after all.
‘Do you mean you told her that you must marry?’ Emily had asked and he had nodded.
‘It does not sound as if you approached it in the most romantic of ways. Perhaps that might explain the tears,’ Emily had said, another glance at Kate, who had nodded.
‘It is not a romantic relationship.’
Arabella had cried out in her sleep and Emily had rubbed her daughter’s back in slow circles. ‘I know your relationship with Sophia did not start out that way, but Kate and I both saw you at the Albrighton soiree and there are feelings involved now. You cannot fake the looks you were giving her.’
‘Those were not loving looks.’ His skin had burned at his confession, but his sisters-in-law were married women, one of whom had a baby, the other expecting one. They knew what went on in a marriage bed; they would understand how he had been looking at Sophia. Perhaps his brothers would box his ears if they knew what he had insinuated to their wives, but he had been pretty desperate for someone to understand him, to not mistake him for a romantic hero.
‘Hm,’ Emily had said, clearly trying to hide a smile. Kate hadn’t managed to hold it together at all, but at least she’d had the decency to hide her snigger with a cough. His skin had nearly melted off, such had been the level of his temperature.
‘What I am trying to say is…’
Emily had held up a hand. ‘We understand what you are implying, Christopher. There is no need to dig yourself any deeper into the pit you are creating for yourself. We are married; we do know to what you are referring.’ He’d put the sandwich back down on his plate, what little appetite he’d had vanishing completely. ‘And while we admire your honesty…’
‘Do we?’ Kate had asked mildly.
‘We do. Because if he is talking to us, then all is not lost. Your betrothed is a beautiful woman. If that aspect of a relationship did not come into it, then that would be more worrying.’ Christopher had briefly wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment, but unfortunately for him, he had carried on living and, even worse, Emily had continued to talk. ‘But trust me when I say,thatwas not the only thing on your mind. When you look at Sophia, your heart shines in your eyes, Christopher. It is probably too early to call it love, but it is something more than like.’
He had grunted. He did more than like Sophia; those feelings could turn deeper if he allowed it. After her reaction to his revelation that they had to marry, he wasn’t convinced that caring for her even more deeply was a good idea. It already stung that she wasn’t happy about the idea; if he loved her, that would be worse.
‘Did you mention that you are developing feelings for her when you discussed that you would have to marry? Did you suggest that your marriage could be a happy one?’ Emily had asked.
He’d squirmed on his seat, because of course he had not. Sophia’s eyes had been red-rimmed when he arrived; she’d clearly been crying not long before he’d entered the room. He’d not known whether to ask her about it or pretend not to notice. Tabitha had left, saying she would send a maid in as chaperone, and he’d had no idea how long he’d have before a stranger made an appearance and witnessed the whole thing. He had blurted everything out, which, in hindsight, had not been a good idea.
Perhaps if he’d started by kissing her, even on the hand, the whole interaction may have gone better. Or, if he’d spoken more slowly, given her time to think about what he was saying, she might not have fought tears before slumping in recognition that they had to marry after all. He’d had time to come around to the idea, had time to even look forward to many aspects of married life, had pictured their wedding night, many, many times, along with the days after, in which he’d hoped they’d barely make it out of their suite of rooms at Glanmore House. If he’d shown her a hint of what they might look forward to, perhaps she wouldn’t have rejected the idea so vehemently and it wouldn’t have felt like she’d pierced his heart with a knife. Her eventual acceptance had been worse still. The way she had squared her shoulders as if standing up to something awful would haunt him for the rest of his days.
‘I think you should try again,’ Emily had suggested. ‘You are correct that marriage is inescapable for both of you, but that does not mean it is a bad thing. Look at Freddie and me. We were forced to get married and I have never been happier.’
‘Freddie was in love with you before you married,’ he’d pointed out.
‘Quite,’ she’d said, which wasn’t the best thing for her to say, because it implied he and Sophia were in love and he knew they weren’t.
‘Just try again,’ Emily had said.
