Where to start? There were so many things he had done for her and her family. ‘Firstly, for not revealing why we were both in the conservatory. My sister is not a bad person, my lord. She is excitable and falls in love dramatically quite frequently, and there have been numerous ideas over the years but nothing quite as heinous as last night.’
‘You think she was in love with my brother?’ He leaned against the wall.
‘Not real love, or even the sort of love poets write about.’
‘There’s a difference?’ One dark eyebrow raised.
‘Of course.’
‘Would you care to explain?’
Life was strange. If anyone had told her yesterday morning that she would be discussing different types of love with Lord Christopher today, she would have thought they had run mad. And yet, here she was. ‘Real love is what sustains a long, happy marriage. It is formed out of mutual respect for your partner. It does not go up and down but is a steady constant. Poetic love is dramatic and painful and not at all realistic.’ She could see he was about to argue with her, but she hurried on. ‘Marrisa felt neither of those for your brother. How could she? They had never engaged in a conversation. All she saw was a man who looked handsome in his fine clothes but who had a reputation for not saying much and for always looking rather stern. From that she concocted a grand love affair, all of which was in her head. It was innocent enough and I thought little of it until I overheard her… well, you must have heard some of it too.’
‘What about his title?’ Christopher had straightened and folded his arms across his chest while she was speaking. The gesture highlighted his muscles bunching beneath the sleeves of his jacket. Robert did not have arms like that. A tiny traitorous voice in her head told her what a shame that was, but she ignored it. Comparing one person to another was not pleasant and something she only did when thinking about herself and her sisters, and as that made her feel inadequate, she tried to avoid doing that too.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked.
‘It is the duke’s title that attracts most of the attention my oldest brother gets.’
She laughed before realising he was serious. ‘Um, perhaps his being a duke added to my sister’s sense of romantic adventure, but…’ how to put it tactfully? ‘…I rather think it was the red jacket Glanmore wore to the Dalrymple soiree that first persuaded her he was the man of her dreams. It was very fancy; all the ladies were atwitter about it.’
‘They were?’ He rubbed his chin with his thumb, a small frown marring his forehead.
Sophia wasn’t sure why, but she was quite enjoying his mild consternation. ‘Oh, yes. The Duke of Glanmore is widely regarded as the most handsome bachelor on the marriage mart, regardless of the title.’
‘Handsome! Tobias!’ Lord Christopher snorted as if her statement were the most ludicrous thing he had ever heard, when it shouldn’t have been. All the Dashworth brothers were pleasing to the eye. Tall, broad-shouldered and with midnight-black hair, they were alike in many ways. Not that she would admit it to him, he was quite arrogantly confident enough without any further compliments, but Lord Christopher probably had the edge over the four of them. To her mind, anyway. It was the dimple that made an appearance when he half-smiled. Or perhaps it was the mischievous twinkle in his eyes that drew women in. Regardless, it was only a subjective approval on her part. Her heart lay with Robert in Peddleton, the place in the country where her parents had their family estate. Robert, who was steady and calm and whom she had not thought about since this morning and whom she would do well to keep in mind. For a long time now, she had thought of him as her chosen partner and she had been steadfast in her behaviour, showing him that she would make a respectable wife. It had been quite the effort when the rest of her family were determined to show their frivolous nature at every given opportunity,and she was not about to throw all that hard work away because she’d had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Lord Christopher was still muttering darkly, glaring at the door to the Blue Lounge as if it had somehow offended him. The devil in her, the one she managed to suppress most of the time, prompted her to add, ‘Do not worry. I am sure as you age, you will catch him up in looks.’
The look he shot her was priceless, making it impossible not to laugh. Even pressing her fingers to her lips didn’t stop the giggles from emerging.
‘Oh, I see. You thought that was amusing.’ His eyes were shining with humour now; whatever had irked him had passed.
‘You seemed put out that your oldest brother is considered universally handsome. I am afraid the teasing wrote itself.’
‘If we are allowed to tease one another—’ he leaned forward, dangerously close to invading her space ‘—I am allowed to discuss the library last night.’
His grin turned wicked and she felt the upper hand in this conversation slipping away from her. ‘If you want to talk about how the idea of getting married to you made me drink a glass of brandy, then please be my guest.’
‘One glass.’ That dark eyebrow quirked. For a line of hair, it was really quite expressive.
‘Maybe two.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘There was a third but most of it ended up on your trousers. For which, I believe, I have already apologised.’
‘So you have.’
‘I am sure you would have preferred it if I had aimed for your mouth.’
‘It is not a drink I am fond of. Even less now,’ he added with a wink.
A maid entered carrying a tray of delicious-looking cakes. Normally, Sophia would be rushing over to partake in a sweet treat, but for some reason, she wanted to stay exactly where she was. Obviously because she needed to resolve the issue of not getting married to this man. ‘May we never speak of last night ever again? Or at least the part where I humiliated myself.’
‘It was not that bad.’ He straightened, leaning back against the bookshelf and away from her. ‘You were quite sweet really.’
‘Sweet? I was a gibbering mess. When I think of it, my soul leaves my body, so embarrassed am I by my behaviour.’
