He went next, managing three skips on his first attempt.
Sophie took longer to prepare the second time, casting aside several stones before selecting the best one.
It skipped three times.
Baron Sylvestor’s stone skipped thrice as well.
“One point to me, and one draw,” he said.
Sophie bent her knees this time, focusing hard. She squinted at the pond. If one could move stones through power of will, she’d certainly win. Alas, no such thing was possible, and the stone skipped three times once more.
Baron Sylvestor rolled up his shirtsleeves and made a show of biting his tongue in concentration.
His stone skipped four times.
The wind blew his hair in his face, and he brushed it aside, grinning widely. “I win.”
Drat. She shouldn’t have been so confident when she was out of practice. “So you do.”
They didn’t stop, though. They skipped stones for a while longer, and eventually, Sophie got the four count that she was aiming for.
As they headed back, she used the parasol to shield herself from the sun again, but she feared that she had already spent too much time exposed. Her cheeks would no doubt be pink, and her mother wouldn’t miss the chance to comment.
As they wandered side by side in companionable silence, the baron cleared his throat.
“I’m not asking this in a formal capacity,” he said, his tone mild, his gaze fixed ahead. “Your answer won’t constitute a commitment. But are you open to the idea of a marriage between us?”
Sophie’s mouth went dry, and a hollow pit opened in her gut. She hadn’t expected this question. At least, not yet.
Perhaps she should have, though. She’d allowed herself to be distracted by Nicholas, and now she was caught off guard and uncertain how to respond.
“I… I am, but as you said, I can’t make any sort of commitment without my parents’ permission.”
She’d have it. She had absolutely no doubt of that. But shealso couldn’t bring herself to say yes without leaving room to escape.
“I completely understand,” he replied with an easy smile.
She tried to smile back. She didn’t want to lock herself into a marriage with him, but he was undeniably the best of her options.
CHAPTER 18
This goddamn bush.
Nicholas shoved a branch out of the way and ducked beneath a short hedgerow, peering around it as Sophie and Baron Sylvestor returned from their blasted romantic walk to the pond.
He was glad to see that Sophie hadn’t tried to sneak away without a chaperone. God knew if she did that and got caught, they’d be betrothed before nightfall.
As it was, he could tell they were discussing something important. Sophie’s usual smile was absent, and her head was tilted slightly in thought. The baron was holding her arm more firmly than necessary, as if he knew that she might run away the instant he released her.
Did she need to be rescued?
Nicholas was more than willing to storm over there and intervene if that was what she wanted.
If nothing else, it was clear that she didn’t hold the baron in the same esteem as Nicholas because she kept a very polite space between their bodies with the exception of their interlinked arms.
That was cold comfort when she had already said that shewouldn’t stop pursuing the baron for anything less than an offer of marriage.
Of course, she was right to take that stance. She deserved to be properly courted and wooed, and he’d spent the entire time they were gone reminding himself of why he couldn’t do that.
