The countess’s eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks. Her gaze flicked from Nicholas to Sophie, who’d scrambled off the edge of the desk and was trying to scoot away from him.
“What on earth is going on here?” she demanded, her voice even louder than usual.
Good God, didn’t the woman know that times like this called for discretion?
Lady Somerset sauntered in behind her, grinning evilly, obviously pleased with herself. “I should think that’s obvious.”
Nicholas stared at her, the pieces of the puzzle slotting into place. She’d somehow known he was here, and she’d arranged to have Lady Wembley find them.
But why?
Purely out of spite?
She had to know that this would be forcing his hand and that even if he hadn’t already intended to, he’d now have no option but to marry Sophie.
Or perhaps she, like Baron Sylvestor, believed Nicholas would abandon her to the vultures and would no longer be allowed anywhere near her.
Fuck.
His mother was going to hear about this.
Theo would too.
They’d be furious with him.
But it was too late for regrets now. They’d simply have to make the best of the situation they’d found themselves in.
Nicholas reached for Sophie’s hand. She met his eyes, and he silently willed her to trust him. A moment later, she laid her hand in his, and he raised it to his lips and kissed the gloved back of it.
“Ladies, please offer my beautiful fiancée your congratulations. I have asked her to marry me, and she has graciously accepted.”
Lady Somerset scoffed, an absolutely vitriolic look crossing her face. “You’re betrothed? I don’t believe it.”
“Why not?” Sophie asked, apparently finding her voice. “Mr. Blackwell has been courting me for quite some time. I’m very fond of him, and I look forward to being his wife.”
“B-but….” Lady Somerset shook her head. “Mr. Blackwell always said he wouldn’t marry.”
He winced. Yes, he had told her that, but that had been when he’d believed her to be widowed. Considering she wasn’t, it wasn’t as if he could marry her anyway. She was already someone else’s wife.
But he supposed this would bruise her ego nonetheless.
“Things have changed.” He pulled Sophie closer. “Lady Sophie and I intend to wed soon after returning to London.”
That wasn’t quite true, but it would buy them a little time to figure out their next steps.
Lady Wembley sighed. “The baron will be quite disappointed, but I’m happy for the both of you. Have you informed Lady Carlisle?”
“Not yet,” he said. “We’ve only just come to an agreement between ourselves.”
“Then I suppose the most important thing is to rectify that.” Lady Wembley turned to Lady Somerset. “Please fetch Lady Carlisle.” She narrowed her eyes. “And be discreet. Don’t think I’m unaware of your machinations here today.”
When she left, Nicholas’s shoulders relaxed, and he sensed Sophie letting out a breath beside him.
“Thank you for being so reasonable,” Sophie said. “Some people would cause a scene simply for the fun of it.”
Lady Wembley swept a loose lock of hair off her face. “There will be gossip regardless. I daresay we’ll have something of a scandal on our hands—Lady Somerset will make sure of it. But Mary is a good friend, and she endured enough scorn at the hands of thetonwhen Violet jilted Lord Ashford. Anything I can do to ease the situation now, I will.”
Nicholas bowed to her awkwardly because he was still holding Sophie’s hand. “We appreciate that.”
