“What were you thinking?” she whispered. “Lord Finchley accompanied me here. He had plans to purchase the painting.”
Isaac looked handsome in his brown jacket, his hair holding a slight wave, falling softly over his forehead. She should not have been noticing such details, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart leaped at the intensity of his gaze. “He could have bid higher if he wanted to.”
Sophia scowled. “You were making a scene. He bowed out gracefully.”
“I knew he would.”
A surge of anger made her breath hitch. “You don’t know anything about him. You have met him twice.”
“I know that you don’t love him.”
Sophia’s mouth snapped closed. Her face flamed. “You may try all you’d like to sabotage our courtship, but it won’t work.”
He gave a subtle shake of his head. “I’m not trying to sabotage it.”
“Is there a more delicate word you’d like to use, then? Disruption? Impairment?” She could feel the heat from her anger spreading up her neck. She kept her gaze forward, hoping that her face was hidden from anyone who might be observing their interaction.
“What I did today could be seen as a disruption, I suppose.” Isaac turned to face her more fully, obviously not caring about the onlookers. “But sabotage…that would involve a more extensive strategy.”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Well, I would ask that you not engage in such strategies in the future. Especially not in public,” she hissed.
“Of course not.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t dare use this particular strategy in public.” His gaze was on her lips, and impossibly, her face burned hotter. She would have expected to see a teasing smile, but he was entirely serious.
Is that all he thought it would take? One kiss and she would be at his disposal, even after he had cast her aside so effortlessly before? He hadn’t even apologized or acknowledged what he had done. They had agreed not to speak of the past, but the past was speaking for them. It was thriving, pulsating in the air like a living heart. But Sophia was not as weak as she once was. If Isaac didn’t realize that yet, then she would make certain he no longer had any doubt.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were stopped by a hand on her arm. She turned, her anger simmering down at the sight of Lord Finchley. He seemed to notice the tension between them, a deep furrow in his brow as his gaze flickeredfrom Isaac to Sophia. “Mr. Ellington, my congratulations.” His voice lacked any expression. “I’m afraid I must steal Miss Hale. The carriage is waiting.”
A muscle jumped in Isaac’s jaw, and he lowered his gaze to the floor. Sophia held tight to Lord Finchley’s arm as they walked away. The street was drenched with rain when they stepped outside. Large droplets still fell from the sky, soaking through her hair and leaving her curls limp.
In the carriage, Aunt Hester removed her spectacles, wiping the raindrops on her skirts. “That Mr. Ellington is quite persistent.”
Lord Finchley slid into his seat across from Sophia. The carriage door rattled closed. He hardly said a word the entire drive home, staring out the window with a heated scowl.
When the carriage finally came to a halt, Lord Finchley stepped down from the edge and helped Aunt Hester out first. Sophia made to climb out after her, but Lord Finchley blocked the way. “Please excuse us for a moment, Mrs. Liddle.”
Sophia dropped into her seat in surprise as Lord Finchley stepped back into the carriage and closed the door behind him. He breathed deeply through his nose, a sheen of moisture on his forehead as he stared across the seat at Sophia. He blinked rapidly, shifting his gaze to the floor. She had seen him anxious before, but never this discomposed.
“My lord—” Sophia’s heart pounded fast.
“Miss Hale.” His icy blue eyes snapped up to her face. “I have been awaiting the perfect opportunity to speak with you alone. I think this moment is as good as any.” He leaned forward, snatching her hand with both of his. “I have been putting off this question, primarily because of my own resistance to the idea of marriage. However, as you know, I have been considering the possibility of making you my wife. I’m not certain what has compelled me to ask you at this very moment. Perhaps it is therain, or being alone together in this carriage, but it has awakened a sense of urgency within me that I can no longer ignore.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before regarding her seriously. “Dear Miss Hale, will you marry me?”
Chapter Sixteen
The question hung heavy in the air, coiling around Sophia until she struggled to breathe. Lord Finchley’s eyes were wild with anticipation, and his grip on her fingers was starting to hurt.
Panic gripped her muscles, and her voice refused to give him an answer. She hadn’t expected him to ask so soon, and certainly not so abruptly. The nature of his proposal was cold, unromantic, and it made her stomach ill. Isaac’s display at the auction must have cut Lord Finchley deeply enough to lead him to this rash decision. This seemed to be his way of retaliating.
“You seem to be acting in haste, my lord,” Sophia choked out.
He shook his head fast. “No—I assure you, I have been thinking to do this for quite some time. I have been hesitant over a few minor details, but those are truly unimportant when compared to the many strengths of character that you possess.”
Sophia frowned. What minor details about her had caused his hesitation? Knowing how long Lord Finchley had waited to select a wife, he must have been quite particular. But his choice of words made her feel like he had chosen to settle for her. “Minor details?”
He waved a hand through the air. “It is no matter. I have chosen you to be my wife, if you will have me.”
The urgent tone of his voice gave her a similar feeling of aversion to when she had seen him cross his legs and curl into a ball on the picnic blanket. Her head swam, and the humidity in the carriage was making her feel faint.
