Sophia turned, finding her aunt’s lips pursed in a knowing smile. “What do you mean?”
“You are in love with Mr. Ellington. And he is very much in love with you.”
Sophia felt her face growing warmer. She was grateful for the darkness to hide behind. She considered denying it, but how could she? Even her aunt, who was half-blind had seen it. There was a reason Lord Finchley had felt so threatened by Isaac. Perhaps he had seen it too.
“If you marry Lord Finchley, you will regret it for the rest of your life.” Aunt Hester gave Sophia a stern look. “You may have thought that an earl was a better choice, but I assure you, no amount of wealth or status can create happiness.”
“I didn’t know you weren’t in favor of the match.” Sophia had never heard Aunt Hester’s true opinion on the subject before. Why had she withheld it?
“I thought it was what you wanted. But I have seen the way you look at Mr. Ellington.”
Sophia fell silent. Lord Finchley had never been what she wanted. She had only chosen him because she had believed that Isaac didn’t truly want her. She recalled her conversation with Miss Baker on her garden walk with Prudence. Was that what Isaac had been trying to do by courting Miss Baker? She had never considered it that way before, but then again, she hadn’t had a reason to until she learned the truth about the letters.
But who had written them? The question still bothered her. Who would be so cruel?
An answer flickered through her mind. She hadn’t dared to consider the most obvious possibility. Even now, her mind shushed the idea. Her stomach sank with dread, but she refused to acknowledge the thought again.
A few minutes later, a carriage appeared in the distance, and Sophia followed Aunt Hester down to the muddy road. Isaac’s carriage was smaller than theirs, but the three of them managed to fit, despite Isaac’s long legs.
His knees brushed against Sophia’s as the carriage rolled forward. She met his gaze in the dark, her heart skipping all over again. How did he manage to do that? She had so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she could already feel Aunt Hester’s gaze on the side of her face. Apparently, there was a ‘certain manner’ in which Sophia looked at Isaac, and ithad already been exposed. She didn’t want to give her aunt any further evidence.
At the posting house, the horses were changed, but the road was still soaked with rain. Continuing the journey in such conditions was inadvisable, but fortunately Isaac’s coachman couldn’t refuse a hearty bit of oil in his palm. He pocketed Isaac’s coins and set off on the road toward Cornwall. With hers and Aunt Hester’s carriage left to be repaired, they barely managed to fit their trunks on the back of Isaac’s. What remained of their journey would be taken together. Day in and day out.
Sophia was in deep trouble. She had engaged herself to the wrong man, and now the right one—or who she hoped was the right one—would be sitting across from her for the next several days. There was no escaping him, nor her feelings.
It only took a few minutes for Aunt Hester to fall asleep. Her light snores were the only sound besides the light patter of rain that still continued on the windows. Finally, Isaac’s voice broke the silence.
“I’ve been thinking about the other night. In Finchley’s study.”
Sophia’s heart pattered quicker than the rain. “As have I. It’s difficult to comprehend.” Now that the door was open, her questions came pouring out. “Who could have written the letters? Who could have wanted to keep us apart so badly?” Her voice cracked in her effort to keep it quiet. Aunt Hester stirred, but another snore confirmed that she was still asleep.
Isaac’s features were nearly invisible in the darkness. He seemed afraid to answer.
Afraid to accuse.
“Was your grandfather opposed to me?” Sophia asked in a quiet voice.
Isaac shook his head. “My grandfather suffered a fall the night I last saw you. His injuries caused him to die two dayslater. That was what delayed my proposal. When I came to Lanveneth, I was clearly too late.”
Sophia pulled her blanket up closer to her chin. The dread she felt was growing more intense. She couldn’t hold still. She hadn’t known that Isaac’s grandfather’s death had occurred while she was still in Cornwall.
He had suffered that loss all alone.
She hadn’t questioned Papa’s counsel when he had told her to take Isaac’s letter and leave. Papa had convinced her that speaking to him would be improper. She had been told to accept Isaac’s rejection with grace.
She recalled the panic in Papa’s eyes when she had tried to flee his study to find Isaac at Morvoren.
She could still feel his grip on her arm.
“My father?” she whispered.
Isaac was silent for a long moment. “He is the only one who knew that we planned to marry. He must have had a reason, but I don’t know what it could have been. When I spoke to him the day before, he gave me permission to marry you.”
It didn’t make sense. Papa had known how much Sophia loved Isaac. He had given his permission. Then what had changed his mind?
She had felt him grow distant from her after their family had left Cornwall. After seeing how devastated Sophia was, had his guilt driven him away? Or was she placing false blame on him?
Her heart ached. How could she ever know? He had been gone for two years.
