The edges of the room blurred around his uncle. He’d had at least four snifters of brandy and nothing to eat. But that was fine. Timmons would bring him something later.
“Impotence,” Damon informed him. “Is valid grounds for an annulment. Given your love of spirits and opium, it should be easy to cast doubt on whether you can perform your husbandly duties. We’ll say it was a recent development, given you’ve had…” He looked at Alexander. “Nearly every woman in London.”
“Not every.”
“Even Canterbell wouldn’t want to doom his daughter to such a future, one without the hope for children. Lady Sophia will be pitied, but not a pariah. Her reputation will remain intact, if not a tad tarnished. It may even increase her appeal.”
“Doubtful,” Alexander murmured, not bothering to open his eyes as his uncle’s footsteps came closer.
“But youcannotbed her, Alexander, underanycircumstances. Don’t even touch her hand unless it is necessary. There can be no questions of your inability to consummate the marriage.”
“Don’t worry, Uncle. I wouldn’t bed that chit if she was the last woman in all of England.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
Alexander’s mind started to drift as his uncle continued pacing about and speaking in a hushed tone to himself. Four glasses of brandy hadn’t managed to blot out Lord Canterbell and that self-righteous little twit, but at least Damon had found a solution.
I never touched her.
“Maybe I won’t need to worry over an annulment.” Damon’svoice sounded very far away. “Not with your inability to sit a horse. You’ve never managed it properly, no matter how I had you instructed as a child. Though now, that’s more the fault of the spirits you consume. Such an excessive amount.” Damon made a tsking sound with his tongue.
“I might fall into the Thames again, Uncle. Plop.” Alexander made a sound while raising his hand, then dropped it. “Right into the water. You were so angry with Oakhurst.”
“Yes, he apologized profusely for not…watching you closer. You nearly drowned. I was quite upset with him.”
The room grew quiet save for the ticking of the clock before his uncle spoke once more. “No touching Canterbell’s daughter. If you got her with child, we wouldn’t be able to gain the annulment. Promise me.”
“No touching. I promise, Uncle. I won’t muck things up again.”
“Good.” The clink of the brandy glass settling on the table reached his ears. “I’ll see myself out, Your Grace.”
Chapter Five
“Leave your motherto me,” Papa insisted as Sophia exited the carriage before the Canterbell home. “I’ll explain everything to her.”
Sophia didn’t protest. She wanted nothing more than to go straight to her room and hide from the rest of the world while contemplating how best to avoid wedding the worst duke in London.
Avoiding Mama was in everyone’s best interests.
“Yes, Papa.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she waved as her father’s carriage sped off towards Wellington and Sons to draw up the marriage contract.
Her stomach tightened once more. Tea and scones were in order.
Sophia handed her cloak to one of the footmen standing by the door, trying not to feel so completely hopeless. She’d prayed, fervently before climbing into her bed last night, that upon waking she would find that Roxboro, the Perswick ball, and most of all her own stupid behavior would be nothing more than a bad dream. A hallucination, perhaps, brought on by indulging in champagne.
Today had proven her wrong.
Cautiously, Sophia made her way in the direction of the stairs, admonishing the footman not to make a sound. If she were lucky, Mama was out…shopping.
Oh, no. She wouldn’t. Not with the gossip circulating.
Or taking a nap. Strolling about the garden. Perhaps devising amore robust list of disappointments to hurl at Sophia. Her foot touched the bottom step and Sophia lifted her skirts, ready to sprint up the stairs.
“Sophia. Come here this instant.”
Drat.
Maybe she could pretend she hadn’t heard. She held her breath.
