She tilted her head. “It’s Barton, isn’t it?” He nodded, and she continued, “You seem troubled, Barton. Is there something I can do?”
“It is only that Mr. Sinclair stepped out on business for an hour and his…his…”
Before he could finish, the door to a parlor at the end of the hall opened and a round, angry-looking man appeared. Sophie took a step back in surprise. It was Rowan’s eldest brother, the Earl of Terrington, who stepped into view.
“Damn you, Barton, where is the bloody tea?” He moved a few steps down the hall and suddenly stopped when his beady eyes found Sophie standing with the servant. “Well, well…if it isn’t little brother’s lady love.”
She pushed her shoulders back and took a step up the hall. “Lady Sophie,” she said, holding out her hand even though she didn’t want this odious man who had only brought Rowan pain to touch her. “I understand you are waiting for Rowan’s return.”
His face pinched. “We are, my dear. Barton, bring the damned tea. Lady Sophie, why don’t you join me? I’m sure my brother Keaton and I would love to get to know you better.”
Sophie glanced at Barton. He did not look pleased. Slowly, she nodded. “Very well. I would like to wait for Rowan regardless, and I suppose since we will be family soon, it would be very pleasant to get to know you.”
He offered an arm, which she pretended not to see as they walked up the hall together and back into the parlor where the earl had come from. She entered cautiously and looked around. Another man, slightly less portly than his elder brother, stood at the fireplace, staring up at the portrait of Rowan, his mother, and his father. There was a forlorn look to the other man. Almost pained.
“Look what I found, Keaton,” Terrington drawled as he stepped toward his middle brother. “Rowan’s new fiancé, Lady Sophie.”
Keaton jolted and turned to her with a scowl. “Sinclair,” he barked out with a slight lift of his hand for a greeting.
Sophie pressed her lips together. So much for the warm family welcome. These men were as dreadful as she’d always heard told.
“I am happy to find you here,” she lied. “After all, we will soon be…family.”
Terrington snorted. “Such as it is.”
She ignored the barb as a maid appeared in the doorway with a service. She set it on the sideboard, and Sophie smiled as she said, “I’ll pour. Don’t trouble yourself.”
The girl bobbed out a curtsey and left the room with a concerned glance at the two men. Sophie drew a long breath and began to pour the tea.
“How do you like it?” she asked the earl first.
He glared at her. “Sweet. Three sugars. No milk.”
She did the preparation and turned over his cup before she put her attention on Mr. Sinclair. “And for you?”
“With a splash of whiskey,” he muttered. “But just milk will do.”
She frowned as she prepared his cup, then did the same for herself. When she had taken a seat, the two men did the same facing her from the settee in what could only be called an icy silence.
She shifted with discomfort, trying desperately to find a topic that would be appropriate. “I am sorry about the death of your father,” she said.
The men exchanged a look, and Terrington barked out a laugh. “I’m certain you are.”
She drew back. He was being purposefully rude, and a great part of her wanted to give him the same in return. If anyone had ever deserved a set down...but she thought of Rowan and bit her tongue.
“It’s been a fine Season,” she tried instead. “Have you been to any interesting balls or parties?”
“None,” Keaton Sinclair growled as he took a sip of tea.
She sighed. “I am trying to be polite. Is there any topic of conversation that would tempt you to do the same while we wait for Rowan’s return?”
Terrington tilted his head as he set his teacup aside. She shifted beneath the weight of that stare. It was focused and hard and had a cruel bent to it. She didn’t like it. She wanted to be free of it. And she pitied Rowan for having to endure it all these years. Their contempt for the man she loved was palpable.
“I have a topic I would very much like to broach, actually, since you are here and we are being forced to wait.”
She swallowed but lifted her chin to face his nastiness with all the calm and collected sophistication she had been taught by her aunt. “And what is that, my lord?”
“Are you aware you are being married for your money, or are you too stupid to see that my brother is using you?”
