“Dragons cannot eat princesses!” Rosie declared, scrambling behind a settee. “It is against the rules!”
“There are no rules for dragons!” Oliver roared.
Sophia watched from her chair by the window, a cup of tea cooling in her hands. The children’s laughter filled the room, bright and uncomplicated, and she tried to let it soothe the ache that had taken up residence in her chest.
It didn’t work.
Alice settled beside her, her sharp eyes missing nothing. “You look terrible.”
“Thank you.” Sophia managed a thin smile. “Your honesty is, as always, refreshing.”
“I am serious.” Alice lowered her voice. “You have shadows under your eyes. You have barely touched your tea. And you keep staring at Oliver like he is the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.” She paused. “What happened?”
Sophia watched Oliver catch Nancy and swing her in a circle, both of them giggling. “Edward and I… we are not speaking.”
“Not speaking?” Alice’s brows drew together. “But you were so happy. At the Ashworth ball, the two of you could barely keep your eyes off each other.”
“That was before.” Sophia’s throat tightened. “Before Oliver got lost in the park. Before Edward decided that caring for me was too dangerous.”
Alice was quiet for a moment. Her hand found Sophia’s and squeezed.
“Men are idiots.”
Sophia laughed despite herself, the sound catching on a sob. “Yes. They are.”
“He will come around.” Alice’s voice carried quiet certainty. “Thomas told me that Hugo is beside himself. Apparently, Edward has been drinking and fighting and generally behaving like a man who has lost everything that matters.” She squeezed Sophia’s hand again. “That does not sound like a man who does not care.”
Sophia said nothing. She watched Oliver release Nancy and bow with exaggerated formality, announcing that the dragon had spared the princesses in exchange for biscuits.
She wished she could believe Alice was right.
Two nights later, Sophia lay in bed, staring at the canopy above her.
Sleep would not come. It had become her nightly companion, this restless wakefulness, her mind circling the same thoughts until she was dizzy with them. Edward’s face when he told her it was a mistake. The cold distance in his eyes. The silence that stretched between them like an ocean.
She threw back the covers and rose. If she could not sleep, she could at least be useful.
The hackney waited in its usual spot, the duke’s driver drowsing on the box. He startled awake when she approached and helpedher inside without comment. They had made this journey often enough that no explanation was required.
Mr. Colborne’s office was warm and cluttered, the familiar scent of ink and parchment wrapping around her as she entered. He looked up from his desk, and surprise flickered across his weathered features.
“Your Grace.” He rose and bowed. “I did not expect you tonight.”
“I could not sleep.” Sophia settled into her usual chair. “I thought I might review the correspondence. You mentioned a new client?”
Mr. Colborne studied her for a long moment. Then he shuffled through the papers on his desk and produced a thick packet.
“Mr. Geoffrey Ashford.” He handed her the file. “Second son of a baronet. Modest income but excellent prospects. He is seeking a wife of good character and a gentle disposition.”
Sophia opened the packet and read. The words blurred before her eyes. She turned pages without absorbing their contents, her mind drifting to places she did not want it to go.
A hand settled over hers, stilling the restless shuffling of papers.
“Your Grace.” Mr. Colborne’s voice was gentle. “What troubles you?”
Sophia looked up. His eyes held the same patient kindness she relied on over three years of partnership. No judgment. No expectation. Just quiet concern.
The walls she had built over the last few weeks crumbled.
