“And Edward? Does he miss his brother?”
The question caught her off guard. “I believe so, but he doesn’t speak of him.”
Something flickered across Hugo’s face. “Edward rarely speaks of anything that matters. It is both his greatest strength and his greatest flaw.”
Sophia considered this as they turned through the final measures of the waltz. She thought of the way Edward’s jaw tightened whenever Oliver mentioned his parents. The careful blankness that descended over his features when anyone ventured too close to anything resembling emotion.
Hugo was right. Edward had built fortress walls around everything that mattered, and she suspected he had been doing it for so long that he no longer remembered how to tear them down.
The dance ended. The dancers stilled. Hugo raised Sophia’s hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her gloved knuckles.
“Thank you for the dance, Lady Sophia. It was a genuine pleasure.”
Before she could respond, a hand clamped onto Hugo’s shoulder.
“A word.”
Edward stood behind them, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing. He did not wait for Hugo’s agreement. He steered his friend away from the dance floor with the determination of a man herding a wayward sheep.
Sophia watched them go, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Edward pulled Hugo into a quiet alcove, his grip tight enough to wrinkle the fine wool of his friend’s coat.
“What the devil do you think you are doing?”
Hugo straightened his lapels with exaggerated care. “Dancing. It is a ball, Edward. That is what one does at balls.”
“With Lady Sophia.”
“Yes, with Lady Sophia.” Hugo raised an eyebrow. “She is a guest. She was standing alone. I was being kind.”
“You kissed her hand.”
“A perfectly appropriate gesture at the conclusion of a dance.”
Edward’s voice dropped to a growl. “You lingered. You cannot dance and flirt with Sophia.”
Hugo smirked with satisfaction. “Sophia, is it?”
Edward’s jaw tightened. He had not meant to use her Christian name. It had slipped out, as natural as breathing.
“Lady Sophia.” He corrected himself. “You cannot?—”
“Why not?” Hugo tilted his head, his eyes sharp despite his casual tone. “You’re not supposed to care, are you? She is merely helping you find a wife. Nothing more. That was the arrangement, was it not?”
Edward stared at his oldest friend. The words tangled in his throat. He could not say what he wanted to say, because saying it would mean admitting things he was not ready to admit.
“You did this on purpose.” The realization dawned. “You danced with her to provoke me.”
Hugo’s smile returned, insufferably smug. “Did I? And did it work?”
Edward groaned. He ran a hand through his hair, destroying whatever order his valet had achieved earlier. “You are very meddlesome.”
“I prefer charmingly unconventional.” Hugo clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, if you will excuse me, I believe Miss Ashworth promised me a quadrille. Do try not to glare holes through anyone else tonight.”
He sauntered off, leaving Edward standing in the alcove, his thoughts in disarray.
“Your Grace?”
