Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She would not give him that satisfaction. She would not let him see how deeply his cruelty had cut.
The music swelled to its conclusion. Drakeston released her with a flourish, bowing as though they had shared a pleasant dance.
“Thank you, my lady. Until we meet again.”
Sophia curtsied. Her hands trembled. Her skin crawled where he had touched her.
She turned and walked off the dance floor, her pace just short of running. She needed air. She needed space. She needed to be anywhere but here.
She slipped through a side door and into the quiet darkness of the corridor beyond.
“Your Grace. Might we speak privately?”
Miss Stanton stood before Edward, her expression composed, her hands folded at her waist. The ball swirled around them, but she seemed untouched by it, a still point in the chaos.
“Of course.” Edward offered his arm and led her toward a quiet alcove near the windows. The night air drifted in, cool and welcome.
“I wished to discuss our understanding.” Miss Stanton’s voice was measured, careful. “We have spent considerable time together this weekend. I believe we suit each other well.”
“I agree.” Edward kept his voice neutral. “You’re accomplished, intelligent, and well-suited to the demands of the position.”
Miss Stanton smiled. “You speak of marriage as though it were a business arrangement.”
“Is it not?” Edward met her gaze. “We both know what is at stake. Legacy. Duty. The continuation of the Heatherwell line. These are practical matters that require practical solutions.”
“I appreciate your candor.” Miss Stanton inclined her head. “It is refreshing to speak plainly.”
Edward straightened. “There is one matter I wish to be clear about. My nephew, Oliver. Any wife of mine must be prepared to care for him as though he were her own child. His welfare is of paramount importance to me.”
Miss Stanton nodded. “Of course. The boy requires guidance and stability. I am prepared to provide both.”
Something in Edward’s chest eased.
Perhaps this could work after all. Perhaps Miss Stanton, with her practical nature and clear understanding of duty, could provide Oliver with the stable home he needed.
“However.” Miss Stanton’s voice remained pleasant. “I do think it important that we discuss the future honestly. Once we are married and have children of our own, your primary duty will be to our sons. To the heir of Heatherwell.”
Edward frowned. “Oliver will always be part of this family.”
Miss Stanton waved a hand. “Naturally. But surely, you understand that certain adjustments will need to be made. Anephew, however beloved, cannot take precedence over one’s own children. It would be confusing for everyone involved.”
“What sort of adjustments?” Edward’s voice had gone cold.
Miss Stanton smiled, as if explaining something simple to a child. “Nothing dramatic. Perhaps he might be sent to the country estate. Or to stay with other relatives. Somewhere he can receive proper attention without complicating the household hierarchy. Once you have an heir, your duty will be to that child first and foremost. Oliver will understand. Children are remarkably adaptable.”
Edward stared at her. The pleasant mask he had worn all evening cracked and fell away. He thought of Oliver’s small hand reaching for his. Of the boy’s tentative smile when Edward agreed to paint purple horses. Of the way he had begun, just barely, to trust.
Send him away.
As if he were an inconvenience. As if Leonard’s son were a problem to be solved rather than a child to be loved.
“Miss Stanton.” His voice emerged quietly, which was somehow worse than shouting. “I believe I have been operating under a grave misunderstanding regarding your character.”
CHAPTER 23
“Just breathe,” Sophia whispered the words to herself, pressing her palms flat against the cool wallpaper.
The music room lay dark and quiet around her, lit only by moonlight streaming through tall windows. A pianoforte sat in the corner, its keys gleaming silver in the darkness. Sheet music lay scattered across a stand. Heavy velvet curtains framed the windows, muffling the world outside.
