Tobias still could not fathom what sort of man necessitated one daughter to elope and the other to witness it in fearful secrecy. As far as he could tell, Freddy Wynn was a man of good character, with the promise of a steady income and a family who supported his choices. It seemed odd that Mr. Grant could not accept him as a match for Adriana. Sophia certainly did. Mr. Grant must have been some sort of ogre if his daughters could not share the truth of their affections with him. Tobias would have to wrangle an explanation from Sophia, but this was neither the time nor place.
Amid assurances of daily letters, Sophia was bundled into the waiting carriage, exhausted in body and mind. Tobias accompanied her, as promised, though he sensed his presenceno longer held the comfort it might have done when he had given the promise originally.
It was a far cry from their earlier ride of the morning. As the wheels kicked into motion, Sophia sank into the darkest corner of the compartment. She had not uttered a word to him since they’d left the church. Though spring continued to bloom gently outside, and birds made their presence known through song, the interior of the carriage was gloomy and silent.
“Sophia,” Tobias said softly. Then again, “Sophia,” in a firmer tone.
She would not look at him.
“You will have to talk to me sooner or later.”
The shadowed figure remained mute.
“Can we not speak of your father?”
There was no answer.
“This cannot continue. Why do you fear him so?”
“I do not fear him.”
The reply did not invite discussion. Tobias pushed on, carefully.
“Why, then, must we comply with Miss Sangford’s wicked scheme? We have a whole month in which to respond to her demands. In that time, we could speak to your father and explain…”
Sophia shook her head, a whimper escaping from her throat.
“No? You sayno, and yet you will not explain yourself. What am I to make of that, Sophia?”
“I am sorry.”
Tobias huffed a sigh of frustration.
“Look, we are in this together, no matter what. But you have to help me, my darling. Is there nothing that can make it easier to approach your father? If I proved myself in some way? If we had more time? Perhaps, if Miss Sangford could be persuaded to give us another month…”
“It would make no difference,” Sophia said, her voice so quiet, it was scarcely audible. “It is quite impossible to reason with him.”
Tobias threw his hands in the air and sat back. “I confess, I am at a loss. You will neither clarify the problem nor assist in the solution. What am I to make of this, Sophia?”
She released a shaky breath. “I understand. You have done your best. No one can fault you. You deserve better.”
His caution dissolved in an instant. “Oh, no, you don’t!” Tobias leaned forward once more, grasping Sophia’s hand. “You will not withdraw from me again!”
“Release me, Tobias.” She squirmed, trying to free her hand.
“I will not!” He took both her hands instead and pulled them toward him, compelling Sophia to rouse from her refuge.
Her chin lifted and her eyes flew open. “Leave me, Tobias. I am no good for you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“You could have any woman of your choosing. They would be lucky to…”
“I don’t want anybody else. You are far rarer a being than you give yourself credit for. There are too many Miss Dunbars in the world, and not enough Sophia Grants.”
Sophia lowered her eyes again. “Perhaps. But the Miss Dunbars of the world still have their weddings.”
“Much good it will do her husband.” Tobias scoffed. “Though he is probably just like her. Pompous and vain. Good luck to them, I say. I would far rather fight for you.” A happy image bubbled to the surface. “I can see it clearly,” he told her. “Your lovely neck bent over a new poem while my uncle and I savor the contents of his library. The three of us sharing a meal and discussing our favorite Greek philosophers. Private carriage rides whenever we please.” His voice grew husky. “Perhaps, if you feel strong enough, we might even have a babe of our own.”
