Page 134

His heart, however, remained utterly still. There was no longing. Only the urgent need to disentangle her without causing her further distress.

Arthur’s hands shifted to Sophia’s hips, intending to lower her gently back to the floor, but a shoe scraped deliberately against the oak behind them.

He froze.

Sophia's hands vanished from his face at once, dropping hurriedly to his shoulders as though she had realised, a heartbeat too late, the position in which they had been found.

Arthur turned sharply towards the sound, one arm instinctively tightening around Sophia’s waist to steady her while he tried to disentangle himself from her embrace.

Mrs Clapton stood frozen in the doorway. The drawing room door hung wide open behind her.

"I was announcing Her Grace, Your Grace", she began, uncharacteristically hesitant, her eyes darting between Arthur and Sophia before settling somewhere over his shoulder.

Arthur’s blood ran cold, and his gaze followed hers. The doorway beyond stood empty. No dark curls. No curious green eyes. Only the still corridor stretching away from the room.

Mrs Clapton offered a stiff curtsey, murmured something about leaving them to it, and quietly closed the drawing room door behind her.

The click of the latch echoed through the silence.

Arthur looked down at Sophia still standing before him and slowly loosened his hold, allowing his hands to fall from her waist as she steadied herself upon the floor.

"Sophia. You know I..." He stopped, drawing a slow breath as his thoughts scattered in every direction at once. The words would not come. His mind raced too quickly to form anything coherent, every thought scattering before he could give it voice. There was room for only one person in his mind.

Eliza.

Every instinct within him urged him towards the staircase, towards his wife, towards explaining what she had witnessed before hurt had hardened into certainty.

But Sophia stood before him, frightened, vulnerable, and carrying a child. She knew about his father. She knew the promises he had made himself as a boy whilst watching his mother’s quiet humiliation. She knew why he had sworn never to keep a mistress, never to ask a woman to endure the indignity his mother had suffered, never to become the sort of man his father had been.

How could she ask this of him?

And yet could he truly refuse the woman he had failed once before? Had she not suffered enough for his mistakes? Neither question offered an answer he could comfortably live with.

"Please," Sophia whispered, her composure beginning to fracture. "Just think about it."

Her hand drifted instinctively to her stomach once more.

"And please don't tell anyone." Her voice trembled.

Arthur's eyes followed the movement of her hand. He knew only too well what society would make of an expectant widow whose child could not possibly belong to her late husband. Reputation was a fragile thing for any woman. For one in Sophia's position, it could be utterly destroyed. His jaw tightened.

He gave the smallest of nods. The promise escaped him automatically.

"I need to go." His voice remained distracted, his attention already somewhere else entirely. "Please wait here. Ellis will see that you're looked after."

He didn’t wait for her reply before turning towards the door. As it closed behind him, he broke into a hurried stride. Each step towards the family apartments was burdened by a fear he had not known.

He stood outside the door to his wife's bedchamber, his hand lingering upon the brass handle for only the briefest of moments before he knocked, the sound carrying a note of urgency entirely unlike him.

Receiving no answer, he slowly pushed the door open.

His eyes searched the room immediately.

Eliza sat before her dressing table, her arms folded upon its polished surface, her head buried within them. The gentle rise and fall of her shoulders, interrupted every few moments by an involuntary shudder, told him everything he needed to know before she had even looked at him.

She was crying. The sight rooted him to the threshold, and he could feel his throat tighten.

"Eliza..."