Page 46

Balston House Library Gallery

12 October 1810

Sophronie glanced up from the book she’d been reading as Larissa climbed the narrow staircase to the gallery. The small balcony had become a favored place for reading, thinking, and occasionally napping.

Her sister-in-law looked especially pretty in one of her new morning gowns, a fern green and burgundy frock that flattered her coloring. She’d woven a burgundy ribbon through her curls and looked as fetching as Sophronie had ever seen her.

That might be on account of their new neighbors’ very eligible and very handsome son who had called to introduce himself three weeks ago and who’d visited several times since.

“I thought I might find ye here,” Larissa said, perching on the arm of Sophronie’s chair. “What are ye readin’?”

Smiling, Sophronie tapped a page of the open book in her lap. “Castle Rackrent. I am taking a break from animal husbandry books.”

“I should think so.” Larissa scrunched her nose. “I mean, the act is quite basic. Evan doesna think we ken anythin’ about his horse breedin’, but we’re no’ blind.”

Sir Peppermint, curled on the nearby couch, opened an eye. Evidently deciding nothing of import was happening, he closed his eye and resumed his nap.

“You look exceptionally lovely this morning, Larissa.”

Larissa blushed and smoothed her hands down the front of the gown. “I only finished it yesterday.”

“Well, it’s most becoming.” Sophronie made a mental note of the page then closed her novel. “I confess, I envy you your talent. I’m sorely lacking when it comes to sewing.”

That was the case for most feminine pursuits, truth to tell.

“We missed ye at breakfast this mornin’, Roni.” Larissa would bite her tongue off before prying, but everyone knew things were strained between Sophronie and Evan.

“I had a tray in my chamber quite early, then took a brisk walk to see the foals,” Sophronie said. She’d done so often these past weeks and frequently took dinner in her chamber too. Her feelings for Evan had taken an unexpected turn, and if she spent too much time with him, she feared she’d never want to leave.

Then where would she be?

A woman hopelessly in love with the man who’d only married her for her money.

Larissa merely nodded and didn’t pry.

Homesickness like none Sophronie had ever known while Papa was alive assailed her, and many were the nights she, who disdained weepy females, cried herself to sleep. She missed Cinnamon more and more each day. If she’d had any inkling that she’d be away from Virginia for so long, she’d have brought the mare with her. As it was, she didn’t know when she’d next see her beloved horse.

Rather than behave like a man whose wife was intent on leaving him, Evan was wooing her, she’d vow. He’d even asked her opinion regarding several horse breeding and estate matters.

Not that she would permit herself to be lulled into the snare Evan was setting. She’d trusted him once. To do so again made her a numbskull. Never mind that her fickle heart thumped irregularly each time she saw him and that he grew impossibly more handsome too.

She found herself listening for his distinctive footfall or his melodic brogue.

When he smiled at her, half the time every thought in her head flew away while a warm sensation like sweet, rich hot chocolate infused every pore.

Evan was frustratingly polite and irritatingly kind but utterly uncompromising. She recalled when she’d broached the annulment last month. “I am yer husband, like it or no’, and I am responsible for yer wellbein’. I willna allow ye to do somethin’ impulsive and rash that ye will later regret, lass.”

She’d already done that when she agreed to Papa’s dying wish and married the Scottish scoundrel, now her husband. Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she touched the fabric of Larissa’s gown.

“Are you expecting company today?”

Her cheeks turning pink, Larissa nodded. “We’re havin’ guests for luncheon.”

If Sophronie had taken on her duties as duchess as she would’ve done if she’d intended to remain, she’d have known guests were expected. Part of her rebellion against Evan’s dictates was to refuse to assume the role and responsibilities of his duchess. Yes, it was petty, but there was no need to act like Evan’s wife when she fully intended to pursue an annulment.

Didn’t she?

Of course she did.