Page 47

Then why hadn’t she broached the subject in weeks now?

Evan seemed to know exactly what she was about and humored her. Not once had he reprimanded her on her dereliction of duty or suggested she ought to do more to help. Which, perversely, irritated her all the more.

Why, she was on the verge of becoming a veritable shrew.

Naturally, Anna was confused and curious about Sophronie’s reluctance, but she hadn’t pressed the issue.

“When ye are ready, dear, ye’ve only to tell me. I ken it is a lot to take in, marryin’ so suddenly. Ye’re still grievin’ too.”

Sophronie was, but her frustration toward Evan helped to buffer the pain of her father’s passing.

As much as she wanted to paint Evan the ogre, he was proving himself otherwise. He’d permitted his womenfolk a few new gowns and other essentials, but to Sophronie’s surprise, had limited their purchases. Not one of his female relatives had complained about his budget constraints.

He certainly could afford to buy entirely new wardrobes for all of them now, from their undergarments to pelisses and wraps and fallalls and fripperies. His frugalness was admirable, and it also chafed at Sophronie’s conscience. His decency made her feel as if she were being unfair to him.

Unfair to him? She scoffed inwardly. Hardly.

He was the one who’d benefited from their union. Not her. Neither of them could deny that judicious slice of truth.

Why would a man who’d acquired a fortune be such a pinch-penny?

It made no sense.

Larissa pulled a small cloth-covered box wrapped in a bright yellow ribbon from her pocket. “Joyous birthday to ye, Sophronie.”

Sophronie exhaled as she looked at the gift.

“How did you know?” she whispered, touched at Larissa’s kindness.

“Evan told us.”

“Oh.” The marriage certificate had included their dates of birth. He’d noticed hers, but she hadn’t his. That knowledge made her feel petulant and selfish.

“When is his birthday?”

Larissa gave her an odd look. “Next month. The twenty-first.”

“I shall have to make a note of it.”

“We always have a grand dinner party.” Larissa giggled and rolled her eyes. “Evan’s quite fond of his birthday celebration. He always makes certain our birthdays are memorable too.”

“How thoughtful of him.” Sophronie didn’t trust herself to say more and chance ruining Larissa’s kind gesture. She unwrapped the box then removed the lid. Inside lay a needlepoint bookmark with a kitten’s face, strongly resembling Sir Peppermint.

“Oh, Larissa.” Emotion clogged her throat.

“It’s supposed to be Sir Peppermint, but I couldn’t quite get his cheeks right.”

“It’s a wonderful likeness.” Sophronie touched the kitten with her forefinger. “Thank you.” She hugged her sister-in-law. “I always wanted sisters. I’m so glad I have them now.”

Mayhap not for much longer. The thought brought a stab of pain to her heart.

If only Evan had loved her, then she’d have better understood the deal he made with Papa. She wouldn’t have liked it, but she’d not live with perpetual doubt about his motives.

“Come, a new filly arrived early this mornin’.” Larissa stood and grasped Sophronie’s hand. “I ken ye’d want to see her.”

“I do wish to, of course.” She set the novel aside. “Let me fetch a wrap, and I’ll meet you in the foyer. It’s noticeably cooler today.”

“Aye, Evan says we may have an early snow,” Larissa said, her eyes glowing with anticipation. “Then there’ll be sleddin’, skatin’, and gallons of hot mulled wine and cider.”

An early snow would hamper Sophronie’s newly devised plans to leave without the annulment she sought.