A Most Unlikely Betrothal by Alice Kirks

Chapter 9

 

 

Sophia sent covert looks at the man beside her. What was he up to? She had expected Richard to turn around and return to the parlour after her last remark, but the man kept talking about the house as though nothing she said could deter him.

 

 

 

“The servants' quarters are down the hall,” said Richard, pointing. “The top floor and this section houses most of the servants, but we have a few who live in their own homes. The same goes for our country estate servants.”

 

 

 

Sophia was actually interested in what Richard was saying, but she didn't want to be; she wanted nothing of or about him to interest her. Fromthe moment that her betrothal to Richard was announced, Sophia had decided that she would never fall for his charms. She had witnessed how foolish women became around him, including her own sister.

 

 

 

Elizabeth was so obsessed with Richard that it had clouded her judgement and turned her against her own sister. How could a man do that? Sophia had watched Elizabeth grow up, for heaven's sake! She knew herbetter than anyone else could and had been with her through every milestone in her life. How had her own sister turned against her despite all they were to each other?

 

 

 

“We only have two chefs in London, but four in the countryside with four kitchens for them to work in,” Richard continued. “It just makes it easier for everyone.”

 

 

 

“Why?” she found herself asking.

 

 

 

"Too many cooks spoil the broth or something to that effect. Each chef deals with specific parts of the meal to avoid confusion. One might deal with fish, another with meat, another with dessert, and another with soup. It makes parties run smoother. Each chef has designated servants to help peel, chop, and whatever else happens in the kitchen. I'm not all that knowledgeable about that section in the house."

 

 

 

Richard moved on, talking about the different rooms and how his mother had named them all according to her favourite authors, which Sophia found charming. Maybe she should start doing that as well.

 

 

 

"My mother wanted to name my room after Shakespeare, but my father put a stop to that. He had an objection to giving the room such a name and begged my mother to reconsider. They couldn't decide on a name, so my room is the only one in the house without one."

 

 

 

Sophia had a few ideas to give his room, but didn't voice them. She wasn't supposed to be interested in what he was saying. Richard offered to introduce her to some of the servants, but Sophia quickly declined.

 

 

 

“Wouldn't it be better if they got to know you now?” he asked.

 

 

 

“Why should it matter?”

 

 

 

Two lines appeared between his eyebrows as his eyes searched hers. “You'll be the mistress of the house one day. It's important for the servants to understand this.”

 

 

 

Sophia understood this, but she wanted Richard to give up on whatever he was doing and let her go.

 

 

 

I do not understand what he has up his sleeve. Surely he must know that I do not wish to be around him? Does he finally feel guilty about landing me in this predicament? I'm not simply going to give in because he is slathering on the charm as though his very life depended on it.

 

 

 

Sophia was tired of fighting and defending herself to everyone and everything just to keep her head afloat. However, she knew that if she gave Richard an inch, he would take her whole arm. She contemplated ignoring him and just continuing with the tour, but Sophia decided that knowing what Richard was up to was more important right now.

 

 

 

“What is going on, Richard?”

 

 

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

 

 

"Do not pretend to not know what I am talking about. What is all of this?" she demanded, waving her hand at him. "Why are you nicer and more understanding than usual?"

 

 

 

Richard tilted his head, his eyes piercing her with their intensity. “I would think that's abundantly obvious, Sophia. And I thank you for calling me Richard.”

 

 

 

She had? Sophia went over her words and found that she had addressed him by his first name. It hadn't been intentional at all.

 

 

 

“That does not matter. I want to know why you're putting on this act. You have never wasted this much charm on me.”

 

 

 

“As I said, I think it's obvious.”

 

 

 

Sophia threw her hands into the air. “Oh, my goodness! Why are you going around in circles? Simply say what you mean to say.”

 

 

 

Richard sighed and rubbed his jaw. Sophia couldn't see any stubble, but she did hear the rasping sound of skin against growing facial hair. She wanted to go up close and run her fingers along the rough part, but she wisely kept away.

 

 

 

"We're going to be married in a matter of months, and we have yet to reach a common ground,” he said. “I'm doing all I can to show you that we do not have to be enemies. I have nothing against you, Sophia. This is a challenging situation that I wish neither of us had to go through, but we have to make the best of our situation."

 

 

 

Pretty words from a pretty man. Sophia still didn't know if Richard was pretty or handsome. Sometimes she thought his features were too feminine to be considered masculine, but he would give a specific look, and Sophia could suddenly see the masculinity in his physical appearance.

 

 

 

He is prettier than me. Mama always said that you should never marry a man prettier than you, but that's precisely what I'm being forced to do. The man has a dimple, for heaven's sake. I always feel like looking up and waiting for the angels to sing whenever he smiles.

 

 

 

Sophia wasn't as immune to Richard as she pretended to be, but she certainly did not like him. He was like an expensive piece of artwork that she could admire in someone else's house, but that artwork could never be hers, and she was fine with that. However, what did one do when the painting was put in a pretty package and given to her free of charge? Run. She should run.

 

 

 

“How long did it take you to rehearse that speech?” she asked.

 

 

 

Richard's jaw clenched and unclenched. “What part of it sounded insincere? Perhaps I can fix it to make it more palatable to you.”

 

 

 

Oh, he was angry, wasn't he? Sophia didn't know if she had ever seen Richard angry. He usually had a ready smile for everyone.

 

 

 

“The truth would be a lovely break from all this false behaviour, my lord.”

 

 

 

"So, we're back to 'my lord', are we? And here I thought that we had made some sort of improvement. How foolish of me! One cannot win against Sophia Emley."

 

 

 

Win? What on earth had he expected to win? “Is this some kind of game to you? A case of winning and losing? Well, it's not to me. This is my life, and I detest that other people have a greater say over it than I do. I would not be in this mess if not for you. Next time, try to think your plans through.”

 

 

 

Richard's smile was crooked as he gave a little snort. “Next time? Have you forgotten that the next person I plan to kiss will be you, my fiancée? We could kiss right now and remove any later awkwardness.”

 

 

 

Sophia gasped. She couldn't help it. “Why would you say something like that? You're not coming anywhere near me!”

 

 

 

Laughing bitterly, Richard turned away and leaned on a console table. “You should see your face, Sophia. You look absolutely horrified at the thought of kissing me again. I do not know why people assume that you trapped me into marriage. You can barely look at me sometimes! I have never had a woman treat me the way you do. It's unheard of.”

 

 

 

Sophia narrowed her eyes. She finally saw Richard's behaviour for what it was. “This is about your pride, isn't it? It's not about reaching common ground and understanding each other, but the old sin of pride. You cannot stand knowing that I'm not falling at your feet like most women do.” Sophia shook her head. “I cannot believe you would go to these lengths to change my opinion of you when you haven't changed one bit. Pathetic.”

 

 

 

Richard whirled around, making her take a quick step back. "Pathetic, you say? Then answer this question for me, Miss Emley. Why didn't you run away when you saw me approaching you? When I took you in my arms and drew you close to me? When I kissed you?" he ended, his voice lowering.

 

 

 

Sophia's cheeks were on fire. She touched her palms to them, wanting to abscond and hide her shame. But no; Sophia was determined not to act like every other foolish girl. Richard was purposefully intimidating her and probably expected her to turn and run, but he had come up against the wrong woman.

 

 

 

Lowering her hands, Sophia looked him dead in the eye. "I believe I told you the explanation behind my actions," she said, making her voice sound as cold as she could. "I was scared. Have you ever been scared before, my lord? I imagine you have at least once in your life. I was so terrified that I couldn't move, no matter how much I wanted to."

 

 

 

Sophia could still recall the stiffness in her body, and underneath it, the adrenaline that had waited to be released.

 

 

 

"Kissing me broke whatever hold had been over me, and I finally felt motion return to my limbs," she said. "I would have run away before you reached me if I hadn't been so frightened. Did you ever stop to wonder how I must have felt watching a dark shadow approach me? You're several inches taller than me, and your shoulder width is likely twice mine. To this day, I am still angry that I couldn't run when I should have, but I simply couldn't. That is the bottom line."

 

 

 

Sophia turned away then and crossed her arms below her bosom. She would never admit it to him, but she still felt some shame at not running away when she should have. Usually, Sophia was quick on her feet and reacted to situations faster, but that night had been an extraordinary one. If she had been as suspicious as Rose's mother, she would have believed an evil spirit had wrapped its invisible arms around her and kept her from moving.

 

 

 

Sophia heard Richard sigh. It wasn't one of irritation, but regret. It was interesting that a person's sigh could say so much about a theirfeelings or what they were thinking. Most people missed the tiny differences in the sound, but Sophia didn't. She had been studying people long enough to pick up those differences.

 

 

 

It was the reason why she turned around now to see if there was any regret written on his face. To her amazement, Richard looked like he was filled with crushing remorse and guilt. Had he finally come to his senses and understood where she was coming from? It seemed he did. The most amazing thing of all was that she felt sorry for him. That was the last thing she had expected to feel for Richard Hatherton.

 

 

 

“I owe you an apology, Sophia,” he finally said, his eyes not quite meeting hers.

 

 

 

An apology for what? He needed to be more specific. Was he sorry for kissing her and thereby ruining her life? Was he sorry about trying to put Elizabeth in a compromising situation? Or was he sorry that they had to lie in the bed that he had made?

 

 

 

“Aren't you going to say anything?” he asked.

 

 

 

"I'm waiting for you to elaborate on what you're apologising for. I believe that an apology cannot act as an umbrella but a pistol. You can only fire at one thing at a time, so you must apologise for one thing at a time."

 

 

 

Richard nodded. “I suppose you're right. I suppose I'm sorry for asking Elizabeth to meet me that night.”

 

 

 

“That's certainly true! Still, she was also to blame for agreeing to it when I expressly told her to not fall for your charms. It seems you had a greater influence on her than her own sister. Isn't that odd, my lord? I love my sister more than you will ever love her, but she was willing to toss that all away over a man.”

 

 

 

Sophia's voice broke a little at the end. Elizabeth's animosity was taking its toll on Sophia, and she had grown tired of it. She struggled to understand how the love of a man could overtake the love of a sister.

 

 

 

“I'm so sorry, Sophia,” Richard said. “I didn't mean to come between you and your sister.”

 

 

 

The man sounded sincere. “I believe you, but unfortunately, we cannot control everything, can we? Getting engaged to you has made me the enemy of most people. I have always known what rejection feels like, but hatred is a recent addition.”

 

 

 

Richard winced and looked away. Why was Sophia telling him all of this anyway? She certainly didn't want Richard's pity, but part of her wanted him to understand that he had caused a lot of damage in her life. She had every right to be angry.

 

 

 

"We're trapped in this engagement because of me," Richard said. Sophia had the feeling he was talking primarily to himself. "I thought my plan was fool proof. How was I to know that someone else was in the garden? It was dark, for heaven's sake! Whoever saw us must have had eyes like a cat or an owl. Were they perched in a tree waiting to catch unsuspecting lovers?"

 

 

 

The thought of seeing one of the busybodies in a tree was enough to make her laugh. Sophia tried to hold it in, but it came out anyway. Richard looked at her, his brow creased with concern.

 

 

 

“What has come over you?” he asked.

 

 

 

Sophia tried to explain it to him, but her laughter got in the way. She finally had to walk a few paces away and compose herself, drying her face with the sleeve of her dress.

 

 

 

“Sophia?” said an uncertain Richard.

 

 

 

"I have not taken leave of my senses if that is what you think. Something you said tickled me pink, and I had to laugh."

 

 

 

“What did I say?”

 

 

 

The man sounded so confused that laughter threatened to bubble out of her again, but Sophia held it in.

 

 

 

"You mentioned that the peeping Tom or Judy could have been hiding in a tree. I had the image in my head, and it amused me."

 

 

 

“You laughed because of that?” he asked, sounding incredulous.

 

 

 

“I do have a sense of humour, my lord. I may be a misfitto most people, but I am sane.”

 

 

 

“I didn't mean to say that you're strange,” Richard quickly said.

 

 

 

“I know. Do not fret, my lord—it's not worth it. I believe that you're sorry about the role you had to play in landing us in this mess. At least we have established that I do not wish to marry you, and you do not want to marry me. However, our mothers are planning our wedding as we speak. We do not seem to have much say over what happens.”

 

 

 

Richard nodded. “Yes, I know. My parents want me to protect your honour.”

 

 

 

“I can protect my own honour, thank you very much.”

 

 

 

The words were out of Sophia's mouth before she could consider her words. How could she have protected her honour? She was just a woman! It was a father, brother, uncle, guardian, or husband's duty to protect a woman's honour. Richard was obviously thinking the same thing because he was staring at her as though he wondered if she really believed her words.

 

 

 

"Do not look at me like that, my lord. I'm well aware that I cannot protect my own honour once it has been tainted. Prevention is better than cure."

 

 

 

“I've never heard anyone put it like that before,” Richard remarked after some time.

 

 

 

“I think I'll say many things that you'll never hear others say,” Sophia told him without a stitch of pride. “Sometimes you have to be different to see things differently.”

 

 

 

“I'll take your word for it.”

 

 

 

“You should. So, I take it that the tour is over?” she asked. “I think we have said everything we wished to say.”

 

 

 

“I do not know if I achieved what I set out to do, but I'm glad we've overcome any misunderstandings.”

 

 

 

What did he set out to do? "What did you want to achieve?"

 

 

 

“To become friends. Do you think we could start all over again? I do not expect us to become great friends, but marriage is inevitable between us, Sophia. We can at least be friendly towards each other. I promise to respect you as my wife and the future mother of my children.”

 

 

 

Sophia pulled her face at the mention of children. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves. The wedding is a big enough hurdle to get over without adding children to the equation. We might even be lucky enough to find a way out of this engagement.”

 

 

 

That was what Sophia wanted more than anything else. She didn't want to marry a man who would never love her and was probably secretly pining away for Elizabeth. She had her pride, after all.

 

 

 

Did Richard love Elizabeth as she loved him, or had she simply been a distraction? Richard appeared remorseful about hurting Elizabeth, but Sophia had not detected any pain at losing someone he loved.

 

 

 

"I think it would take a miracle for that to happen," said Richard. "I have looked for a way out, but I do not see one. If you do, please do not hesitate to inform me."

 

 

 

“With pleasure,” Sophia promised. “Why don't we return to our mothers? They must be wondering what we're up to. We have been gone for some time.”

 

 

 

Richard had taken her all over the house, and they had spent time arguing about their predicament. Sophia hoped they did not assume the worst.

 

 

 

“I agree, but I have one last request.”

 

 

 

“We have already agreed to be friendly towards each other,” she reminded him. “What more can you possibly want?”

 

 

 

"I'd like you to call me Richard. Don't you think it odd that we're all using our first names, yet you refuse to informally address me? We're an engaged couple, Sophia. We may not like each other, but we need to try to live with each other."

 

 

 

Richard's request wasn't outlandish, but he didn't understand why she insisted on addressing him formally. Calling someone by their name removed barriers and made people more familiar with each other. Sophia didn't want to become so familiar with Richard that she would forget that they were never meant to be. She didn't want to grow attached, knowing that he could never love her. However, it did seem odd to refer to him as 'my lord' when they had just agreed to be friendly towards each other.

 

 

 

“Very well, I'll use your first name. I might forget here and there, but I'll make it a point of using it. Satisfied?”

 

 

 

Richard grinned, showing his dimple. “Very. May I escort you back to the parlour? I noticed you did not eat any of the pastries and barely touched your sandwich. Perhaps our arguing and the tour of the house has worked up an appetite.”

 

 

 

Sophia thought about it and found that she was hungry. "A fresh cup of tea and a few pastries would do me well."

 

 

 

“Good. Mother always feels bad when her guests do not eat what has been set out before them. Shall we?”

 

 

 

Richard held out his arm, and this time, Sophia didn't hesitate to take it. She still felt an odd sensation beneath her palms, but she figured that was residue from her earlier discomfort.

 

 

 

Their mothers turned to them as soon as they walked into the room, their faces shining with guilt. What had they been conspiring about?

 

 

 

“Back from your walk?” the Duchess said unnecessarily. “You appear to have enjoyed it. You both have grins on your faces.”

 

 

 

“I enjoyed taking a tour around your home, Your Grace,” Sophia answered. She didn't trust Richard to speak. “Richard gave me a lot of information to digest.”

 

 

 

"He is a wonderful speaker, isn't he?" the woman claimed. "Come, take a seat. We have just ordered a fresh pot of tea, and there is still more than enough pastries to eat through. I might have asked for too much."

 

 

 

“Your hospitality is excellent, Diana,” Sophia's mother complimented. “I could not have organised a better spread. Your chefs must be wonderful.”

 

 

 

“They are,” the Duchess agreed. “You just let me know when you need them to come to your house and prepare dinner for you, and I'll send them.”

 

 

 

Sophia didn't see why her mother would agree to that when they had their own capable cook. Unless her mother was thinking about hosting a dinner party? Sophia wouldn't put it past her.

 

 

 

The woman was keen to show her own hospitality and hosting skills to the Hathertons and would likely do everything in her power to make the night a spectacular one.

 

 

 

Sophia inwardly groaned at just the thought of all the preparations that would take place. The older Emley woman would also insist on Sophia getting a new dress or taking one from Elizabeth's wardrobe. That would earn Sophia her sister's undying hatred; Elizabeth was finicky about her clothes and only allowed three people to handle her laundry.

 

 

 

If their mother took a dress from her and gave it to Sophia, a silent war might break out. Sophia didn't want to deal with any more of those.

 

 

 

“I'll certainly consider that,” Sophia's mother said thoughtfully.

 

 

 

Oh no. Her mother was most certainly thinking about hosting a social event soon. What would Elizabeth say?

 

 

 

Perhaps I can talk her out of it. Mama and Papa do not know that Elizabeth might have been in my shoes right now if not for a ridiculous mix up in the dark. They have hardly noticed the tension between us because they are caught up in wedding arrangements and becoming linked to the Hathertons through me.

 

 

 

It was a formidablething to know that one may be part of such a prestigious family, however Sophia would always live her life knowing that people hated her for marrying Richard. That wasn't a life she wanted to live.