A Most Unlikely Betrothal by Alice Kirks

Chapter 15

 

 

The walk back to Aunt Caroline's carriage was a mix between wanting to smile and not wanting to smile. Sophia didn't know which was worse.

 

 

 

"Did you enjoy your walk, dear?" her aunt asked. "Or, should I say sit-down?"

 

 

 

“Both were good, Aunt Caroline, but I think I preferred the sitting part.”

 

 

 

“I would enjoy the sitting part as well if I were seated next to such a lovely looking man,” the older woman remarked. “I cannot recall if your uncle was that handsome. Mind you, I didn't marry him for his looks but his title.”

 

 

 

“Aunt Caroline!” Sophia admonished, but Rose only laughed.

 

 

 

“This is precisely why I like you, Lady Smethwick,” said Rose. “Your honesty is a breath of fresh air. The right type of honesty, mind you. Not the sort that people go about stating as truth but is just the dribble of the world.”

 

 

 

“Why do you think I keep you around?” the Viscountess asked her. “You're good for my ego.”

 

 

 

Everyone laughed, which was a great relief for Sophia because she needed an outlet for the emotions swirling within her. She was so…elated, and she didn't know if her feet were actually touching the ground. Who would have thought that time spent in Richard's company would feel so exhilarating?

 

 

 

Sophia wanted to twirl around, sing with the birds, kiss a baby, pick a flower and put it into her hair, and a whole lot of other things that gleeful people do.There was a little part of her that warned her not to get caught up in fleeting emotions—but she didn't want to listen to that voicetoday.

 

 

 

"Why don't we go to my house first?" her aunt suggested. "It's closer, and we can have tea and something light to eat. I'm certain your mothers will not mind since you are with me."

 

 

 

Sophia and Rose readily agreed, not wanting to go to their respective homes just yet. Rose naturally wanted to avoid her mother because the Frenchwoman had not ceased talking about Nicholas. Sophia felt sorry for her, but she did wonder if her friend had any feelings towards the man. Rose certainly spoke highly of him.

 

 

 

Sophia's reasons for staying out longer were obvious. Elizabeth had continued to be friendly, but it was strained, as though she were acting. Sophia could not forget her sister's expressionwhen they had locked eyes at the dinner party. They had played on her mind until she had driven herself to paint something that was terribly beautiful and unlike her at all.

 

 

 

The painting was currently hidden away in her room because she was afraid of showing it to anyone. How would Sophia explain it? The artwork depicted a man who resembled the Adonis statue she had once come across. He was holding a woman whose face was hidden while his hand stretched towards a magnificent beauty who appeared to rise out of the fire wearing nothing but flames as her covering.

 

 

 

The fire-woman was beckoning to the man, her sultry mouth parted as though singing a song for him to come closer, beckoning the man to burn with her. The man's face seemed eager to go, but his body also appeared to be desperately holding the woman in his arms. Sophia didn't want to know what it meant to her.

 

 

 

Avoiding Elizabeth was the only way for Sophia to have a moment to herself. Since the wedding had been announced as being only three weeks away, their mother had become something of a monster for details. Nothing was too small or big to worry about, including Sophia's beauty regime.

 

 

 

The Emley matriarch insisted that Sophia take on Elizabeth's beauty rituals to prepare for her wedding day, and she could no longer wear anything considered too plain. That meant a purge of her wardrobe and a team of seamstresses to create her new style and trousseau.

 

 

 

Richard's mother had insisted on helping with the new wardrobe as well, including purchasing jewellery and other accessories. Sophia knew that her sister was jealous, but Elizabeth was careful not to show it. Only a person who knew her well could pick up on the slight changes in her voice and eyes.

 

 

 

“I'm excited about your wedding, dear,” her aunt said once they were safely cloistered inside the carriage. “It has been a long time since I've attended the wedding of someone I like.”

 

 

 

“Why attend weddings of people you do not like?” asked Rose.

 

 

 

"Because I am the Viscountess of Emmerdale and a wealthy woman by any account. Who wouldn't want me at their wedding? And I do find it challenging to say no at times. I may not like a person, but I certainly do not wish to make them an enemy by snubbing their invitation."

 

 

 

"I do not think I would want to be a titled woman," Rose remarked. "The responsibility is more than I can handle. However, our Sophia will soon become the Countess of Brittingham, and eventually a Duchess. It is curious, but I think you'll do very well, Soph. You have that regal air about you."

 

 

 

Sophia rolled her eyes and snorted. "By regal, do you mean cold? An ice queen?"

 

 

 

Those were the names the ton had given her, and they were much nicer than the ones her peers bestowed upon her.

 

 

 

“No. Regal like a queen,” Rose insisted. “I do not think Elizabeth would have fit the role well. It's a good thing Richard kissed you instead, but I still haven't decided if I like him.”

 

 

 

“Rose!” Sophia scolded, darting eyes at her aunt.

 

 

 

The older woman looked faintly amused, but she wasn't shocked. "I must say I agree with Rose, dear. Your sister would not have been a good fit for the Hatherton family. I should know as I have been acquainted with them for many years. And I do not believe in coincidences, but fate. Richard was meant to kiss you."

 

 

 

Had they both gone completely mad? The kiss had simply been a terrible misunderstanding, not some fated act.

 

 

 

“Your notions are far too romantic for comfort,” Sophia told them. “Promise me neither of you will talk like this in front of others—I do not need any more rumours with my name attached to them.”

 

 

 

“Noted, although that will not stop the rumours, dear,” her aunt said. “Better the rumours you know than the ones you don't.”

 

 

 

That didn't make sense to Sophia. She was still trying to figure out what on earth her aunt had said when they pulled up in front of the woman's home.

 

 

 

“We're here, my lovelies,” the Viscountess announced. “And none too soon. I was about to faint from serious hunger pangs.”

 

 

 

They were helped out of the carriage by a footman who chatted with the Viscountess as though they were great friends. Sophia's aunt seemingly had that relationship on everyone, rich or poor.

 

 

 

To Sophia's left was the entrance into the very garden where ithad all started. It felt so long ago, but only weeks had passed since the incident. Never could she have imagined that one crazy moment would lead to a wedding mere weeks later. Sophia never believed she would ever get married, and now she was engaged to Richard Hatherton, of all people.Whenwould she wake up from her dream?

 

 

 

“Leave your parasols at the door, dears,” her aunt said. “Go ahead to my private parlour while I freshen up a bit. I'll meet you there in a moment or two.”

 

 

 

The girls walked arm-in-arm to the oriental-themed room, excited to see what new additions Aunt Caroline had made to the room. The woman was obsessed with the Far Eastand had redecorated her parlour to resemble a Qingemperor's private quarters.

 

 

 

The first thing one noticed when they walked inside was the colour explosion. There wasn't a dull area to be seen; from the throne of carved dragons with inserts of jade and gold to the texts housed behind glass and porcelain tea sets dotted about the place…it was all rather magical.

 

 

 

"Your aunt is the worthiest of people to know," Rose breathed. "Look at those vases! And that massive dragon on the wall. Wouldn't that give one nightmares?"

 

 

 

“Aunt Caroline is the nightmare in the best possible way,” said Sophia. “Nothing scares her.”

 

 

 

“I suppose you're right. Where does she get all these things? I cannot imagine any English person making any of these pieces.”

 

 

 

Sophia had a feeling her aunt had bought many of the items from the very merchant that had sold the screen to her father, but she didn't say as much. It wouldn't do to accuse one's relative of having anything to do with a known criminal.

 

 

 

“I imagine they were imported,” she informed her friend. “They look too authentic to be something made in this country. I cannot wait to see what she does next with this room, but for now, we'll enjoy the beauty of the Forbidden City.”

 

 

 

“Forbidden City? Why call it that?”

 

 

 

“The rooms reminds me of the splendour one would likely find in the Forbidden City. It's the imperial palace of several dynastic emperors.”

 

 

 

Rose shook her head. “I keep forgetting that you are a walking book of information. Come, let's sit and you can tell me about your time with Richard. I have been dying to ask you, but I didn't want to do so in front of your aunt.”

 

 

 

Sophia was grateful for that. While she loved her aunt, the woman could be a bit much at times.

 

 

 

“I think we have ample time to talk about it,” said Sophia. “Aunt Caroline usually takes her time.”

 

 

 

They both curled up on the same couch, their feet tucked under them as they faced each other.

 

 

 

“So…did you enjoy your time with the handsome Earl?”

 

 

 

Sophia couldn't help her smile. “I suppose so.”

 

 

 

"There is no supposing, Soph. You either did, or you did not. Which is it? Although, judging from your face, I would say it was a lovely time indeed. Is he forgiven for the other evening?"

 

 

 

Sophia didn't want to be reminded of that night. It had been hurtful, and not an evening she wanted to repeat.

 

 

 

"I do not wish to recall much of that night, but I will say that I was comfortable with Richard today. He put me at ease, and somehow, he encouraged me to talk more than I usually would. It was an odd, but good, experience."

 

 

 

It had been better than good, but there was no reason to give the moment an overly glowing review. No one needed to know everything she was thinking.

 

 

 

“Based on today, do you still feel the same way about our Earl?” Rose asked. “I know you did not like him at all, but he seems to have influenced you otherwise.”

 

 

 

Sophia laid her head on the couch as she thought about her feelings for Richard. What could she say? The man was confusing her. Her opinion of him had been constant for some time, but he was showing a different side that made her question who he really was.

 

 

 

“Richard keeps surprising me,” she finally admitted. “I always assumed he was shallow, vain, selfish, rude—”

 

 

 

"Get to the good adjectives, or we'll be here all day," Rose interrupted, laughing.

 

 

 

“I do not know if they are just as long,” Sophia said, grinning.

 

 

 

“Either way, I wish to hear what you think about him now.”

 

 

 

Sophia gnawed on her bottom lip as she put her thoughts into order. "Well," she began. "He is attentive, and he's a good listener. It's not easy to put me at ease, but he manages it. You know that I'm not a person who reveals herself, yet Richard pushed himself past those boundaries and somehow encouraged me to tell him things that I would never share with a person like him."

 

 

 

“Perhaps he is hiding his true self from the world,” Rose suggested.

 

 

 

Why would Richard do that? He had everything he could possibly want and didn't need the approval of others—he was the one they sought approval from. Why hide himself?

 

 

 

“If that is true, he has done a splendid job of hiding it,” said Sophia.

 

 

 

Rose shifted, bringing her feet forward and sitting cross-legged. “What did you talk about?”

 

 

 

“He asked me about my favourite things, and I asked him about his childhood.”

 

 

 

“He must be courting you,” Rose insisted.

 

 

 

Courting her? Sophia doubted it. Richard had admitted to wanting to get to know her for the sake of making their marriage work, but she still had her doubts about that.

 

 

 

"I do not think of it a courtship but a necessity to know the stranger you will marry."

 

 

 

“The man walked with you in an area where everyone can see you,” Rose reminded her. “He was making it known that he is not ashamed of you, or that is what I believe. I still do not fully trust him, but I would be foolish to ignore that he is making an effort. Most men in his position wouldn't do such a thing.”

 

 

 

Rose was right. Most men would have run away or have tried anything to avoid marrying her. Richard had accepted it and didn't even seem angry about it. Was she still angry?

 

 

 

I do not know. I feel I should be, because everyone still believes that I trapped Richard and stole my sister's true love—but speaking with him today seems to have made everything easier to bear. I do not know how I will feel once I return home and look into Elizabeth's eyes, but I feel at ease for the moment.

 

 

 

Sophia wondered about her upcoming wedding and the married life she would have as Rose continued to vocalise her opinion of Richard. Perhaps getting married to him would not be such a terrible thing; not if Richard continued to show this new side of him.

 

 

 

Aunt Caroline came in a little later, ending their conversation but earning their amazement at her colourful attire.

 

 

 

“Do you like it?” she asked them, twirling around.

 

 

 

Sophia couldn't tell if her aunt was wearing a gown or a dress that wasn't quite complete, but whatever it was, it was beautiful.

 

 

 

“Well…” said Rose, seemingly at a loss for words.

 

 

 

"It's astounding, Aunt Caroline," Sophia finished for her. "What on earth is it, and where did you get it?"

 

 

 

The Viscountess beamed before throwing herself onto the couch like the histrionic she was.

 

 

 

"It's just a little something I saw in a book, and I had my seamstress make it. It's called a kimono, but I chose to change it in the front, so it falls open and reveals the dress underneath."

 

 

 

Sophia and Rose left their seats to admire the creation closely, tracing the design of peonies, chrysanthemums, wisteria and fans with their fingers.

 

 

 

“The material is beautiful, my lady,” said Rose. “What is it?”

 

 

 

“Damask silk and metallic threads. I had my seamstress dye the silk with safflower to produce the reddish-orange colour, but I also have a blue and purple one in my armoire. I doubt anyone has something like this in their wardrobe.”

 

 

 

Sophia could believe that. Not everyone was as eccentric as Aunt Caroline, but she was certainly someone to look up to.

 

 

 

“I wonder if Mama would let me have something like this,” Sophia wondered aloud.

 

 

 

“If I gift one to you, she will simply have to accept it, wouldn't she?” said the Viscountess.

 

 

 

“Oh, I could never take one from you,” Sophia protested. “It's far too lovely.”

 

 

 

“Nonsense, dear. Think of it as an early wedding gift. I'll have the blue one folded and boxed up for you to take home today. Just make sure that your sister does not try to talk it into her hands.”

 

 

 

Feeling pleased and thankful, Sophia promised her aunt that she would do just that. They all sat down to tea soon after, and even that was a lavish affair. The Viscountess was not someone who believed in mediocrity, and that belief was slowly rubbing off on Sophia. She would likely never be as flamboyant as her aunt, but that did not mean she could not show more of her creative side to the rest of the world. Richard seemed to like it, didn't he?

 

 

 

It does not matter what he likes! Do not make yourself a sitting duck for disappointment, Sophia Emley.

 

 

 

Rose and Sophia were disappointed when they had to leave, but it was rather late, and their mothers would begin to fuss. They said their goodbyes to the Viscountess, chattering gaily in the carriage as it returned them to their homes. Rose was first to get off, leaving Sophia to travelthe rest of the journeyhome alone. It was then that her happiness started to go downhill.

 

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

 

Sophia slowly walked up the front steps to the door, dreading what she might encounter once she entered the house. She might be overthinking it all, but she couldn't help the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

 

 

 

Rubbing her belly, she opened the door and found no one around. That was unusual.Typically Mallory would be marching through the hallway, but perhaps Sophia had come when the butler was having his tea in the kitchen. Should she let her parents know that she had arrived?

 

 

 

“I would be foolish not to,” she told herself.

 

 

 

That decided, she looked in the likeliest place for Mr and Mrs Emley, finding them in the drawing-room.

 

 

 

“Hello, dear!” her mother greeted cheerfully. “You have finally returned. How was your day?”

 

 

 

“Lovely, thank you. I need to freshen up before dinner, so I'll tell you about it when I come back.”

 

 

 

“Of course,” her mother said. “You must be tired after all that walking. Perhaps you should have a little nap as dinner will be a little late this evening. Cook had a mishap with the stove.”

 

 

 

Sophia wondered what mishap that was but didn't want to ask just yet. She really wanted some time to herself before indulging her family.

 

 

 

I wonder where Elizabeth is?

 

 

 

Sophia didn't have to wonder for much longer, for her sister met her at the top of the stairs and all but pounced on her.

 

 

 

“Sophia!” she cried, taking herarm. “I wondered when you would be back. Let's go to your room so you can tell me all about your day.”

 

 

 

“I wish to have a rest and then refresh myself for dinner, Lizzy. Can we talk about it later?”

 

 

 

"No. I simply must hear about it now, or I will burst with curiosity. Surely you can rest afterwards?"

 

 

 

Sophia wanted to insist, but she could see the mood her sister was in. Elizabeth looked a little crazed, almost as though her entire day had been spent thinking about Sophia coming back and talking about her day. It was a bit frightening.

 

 

 

“Very well, but give me a moment to catch my breath,” Sophia asked. “I do feel tired.”

 

 

 

“You can catch your breath on the bed.”

 

 

 

Sophia frowned, not liking how demanding Elizabeth was. Even the grip around her arm seemed too tight, and no matter how she tried to gently pull away, Elizabeth would simply hold on tighter.

 

 

 

Do not be alarmed. This is just Elizabeth. Perhaps she is excited for me and cannot contain herself.

 

 

 

Sophia doubted it even as she thought it.

 

 

 

Elizabeth was the one who pushed open Sophia's door, not caring that it banged againstthe wall and shut behind them from the force of the younger woman's hand. Sophia found herself led to the bed and sat down before her sister took a seat beside her and looked at her expectantly.

 

 

 

“Tell me about your walk with Richard,” she commanded.

 

 

 

Sophia thought about lying, but she decided that her sister deserved to know the truth.

 

 

 

"It went well, thank you. Richard was kind, and we had a good conversation about our lives. He thought it was a good idea to get to know each other before we're married.”

 

 

 

“Indeed? What else? Were you alone with him the whole time?”

 

 

 

“Most of the time, yes,” Sophia replied. “We sat beneath a tree while Rose and Aunt Caroline walked somewhere ahead of us.”

 

 

 

It was then that Sophia remembered she had left her aunt's gift in the carriage. She almost groaned out loud but knew her sister would want to know why. Sophia didn't want to mention the gift just yet.

 

 

 

“That sounds…nice,” Elizabeth said, smiling broadly; her eyes, however, remained unmoved. “I remember sitting with Richard beneath a tree. It was a lovely time.”

 

 

 

“I'm sure it was. He is a good listener.”

 

 

 

“The best!” Elizabeth exclaimed, and then her facial expression unexpectedly fell to reveal a dejected woman. “I cannot explain how much I miss him, Saffi,” she sniffed. “There isn't a day that I do not cry from my heartbroken state. How I wish I was in your shoes. I would have loved to have been the one to marry Richard.”

 

 

 

Sophia didn't know what to say. It was an awkwardthing to be the one marrying the man her sister claimed to love. What was a woman to do in such a quagmire?

 

 

 

“I feel I must tell you something, Saffi,” her sister continued, still sniffing although there were no tears. “I feel terrible about it.”

 

 

 

“What is it?” Sophia asked, her heart in her mouth.

 

 

 

"Richard asked me to meet him in the garden on the night of the dinner party. I went because I love him so much, but I knew that it was wrong in the back of my head. He is marrying you, after all! Do you understand that I couldn't say no?"

 

 

 

Sophia knew that her sister was lying, but she nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

 

 

 

Elizabeth smiled, her lips trembling slightly. “I knew you would. Well, Richard was quite emotional when I went to see him. He confessed that he loves me still and…and feels terrible that he has to marry you instead. I'm so sorry, Saffi.”

 

 

 

Sophia was sorry as well—sorry that she had let herself believe Richard would give up his love for Elizabeth. He had said he would never cheat on her, but what would he call this? They were engaged, yet he had secretly met with her sister and confessed his love to her.

 

 

 

“I'm also sorry, Lizzy,” Sophia said softly. “Sorrier than you can ever imagine.”