A Most Unlikely Betrothal by Alice Kirks

Chapter 16

 

 

Richard's fingers drummed the oak armrests under his fingers, his eyes restless as they travelled from the door to his mother, and back again. The Duchess appeared blissful as she stitched an intricate rose design, even humming an unknown tune under her breath.

 

 

 

“What time did you give them, Mother?” he asked.

 

 

 

The Duchess paused, her graceful hand poised in the air, a long, pink thread trailing from the needle she held between her index and thumb.

 

 

 

“Two o'clock, son. Did I not mention this before?”

 

 

 

She had, but Richard needed to hear her confirmation once again. “Oh, yes,” he replied. “So you did. It's quarter to two right now-- do you suppose they are running late?”

 

 

 

His mother observed him for several seconds, her head slightly tilted. Could she see his excitement? Richard had worked at not making it too obvious, but perhaps he didn't have it under control.

 

 

 

"The polite thing would be to give us fifteen minutes after the agreed time to allow any last-minute preparations," his mother explained. "That gives them another half an hour to arrive."

 

 

 

Richard inwardly groaned. That seemed like a long time to wait. “I see. Is everything ready?”

 

 

 

Two faint lines quickly appeared between his mother's brows.

 

 

 

"Why, of course, dear!” she said, sounding affronted. “You know that I never sit until everything is ready. The Emleys need only arrive, and then we can have our tea and discuss the wedding. I'm excited to see Sophia again. I barely saw her at the dinner party."

 

 

 

Richard's face grew hot as he recalled what had transpired at the party. The otherwise good evening had been clouded by his little meeting in the garden with Elizabeth. The woman had confessed some things that had left him unsettled, but what had truly disturbed Richard was her insistence that Sophia was to blame for their predicament.

 

 

 

“You'll have ample time to speak with her today,” Richard assured his mother. “But I ask you not to overwhelm her. Sophia is not a social butterfly like most women tend to be and prefers quieter company."

 

 

 

A half-smile lifted one side of the Duchess's lips. "Oh? Do you now know her so well? I didn't realise you had grown so close."

 

 

 

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Mother,” Richard replied hastily. “'Tis only right that I know something about the woman I shall soon marry, but that does not mean we are suddenly the best of friends.”

 

 

 

“I didn't say best friends, son. Perhaps there is more to it than that.”

 

 

 

Richard narrowed his eyes at his mother. What was she hinting at? The woman's smile grew into a large the-cat-that-got-the-cream grin as though she were a matchmaker watching her little puppets fall in love. Had she forgotten that this betrothal had come about through a scandal?

 

 

 

“What can there be?” he asked. “Do not start imagining some great love story, Mother. I know you have a romantic spirit, but I assure you this is not one of those situations.”

 

 

 

“Why not? You and Sophia looked rather cosy at the Emleys' dinner table—happy, even. I have never seen you smile or laugh so much at other dinner parties.”

 

 

 

Richard had to agree with his mother, but that didn't mean he and Sophia were falling in love. They were simply coming to an agreement and an amicable one at that. It was certainly better than being enemies!

 

 

 

“She is an amusing woman once you get through her frosty exterior,” he said thoughtfully. “Most people assume that is her disposition, but 'tis more like an armour.”

 

 

 

Sophia was a warm person under her feigned indifference and viper-quicktongue, and deserved to be treated better. Richard wished more people would give themselves the opportunity to get to know her without their prejudices clouding their perception. He still had to put in a bit of elbow grease to witness her softer side, but it was well worth the effort once he did.

 

 

 

Their day at Hyde Park had turned out better than Richard had hoped. Who would have thought that one day he would sit beside Sophia and carry on a conversation he wished had never ended? Certainly not him!

 

 

 

“And I assume you have broken through her armour?” his mother asked.

 

 

 

Had he broken through, or had she allowed him to slip past? Something told him it was the latter.

 

 

 

“Sophia is strong enough to keep her armour in place, Mother,” was Richard’s reply. “I suppose I had to show that I was worthy of seeing her true self. I doubt anyone but her family and closest friend have seen it.”

 

 

 

“You said friend—does she not have friends?”

 

 

 

It sounded pitiful to admit to having just one friend, but having several friends was not necessarily a good thing. Richard had recently learnt that after discovering Marcus and Philip's true natures.

 

 

 

“Do you really need more than one?” he countered.

 

 

 

“Most would say yes. It shows your likeability.”

 

 

 

“But it seems people only like you if you have something they want, or if you look a certain way. What sort of foundation is that?”

 

 

 

Richard was a wealthy earl, and a handsome one at that. That had instantly made him a likeable fellow and popular with people. However, if that was the prerequisite for all friendships, it was no wonder that people like Sophia were ostracised.

 

 

 

“People of similar backgrounds, status, or physical appearance tend to stick together,” his mother argued. “Perhaps your looks and wealth attract them, but I'm certain 'tis your disposition that keeps them. That is the way with most friendships.”

 

 

 

“Judging a book by its cover,” Richard muttered with a roll of his eyes.

 

 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

 

 

“Nothing.” He got to his feet. “I need something stronger while we wait, Mother. Tea will not suffice.”

 

 

 

“I think it sweet that you're nervous to see your fiancée, son.”

 

 

 

Richard paused, his brows drawing together to form a deep frown. “I did not say I was nervous.”

 

 

 

“'Tis evident by your behaviour!” his mother insisted, chuckling. “I never thought I would see the day that my son feels uncertain about himself around a woman.”

 

 

 

“Mother!” Richard protested. “Do not make this into something it isn't. I'm simply getting a drink because I would like one. May I get you something?”

 

 

 

The Duchess' laughter died away, but her smile remained. “I have no need of anything stronger than tea, son. I am not the one waiting for my betrothed.”

 

 

 

Richard didn't bother arguing-- it wasn't worth it. Instead, he shook his head and left the room. Women! Always looking for a romantic angle to everything. Richard wasn't nervous, just a little anxious. Why couldn't his mother…Groaning, Richard hung his head and sighed. Nervous and anxious meant the same thing.

 

 

 

“Why am I so nervous?” he muttered to himself.

 

 

 

Richard couldn't quite put his finger on the reason, but it undoubtedly had to do with Sophia. No, he was lying to himself. All of it had to do with Sophia, and he might as well admit that.

 

 

 

Shaking his head (he had a feeling he would be doing a lot of that in the days to come), Richard carried on to his study and stayed there—someone would just have to call him once the Emleys arrived. By then, he hoped he had his emotions under control.

 

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

 

Richard didn't need to be called after all—he had kept watch at his window and spotted the Emley carriage approaching from afar, which had prompted him to rush downstairs after a brief look over in his mirror. He entered the parlour with a little more dignity; there was no need to show his mother that he had run down the stairs because he was relieved Sophia was finally here.

 

 

 

“You look much improved after the drink, son,” his mother commented. “The Emleys will never know that you spent the better part of the day feeling nervous.”

 

 

 

“Will you stop that narrative, Mother?” Richard implored her. “I am not nervous, nor was I ever nervous.  I resent that comment.”

 

 

 

The Duchess fell silent, but her expression said it all. She was delighted and truly believed that something was brewing between him and Sophia.

 

 

 

I know more about Sophia, and I truly enjoy her company, but to insist on anything else is ridiculous.

 

 

 

Richard didn't bother telling his mother that the Emleys would be at their door any second now. That would suggest that he had been keeping watch, which would give his mother more ammunition to use against him.

 

 

 

When a servant finally came to announce the Emleys' arrival, the Duchess immediately looked suspiciously at Richard, but he ensured that all she could see was a calm and collected man.

 

 

 

“Isn't that wonderful, son?” she asked. “Sophia is finally here.”

 

 

 

“I suppose so,” he replied quite lazily. “Although they are a bit late.”

 

 

 

"'Tis only half-past two. Shall we meet them at the front door?"

 

 

 

“I'm sure Cavendish will see them through, Mother,” Richard replied. “We hardly need to leave the room just to welcome them.”

 

 

 

A puzzled expression stole over the woman's features. He wasn't acting how she had assumed he would, and now she probably doubted her earlier opinion of him. Richard almost grinned. That would work in his favour because he wouldn't put it past his mother to embarrass him by telling the Emleys how nervous he was about their arrival.

 

 

 

“Yes, of course,” the Duchess said. “Cavendish can let them in. I wonder if Elizabeth is with them? I did extend the invitation to her as well. It wouldn't be right to leave Sophia's own sister behind.”

 

 

 

Richard coughed, choking on his own saliva. “You invited Elizabeth?”

 

 

 

“Yes, dear. Why? Is there something wrong?”

 

 

 

Yes! There was plenty wrong with inviting the very woman who claimed to hate her sister because he was marrying her. How was he going to put up with her?

 

 

 

“No,” Richard eventually said. “I'm merely surprised.”

 

 

 

“Why? She is Sophia's sister, and your soon-to-be sister-in-law. It's good to include her.”

 

 

 

Richard inwardly groaned at the reminder. Elizabeth would soon become a permanent fixture in his life, she wouldn't be someone he could just ignore if he grew tired of her. Would he have to deal with her supposed love for him and her hate for her sister for the rest of his life? Heaven help him.

 

 

 

"I'm not disputing that," Richard assured. "I only thought she might be busy with other social events since this is her first Season."

 

 

 

“Oh, I see. Well, we'll know if she's here in a moment. Perhaps she decided this was more important.”

 

 

 

Richard hoped otherwise. The afternoon would be considerably better without the bitter woman. It wasn't that he disliked her, but her recent behaviour had left much to be desired.

 

 

 

I never thought I would find myself stuck between two sisters.

 

 

 

Not that Sophia would consider him stuck. She was willing to give him a way out, but that would entail disappointing his parents and the possible loss of his fortune. Worst of all would be Sophia's ruined reputation. This betrothal may not have made her likeable, but it had given back her respectability. Richard didn't want to be the one to take it away.

 

 

 

Richard stood up as Cavendish announced Mrs Emley and her daughters. The matriarch was first to enter, followed by Elizabeth, who looked radiant as ever. One would think she was the one getting married! Finally, Sophia trailed behind her sister, her head down. Why did she look so forlorn?

 

 

 

“How lovely to see you again, Patricia!” the Duchess greeted warmly. “And you, Elizabeth. You look lovely in that dress.”

 

 

 

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Elizabeth replied, dipping in a curtsy.

 

 

 

Richard was glad when his mother made a point of going to Sophia and enveloping her in an embrace. It was the first time the woman had done that, and it had clearly shocked Sophia. The younger woman stood still in the Duchess's arms, her luminous eyes wide with surprise.

 

 

 

“I'm glad to see you, dear,” the Duchess said. “The bit of green in your dress looks lovely against your complexion. Come, have a seat next to me.”

 

 

 

Distracted by the warm scene, Richard mumbled a greeting to Mrs Emley and Elizabeth, nearly missing the young woman's livid expression. He gave Elizabeth a second glance, frowning at her, but the woman had already schooled her features into a soft and inviting smile. The sudden change was disconcerting.

 

 

 

“How nice of you to invite us again, Diane,” said Mrs Emley once they were settled.

 

 

 

"I thought it imperative to meet again," the Duchess responded. "The wedding is mere weeks away, and there is much to discuss."

 

 

 

“Oh, yes!” Mrs Emley readily agreed. “I have thought of nothing else. My poor Sophia is rather rundown with all the fittings and preparations for married life, but Elizabeth has been sterling support. My daughters are extremely close to each other, you see.”

 

 

 

The Duchess smiled, handing Mrs Emley her tea. “Oh, how lovely. I love to hear about sisters with great affection for each other. That often isn't the case. Rivalry can make siblings bitter enemies, but Sophia and Elizabeth seem to share a lovely sister bond.”

 

 

 

Richard wanted to snort and set the record straight, but that wouldn't do Sophia any good. His fiancée currently held a cup of tea in her hand, but she wasn't drinking it. Rather, she was staring at it as though it held the answers to her life’s questions. She had barely acknowledged him when he had greeted her, and had not looked once in his direction despite sitting near enough to him to do so without detection. What was wrong? Why was she so distant?

 

 

 

Did we not make headway at the Park? I was sure we had come to an understanding.

 

 

 

That certainty was slowly ebbing away. On the other hand, Elizabeth kept up a conversation with him and the older women, her gay chatter filling the room and drawing attention away from her sister's silence.

 

 

 

“The wedding will have to be at our chapel,” the Duchess insisted. “All the people in the Hatherton family have married there.”

 

 

 

Mrs Emley didn't look pleased, but she nodded. "Very well. I insist the wedding breakfast be at our residence. My husband and I wish to give Sophia and Richard a lovely send-off."

 

 

 

The pair argued about that for several minutes while Elizabeth continued to speak to him as though nothing was amiss. There was actually a huge pulsing problem in the room, and it was beginning to bother him. Richard just wanted Sophia to say something to him, and he needed their parents to stop their ongoing discussion about the wedding. He had had enough.

 

 

 

“Did you hear that Marcus wishes to have a riding party soon?” Elizabeth asked him. “It's just the sort of excitement we need to make the most of our summer.”

 

 

 

The last thing Richard wanted was another party with people who had proven themselves unworthy of the friendship label. However, he saw the topic as an opportunity to engage Sophia and used it.

 

 

 

“Will you be going?” he asked her.

 

 

 

Sophia spared him a brief glance that warmed his cheeks. Yes, it was a stupid question. Marcus would never invite her.

 

 

 

Fool. You'll drive her away faster than you'll draw her to you.

 

 

 

“Sophia doesn't like such activities,” said Elizabeth. “They bore her, although 'tis her disposition that is mundane.”

 

 

 

Richard stilled. Elizabeth had spoken low enough that only he and Sophia had been privy to the comment, but he almost wished their mothers had heard the ugly words coming from the young woman's mouth.

 

 

 

Turning to Sophia, Richard's heart squeezed at how pale she had become and how hard her hands were gripping the cup. She wasn't going to defend herself, and Richard didn't know if standing up for her would worsen the relationship between the sisters.

 

 

 

Goodness, but this tension was suffocating! Just as he was about to get up and excuse himself, Sophia rose to her feet.

 

 

 

“Would you please excuse me?” she said, her voice surprisingly normal. “I feel the need for a little air.”

 

 

 

“Of course, dear,” the Duchess assured. “You go ahead and get some air.”

 

 

 

Sophia gave a weak smile and put her cup down, her hands shaking ever so slightly. She avoided everyone's eyes as she left the room, taking her floral scent with her. Richard didn't stop looking even when Sophia had disappeared from view. He wanted to go after her, to know if she was all right, but it would be too obvious to leave immediately.

 

 

 

Richard let five minutes or so go by before he, too, stood up.

 

 

 

“Please excuse me, ladies. I have just realised that I have something important to do. I shall return soon.”

 

 

 

His mother gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, very important, son. Best you hop off and do it.”

 

 

 

Richard fought his need to blush, ducking his head as he left. Why must his mother torment him so?

 

 

 

He didn't immediately see Sophia when he reached the garden, but he continued on, unwilling to give up. She could be behind one of the taller hedges or perhaps near the woods. The head start he had given her could have allowed Sophia to cover a lot of distance, and if his memory served him correctly, the woman could run. Fast.

 

 

 

“Surely she hasn't left?” he asked himself.

 

 

 

She wouldn't do that, would she? Sophia was different from most women, but she wasn't impulsive or foolish enough to walk home, was she? Goodness! He really wasn't confident about that.

 

 

 

Richard walked faster, growing increasingly alarmed as he looked behind every hedge and over every bush. Where was she? With growing stress, he looked back at the house. Had she returned to the parlour?

 

 

 

“No,” he muttered. “I doubt she would want to go back so soon.”

 

 

 

Sophia had to be somewhere around here, and he was going to—

 

 

 

“Oh!” Richard cried, nearly walking into a sitting woman looking into the distance.

 

 

 

Sophia scowled up at him and scooted a little away. “Have you no care for where you walk?”

 

 

 

Relieved, Richard breathed out a laugh. "You're here! For a moment, I believed you had run away."

 

 

 

“Run away?” Sophia repeated. “Do not be daft. Now that you have found me, you may go. I am not returning just yet.”

 

 

 

Richard sat down instead. His heart was beating a tad too fast, and he needed a little rest before arguing with her. Sophia harrumphed and turned away, drawing her knees to her chest before resting her chin on them.

 

 

 

Silence stretched between them, and usually, he would have welcomed it, but Richard had other ideas. He needed to know what had made her pull away and how to make everything right between them again. He had grown tired of her hot and cold behaviour. It was stressful, to say the least, and had left him uncertain and confused.

 

 

 

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked.

 

 

 

Silence. Sighing, Richard angled his body towards her and shifted a little closer. Sophia drew her legs in tighter as she tilted away.

 

 

 

“If I have done anything to upset you—”

 

 

 

“You haven't,” Sophia cut in.

 

 

 

She still did not look at him, but her answer gave him hope. “Then why are you punishing me?”

 

 

 

Sophia dropped her legs, twisting her upper body towards him. “Punishing you? How on earth am I doing that?”

 

 

 

“You refuse to speak to me, let alone look at me. What should I think? We are to be married soon, yet one wouldn't think so by looking at the pair of us.”

 

 

 

Sophia groaned, lowering her head. “This is such a mess! I never wanted any of this.”

 

 

 

“I know, but we can make the best of it, can't we?”

 

 

 

Sophia lifted her head, showing him the agony in her eyes. "You do not understand, Richard. I cannot live knowing that I took my sister's happiness away. I…I think I wish to call off the wedding."

 

 

 

Stunned, Richard drew away. “What?”

 

 

 

“Yes,” Sophia insisted. “I do not mind if my reputation is ruined, you see. Elizabeth's happiness means more to me. You and my sister can get married instead, and I'll be glad knowing that she is no longer heartbroken.”

 

 

 

What kind of woman was she? Richard had never known anyone else to be this selfless, and while he marvelled at her courage, he still found her barking mad.

 

 

 

“Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “'Tis far too late to change your mind now, Sophia. We are getting married whether you like it or not.”

 

 

 

“But—”

 

 

 

"No," Richard insisted. "The wedding date has been set, the arrangements are practically done, and our families will never accept anything but our marriage."

 

 

 

Sophia's face fell. Was she so disappointed about marrying him? He could understand her reasons, but it was it truly such a hardship to commit to him?

 

 

 

Richard neglected to give his other reasons for denying Sophia's wish, reasons that bothered him enough to keep him awake at night. His feelings for the woman were growing, and he had no notion of how to stop them.