A Most Unlikely Betrothal by Alice Kirks

Chapter 8

 

 

Why were some women so complicated?They were the one area where Richard had felt confident about hisabilities to woo them.Sophia had turned that on its head.

 

 

 

“Will you drink that brandy, or continue to nurse it?” his father asked then.

 

 

 

Richard looked the older man's way and raised his glass to him before taking a sip. He hadn't wanted the drink in the first place, but his father had insisted. The Duke wanted to discuss something, but had been dragging his feet about it. Richard's patience was wearing thin; he had other pressing matters to worry about.

 

 

 

“So,” the Duke began. “Your fiancée is an interesting woman.”

 

 

 

Richard nearly snorted. That was putting it lightly, and his father knew it. Interesting was not the word he would use to describe Sophia.

 

 

 

“Sophia is many things, Father,” Richard replied vaguely. “But perhaps we can set aside the word 'interesting'. It doesn't do her any justice.”

 

 

 

"Yes, I think so,” the Duke agreed. “She didn't say much at dinner yesterday, but something tells me that she is an intelligent woman. What do you know about her? I'm afraid I've only heard a few things here and there. Not the kind sort, I might add."

 

 

 

Richard knew about the rumours since his own friends were part of the group spreading them. He had never actively taken part in the scuttlebutt, but he had never told his friends to hold their tongues either. Richard was as much to blame for making Sophia some sort of social pariah, and now she would become his wife. How was he going to stand by and let them badmouth his own wife?

 

 

 

“Is there any reason why we're discussing this now?” Richard asked.

 

 

 

Perhaps he sounded impertinent, but he was uncomfortable speaking about Sophia to his parents.

 

 

 

"I wanted to know how you feel about her," the Duke replied. "It cannot be easy marrying a woman you do not particularly like. I know you were interested in her sister."

 

 

 

Richard's eyes widened a bit. This was the first time that Elizabeth had been acknowledged since his parents questioned him about his interest in her. Richard had wondered if his parents would remember the younger Emley sister. Apparently, they had.

 

 

 

"Yes," Richard admitted. "Elizabeth was the woman I was interested in, but you and Mother disapproved. Sophia is Elizabeth's sister, and yet you're ready to welcome her. Why?"

 

 

 

"Isn't it obvious, son? Sophia's reputation was compromised, and we owed it to her to save it," the Duke explained. "Honour means a lot to us Hathertons, and we try to uphold it however we can. Marrying Sophia is the right thing to do. She would not have been one of our choices, but I will say she has a better head on her shoulders than most of the women you have had a brief dalliance with."

 

 

 

A better head on her shoulders? The woman was insane! She had nearly taken off his own head yesterday when all he had wanted to do was have a peaceful evening. They could have reached some sort of understanding to make the transition from acquaintances to husband and wife a smooth one, but Sophia had had other ideas.

 

 

 

“Sophia certainly doesn't think like most women,” said Richard. “She is…a difficult woman to deal with.”

 

 

 

The Duke surprised him by throwing his head back and laughing. “I think it's about time that you have a difficult woman to please, son. You have become too accustomed to women falling at your feet, but Sophia is not like that at all. A little humility will not hurt you.”

 

 

 

That wasn't what Richard wanted to hear. Sophia had called him many things and questioned his manhood until it lay in shreds at her feet. He had never had a woman attack him and then walk away without the slightest remorse.

 

 

 

"If you frown any harder, you'll turn that brandy into beer," his father remarked. "Drink up and try to look on the bright side, son. You no longer need to look for a wife, and Sophia looks like a woman capable of continuing the Hatherton line. Her mother said that she would make a wonderful mother. What more can you ask for?"

 

 

 

“Attraction?” said Richard.

 

 

 

"Beauty isn't everything and it's often in the eye of the beholder. Sophia might become the most beautiful woman to you in time. It shouldn't matter what others think, only what you think about her. Get to know her, be friends with her and give her a chance to show you what her family sees. I admit that Sophia isn't a beautiful woman, but she has qualities about her that make her a striking young woman. Perhaps she would have been lovely had she been born in another era, one that would have appreciated her type of beauty.”

 

 

 

Richard doubted that. An overly generous mouth was not seen as attractive by anyone he knew. Sophia's lips looked more like the ones he had once seen on a Mulatto woman. Sophia's nose had a slight piggish look to it that Richard found unattractive, and the freckles across her nose and cheeks further drove the idea home that she was simply not a beauty.

 

 

 

Richard had to admit that her eyes were striking with their dark brown colour and long eyelashes, but that was about it. It was a shame that one feature could not make up for the rest.

 

 

 

“We'll have to agree to disagree, Father. I cannot imagine anyone thinking Sophia is beautiful, but I suppose crazier things have happened.”

 

 

 

“Such as kissing the wrong woman and being caught doing it?” the Duke asked with one cocked eyebrow.

 

 

 

Richard groaned. “Must you remind me at every turn? My mind rarely lets me forget it.”

 

 

 

“Reminding you is the least of your concerns, son. You're marrying the woman in a few months-- that's all the reminder you need.”

 

 

 

Had his father called him just to rub the drama in his face? “Yes. A woman who hates me,” he muttered.

 

 

 

“Hate is a strong word,” his father said.

 

 

 

“It's an apt word for how my fiancée feels about me. I never thought I would marry a woman who hates me, Father. There is something wrong about that.”

 

 

 

Richard put his drink down and walked to his father's ship models. The Duke had a love for ships and owned a few that merchants rented on a yearly basis. It was one of the few forms of passive income that had filled the family coffers until they were bursting out of their enclosures.

 

 

 

Their farms across England and Scotland brought in a tidy sum as well, making the Hathertons one of the wealthiest nobles in Europe. Of course, one that rich always had to pay the price. Richard's father often had to 'donate' a sum of money to King George, and now the Prince Regent, to help the monarch live his lavish lifestyle. Richard would have preferred the money to go to the soldiers and their families, but the mere citizensdid not get to choose once the country's monarch had spoken and decreed.

 

 

 

"I believe Sophia is angry, son," the Duke insisted. "Her choices were taken away from her, and she blames you for it. I do think it foolish of her to hold on to little details like that, but I cannot judge her either."

 

 

 

If only his father knew how Sophia had judged him! “Angry or not, I saw hatred in her eyes yesterday. They might have to drag her up the aisle spitting and screaming.”

 

 

 

The Duke chuckled. “That would be an interesting scene to witness, but I doubt it will happen. Sophia is an intelligent woman who loves her family. She wouldn't do anything to embarrass them.”

 

 

 

Richard supposed that was something. "You're right. She wouldn't do anything to draw attention to her family."

 

 

 

Him, on the other hand... Richard was a little afraid of a woman who wasn't enthralled with his charms. He had never come across someone who wanted nothing to do with him, let alone stand near him!

 

 

 

Sophia had done everything to avoid touching him, but something had happened when she had put her hands on his arm. Richard didn't know how to explain the bizarre feeling of her gloved palm on his arm, but he could have sworn that he felt Sophia's warmth right through the layers of material that had separated their bare skin.

 

 

 

“Drink up and smile, son,” his father insisted. “You have a few months left of being a single man. At least enjoy it, but do not do anything that will bring more scandal to the family. One was enough.”

 

 

 

Richard took his glass and tapped it against his father's before drinking the brandy in one gulp. He hissed as he felt the familiar burn course down his throat.

 

 

 

“Good brandy, Father.”

 

 

 

“Thank you. Good alcohol is one of the things I pride myself on. I imagine you have other things to do now.”

 

 

 

Which was his father's way of saying that the conversation was over. Richard grinned and left the Duke's study. He did have a few things to do, but he couldn't concentrate on them right now. Knowing that a woman hated him should anger him, but Richard was more intrigued.

 

 

 

Who expected to have a wife that despised him right off the bat? Richard didn't want to marry Sophia any more than she wanted to marry him, but a wedding was a definite. Nicholas had said to make the best of the situation, and what better way than to challenge himself to make Sophia like him before they spoke their vows?

 

 

 

Richard didn't want people knowing that he was marrying a woman who couldn't stand the sight of him. It was a point of pride for him. Did this make him the shallow person Sophia assumed him to be? Richard didn’t think so. Having standards did not make a person shallow. He had been polite towards her, hadn’t he?

 

 

 

“I’ve never mistreated a woman in my life, and I’m not about to start now,” he said to himself. “Sophia merely needs to see a different side to me.”

 

 

 

But how?

 

 

 

*    *    *

 

 

 

Several days later, Richard sat with a pen and paper with every intention of sending a short note to Sophia, but he had to take a step back and evaluate his decision. He wanted to call on Sophia, but he also might run into Elizabeth.

 

 

 

“Well, it's safe to say that my idea is firmly rejected,” he muttered, crumpling the still clear paper.

 

 

 

It was such a waste, but his frustration needed an outlet. Going to the Emley's house would rub his engagement to Sophia in Elizabeth's face, which Richard execrated.

 

 

 

Sighing, heput his head on his desk, banging it against the wood.

 

 

 

“What on earth are you doing, Richard?” his mother asked from the doorway.

 

 

 

Richard lifted his head, rubbing at the slight sting on it. "I'm composing ideas."

 

 

 

"What sort of ideas?" the Duchess asked, crossing the threshold of the room.

 

 

 

Richard didn't want to tell his mother anything about his need to see Sophia again. She would assume he was warming up to the woman when all he wanted to do was make the woman like him.

 

 

 

“It's not important. Was there something you needed to see me about?”

 

 

 

“Yes, actually. You're essentially courting Sophia, but you've hardly spent any time with her. Don't you think it important to see more of her?”

 

 

 

And just like that, Richard had an idea. “I agree with you, Mother. Why don't you invite Sophia to the house tomorrow?”

 

 

 

“I hoped you would say that,” his mother said, clearly pleased. “We can make an afternoon of it. Of course, I'll invite Patricia as well so we can discuss the wedding.”

 

 

 

That's all his mother ever spoke about these days. Just how much did women have to talk about wedding details?

 

 

 

“I'm sure Mrs Emley will be happy. Will you send the invitation now?”

 

 

 

The Duchess nodded. “The earlier, the better. I'll use your stationery if you don't mind.”

 

 

 

Richard pushed the writing pad and pen towards her. A footman was summoned moments later and sent to personally deliver the note to Sophia. Now, it was just a matter of waiting. Richard knew Sophia wouldn't be able to say no without appearing rude, but he had a feeling she would show her feelings towards him the first chance she had.

 

 

 

Not if I manage to disarm her with my charming ways first.

 

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

 

Richard made sure that he looked his best the next day, even earning him a backhanded compliment from his usually unobservant father. The Duke wasn't one to notice clothing unless it looked outlandish, so to receive a good word from him let Richard know that he looked handsome. Maybe too handsome.

 

 

 

“Where are you off to looking like that?” the man asked. “There isn't some event that I've forgotten, is there?”

 

 

 

“Not at all, Father. I thought it would be good for me to show my future wife what she'll be getting once she marries me.”

 

 

 

The Duke looked at him for several seconds and promptly burst out laughing. “Sophia has made you the woman of the relationship, son.”

 

 

 

“What? No!” Richard denied. “There is nothing wrong with a man dressing up to impress his fiancée, Father. I'm sure you did the same thing.”

 

 

 

"You look like a dandy, son. I never had to try that hard to attract your mother's attention. Are you certain your attire will achieve the results you're looking for?"

 

 

 

Richard had to admit that he was slightly overdressed, but his father didn't have to make him feel terrible about it.

 

 

 

“Very well. I'll go and change into something simpler.”

 

 

 

“You do that, son. This outfit might have worked on a woman like Elizabeth, but Sophia doesn't strike me as a woman who looks at physical beauty as much as she looks at the inner man. I advise that you show her that you're not just a pretty face.”

 

 

 

Richard grimaced, frowning at his father. “That's a line you feed women, not men.”

 

 

 

“I know, but Sophia isn't just any woman, is she?” the Duke said, and went on his way.

 

 

 

Richard had a feeling that being the man of the house would not be easy if Sophia didn't accept him as her husband. She would carry his name, but that didn't mean she would be easy to rule over.  Richard slowly climbed the stairs to his room, wondering how to tackle Sophia. The woman had to have a weakness, and he meant to find out what it was.

 

 

 

Sophia and her mother arrived precisely on time and were shown into the main parlour, where tea and an assortment of cakes and sandwiches were put out. Sophia had managed to avoid him taking her hand or sitting near him. That didn't matter because Richard still had the entire afternoon.

 

 

 

“I'm so glad you could come, Patricia,” said the Duchess. “We still have so much more to discuss!”

 

 

 

“I was happy to come, Diana,” Mrs Emley insisted. “I was just telling Sophia in the carriage that we felt right at home during dinner the other night. You and your family are so inviting. Isn't that so, Sophia?”

 

 

 

“Yes, Mama,” Sophia replied dutifully.

 

 

 

The Duchess personally served the tea, which was something she usually didn't do. That said a lot about the respect she had for the Emleys. Perhaps she was truly trying to forge a good relationship with them. If only Sophia thought the same way.

 

 

 

“How many cubes do you take, Sophia?” the Duchess asked.

 

 

 

“Two, Your Grace.”

 

 

 

“Just like Richard. Perhaps you'll find that you're very much like him.”

 

 

 

Sophia smiled, but it looked more like she had just swallowed something distasteful. Even admitting to being similar in some ways was unacceptable for her. Goodness, but she was difficult. Why did he find that strangely exhilarating? Something had to be wrong with him.

 

 

 

"I doubt Richard is as strong-willed as my daughter," Mrs Emley said, laughing. "Sophia never backs down from anything if she believes it is right or a good cause. Nothing shakes her morals."

 

 

 

“Richard is the same,” the Duchess replied. “But he tends to use his charms to makes everyone around him believe that he is right. I do not know where he gets such skill because his father was not as charming when I met him.”

 

 

 

“You are charming, Mother,” Richard remarked. “I must have inherited the trait from you.”

 

 

 

The Duchess laughed. “I suppose you're right, son. Although I do not think you'll be able to charm Sophia so easily. I would say you've met your match.”

 

 

 

“I couldn't agree with you more, Diana!” said Mrs Emley, chuckling away. “Perhaps fate brought them together for this very reason.”

 

 

 

Richard didn't think fate had anything to do with it, although he did use that excuse every now and then. This situation was simply a case of mistaken identity. Besides, why would fate wish to bring together two people who were like chalk and cheese? Or milk and brandy?

 

 

 

Sophia didn't appear bothered by the conversation as she sat drinking her tea and looking out of the window. She hadn't touched the pastries and only taken a small bite of a sandwich. Perhaps she had eaten at home or was taking a stand against getting comfortable in his home. Whatever the reason, Richard had had enough. He wanted to shout at her to stop avoiding him at every turn and all but ignoring him when he was sitting merely a few steps away from her.

 

 

 

Oh, Sophia was oh-so polite, but her manner was so painful and careful that he wanted to ruffle her feathers and see more of the woman who had given him a verbal beating the other night. Sophia had revealed more about herself then than he had ever witnessed, and it had forced him to see her in a different light. Now, he wanted her to see him in a different light.

 

 

 

"Mother, why don't I take Sophia on a tour of the house?" he suggested. "This will one day be her home, and it would be my pleasure to show her around."

 

 

 

Richard had kept his eye on Sophia while he spoke to his mother. He noticed how she place the teacup on the saucer a little harder than she probably should have.

 

 

 

“Why, that is a fantastic idea!” the Duchess exclaimed. “I'm surprised I didn't think of it sooner.”

 

 

 

“I'm sure Sophia would love to go on a tour,” Mrs Emley added. “She's is interested in architecture, history, and art, all of which your home has.”

 

 

 

“But it's not necessary,” Sophia insisted with some strain showing through her voice. “I'm certain there will be another day to do so.”

 

 

 

“You're here now, Sophia,” Richard said with a smug smile. “I'd be honoured to give you a brief history lesson along with the tour. The Hathertons have been in this house for several centuries, after all.”

 

 

 

Two, to be exact. Their country estate boasted a long history of six hundred years, making them one of the oldest nobles in the area.

 

 

 

“Go along, dear,” Mrs Emley pressed. “Diana and I have much to talk about that would only bore you. Go with Richard.”

 

 

 

Richard watched Sophia struggle within herself, and for a moment, he thought she would refuse, but she sether cup and saucer down and stood. She would have walked past him, but Richard made it a point of taking her hand and putting it on his arm. Sophia tried to pull away, but he held on, giving her hand a slight squeeze to show that he would not relinquish his hold.

 

 

 

Richard heard her soft intake of breath before her hand curled over his forearm and showed her own strength. It was a warning, but if Sophia expected it to scare him, she was sorely misguided. Her actions had only excited him. When last had he felt such a grand challenge? It had been years!

 

 

 

“Shall we go?” he asked.

 

 

 

“You have my hand, my lord,” Sophia replied dryly. “I go wherever you go.”

 

 

 

Richard could tell the woman was being sarcastic, but some insane part of him liked what Sophia had said. What was wrong with him? He responded by patting her hand and leading them forward, taking care to keep his hold on her. The woman could bolt at any second.

 

 

 

As soon as they left the room, she stopped walking. “You can dispense with the show, my lord, and give me back my hand. I do not need to be led around like some child.”

 

 

 

“I thought that I was leading my fiancée around the house.”

 

 

 

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Please, do not talk like that when we're alone. It's unnecessary. We both know that we do not see each other in that way. Now, just show me what you wanted to show me, and I can leave."

 

 

 

Prickly little thing, wasn't she? Richard picked up their ambling pace again, keeping her hand in place. Sophia sighed, but at least she didn't try to fight him. Richard was strong, but he wasn't sure who would win the battle over her hand placement. Sophia Emley was not a woman he wished to underestimate.

 

 

 

“I must say that your blue dress becomes you,” he said  some moments later.

 

 

 

Sophia scoffed. "If you're going to pay a compliment, at least be honest about it. I cannot abide by liars."

 

 

 

Was he lying? The soft blue of the muslin material complemented her skin well and accentuated her young body. Sophia Emley wasn't pretty, but she was in better shape than most women.

 

 

 

It must be all that running she does.

 

 

 

“I meant what I said,” Richard affirmed. “Your dress looks lovely on your form. It complements your skin tone and the colour of your hair.”

 

 

 

Sophia frowned but said nothing. She probably didn't believe him and thought it better to keep quiet than argue over her physical appearance. Most women would have milked that compliment for all it was worth, but not Sophia. She wanted to avoid it.

 

 

 

"The west wing of the house was once burnt down in a fire," he said, pointing at the section. "If you look closely, you'll see that it looks newer than the rest of the house."

 

 

 

Sophia looked but made no comment. Was he boring her? Her mother had said that she was interested in history. Perhaps it was his history that Sophia wasn't keen to know.

 

 

 

“So, you have Great Danes for pets? Those are rather big dogs for a woman to have.”

 

 

 

“I don't think so.”

 

 

 

Richard waited for her to say something else, but that was it. Didn't she notice how he was trying to make conversation? For heaven's sake, she needed to at least try to get along!

 

 

 

“There's a room in the house that we could turn into a place where you can do all your art,” he said, hoping the idea would please her. “It has good lighting and plenty of space to store your canvases, paints, and easels.”

 

 

 

“I see.”

 

 

 

Richard closed his eyes for a moment. This was going to be more challenging than he thought, but he wasn't going to give up.

 

 

 

“I imagine you enjoy reading—we have a well-stocked library in this house, but the one at our country estate is far more impressive. A person could easily spend hours and days in it.”

 

 

 

“That sounds lovely, my lord.”

 

 

 

“Call me Richard, please,” he pressed. “It seems odd to call you Sophia while you address me so formally.”

 

 

 

“I like it this way.”

 

 

 

“Why?”

 

 

 

“Why what?” she asked, looking up at him.

 

 

 

“Why be difficult about this?”

 

 

 

Sophia raised one dark eyebrow, a smirk appearing at the corner of her mouth. “Difficult, you say? I haven't even started to be difficult, my lord. Are we done with the tour?”

 

 

 

It was on the tip of Richard's tongue to say yes, they were done with the tour and good riddance, but that was what Sophia was expecting. If he did the opposite, no matter how annoyed he was, it would surprise her.

 

 

 

“Not yet,” he said with a smile. “We still have a few more spots to look at. Shall we?”

 

 

 

Sophia paid him a brief startled look, but it was enough to give Richard the encouragement he needed to continue with his plan. He just needed a little more time to show Sophia that he wasn't the self-entitled man she believed he was. Time was on his side, after all.