Chapter 20 #2
“I have had a very decided regard for him for any number of years. Four, to be precise.” She dared to lift her eyes and meet Marie’s.
“He rescued me four years ago in the drawing room of Chawleigh Manor. Robert said something to me…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Something not worth repeating, and I was sunk with embarrassment. Mr. Harwood came and turned everyone’s attention away from me.
I don’t know how he did it, but he managed to defend me, call Robert a boor, and not set up his hackles when he did so.
” She puzzled her brow and said again, “I don’t know how he did it. ”
Marie’s mouth opened in indignation. “Lady Sophia Rowlandson. All this time you have liked him and have not said a word to me! Even when I said that he was handsome and hoped he would turn his eyes my way.” She set her hand on Sophia’s arm, forcing her to look at her directly.
“You have to tell me these things. I believe I am your closest friend. I dare hope so after all these years, and I know you are mine. I don’t expect to know everything that is on your heart, for you have never been one to speak before you are ready.
But something as big as this? I should have been made aware.
I would have stepped aside right from the beginning. ” She frowned. “It is what friends do.”
Sophia knew Marie was right, and suddenly her refusal to disclose something so important seemed shameful. She covered her face with her hands and leaned forward. “I know I should have told you, yet I could not bring myself to do it. I was certain he would like you better than me.”
“That is outrageous,” Marie protested. “How can you think such a thing?”
Sophia lifted her head to look at her. “The only qualities I have in my favor are my face and my rank. Some might think those the highest qualifications, but a man who is worthy enough to attract my regard would not. He would hope for something much deeper.”
Marie did not look convinced. “But you have something much deeper. You are not simply the sum of your face plus your rank. Your heart is worthy and noble; it is time you started valuing yourself with justice.”
The words touched Sophia but did not convince her. “He is a member of Parliament and will need a woman who is capable of organizing social gatherings—of speaking to people. That is not me.”
“Not every member of Parliament needs such a wife,” Marie retorted. “And I am not entirely certain you are as hopeless at organizing events or speaking to people as you seem to think. Give yourself a chance for these skills to be nurtured. Then, you will see what you are capable of.”
A silence fell between them, and Sophia looked at her sheepishly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Marie let out a huff. After a moment, she put her arm around Sophia and squeezed her in an embrace. “It is all right.”
She laughed suddenly. “And it might not all be for naught, for having been spurned by Mr. Harwood, I have been forced into the company of Mr. Edwards.” Her eyes twinkled when Sophia turned to look at her. “And I am not finding him as uninteresting as I once did.”
Marie did not remain at Grosvenor Square for much longer, and Sophia bid her farewell, then took refuge in her room.
She stared from her window at the houses opposite on Brook Street, deep in thought about all her friend had revealed.
Marie had suspected Sophia’s secret, and she had told Mr. Harwood who she was.
The implications were astounding. It meant that when he had spoken those words in the magic of the evening, he had known—had known it was her.
The woman I love is strong and able to raise her voice to defend the weak.
…is pure of heart.
She is the one I am destined to love.
And then…
The woman I love has pierced my heart and made me unfit for anyone else.
Until now, she had not permitted herself to dwell on these words because she had convinced herself that they had been spoken about someone else.
But now, she knew he had meant them for her.
What did that mean? Would he drift back to how things were before?
He had never spoken to her directly of courtship.
What would he do now? She longed for direct words.
Oh, if only he would put me out of misery and remove all doubt!
She went over to her desk and pulled out her memento book.
Sitting, she turned to a new page and took a pencil.
She was about to sketch a row of Chinese lanterns, but instead drew a wherry pulled up against a bank.
On the meadow nearby, a picnic sat on a blanket.
When she was satisfied with that, she turned the page and sketched the lanterns, then two loo masks.
She added a moon and stars and an arrow mid-flight.
A nervous, happy fluttering had taken flight inside.
She had never experienced such a thing and couldn’t believe it was real.
It was almost impossible to sit still. If only he would come to call.
Or she could go to Hyde Park in hopes of seeing him there.
But then what if he did call, and she missed his visit?
Groaning softly, she dropped her head on her arms. The not knowing was as torturous as Diana and Endymion’s plight ever was.