Chapter 18
“Question…” Lord Alexander Sommerton leaned forward so that his elbows rested on the table. “Are you worried that the club is about to run out of liquor? Did somebody warn you of the possibility? And do you know something that I do not?”
Gabriel scowled at his best friend. “What are you talking about?”
“The rate that your drink is going down,” Sommerton noted with a tiny smirk. “Looks to me as if you are trying to finish this drink as quick as you possibly can, so that you can refill before stocks empty.”
“Funny.”
“I am not trying to be. Merely curious about your current rate of consumption. Is there a reason you seem so intent on plastering yourself so that walking will soon become impossible? Or are you just that thirsty?”
“Maybe the company is the problem.” Gabriel held a tankard of ale in his right hand. It was half-full, but he threw the rest of it back in one large mouthful, not caring that some spilled down his front. “Were you not so boring, I would not feel the need to drink so vivaciously.”
“Ah, yes, that must be it,” Sommerton said with a purposeful rolling of his eyes. “Shame on me, inviting you here to drink with me. I should have remembered how much you detested my company.”
“Do better next time then.” Gabriel went to have another mouthful, only to find the tankard empty. A sneer took his face, and he swiveled in the booth to catch the attention of the barkeeper.
Thankfully, Sommerton said nothing, even as he continued to eye Gabriel in a way that reeked of judgement. Rightfully so, because Gabriel deserved to be heavily judged and scrutinized. Not just for the way he was behaving either, but for his being here also.
He had, after all, promised to join his wife for supper this evening. He even looked forward to it. But Gabriel was just now coming to terms with his cowardice, which in turn was the reason he chose to meet with Sommerton instead.
It did not excuse his actions, nor did it justify them. If anything, it only made him feel worse.
She will be furious with me, and rightfully so. Or perhaps she is past the point of fury? With how I have treated her lately, she is likely resigned by now to what I am and how this marriage is destined to unfold.
Gabriel had every intention of supping with his wife this evening. When she saw him earlier, drinking tea with Lady Clarissa, crippling guilt had surged through his insides like he could not have expected. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, but it felt as if he was.
That told him everything that he needed to know, while confirming his worst fears.
He tried to deny it. He tried to fight it. He tried to lie to himself, admonish his feelings, refuse them as if they were an enemy to be beaten away. But the more he did, the clearer the truth became: Gabriel was falling for his wife.
“Ah, there it is. Finally.” Another tankard of ale landed before Gabriel, and he scooped it up and took a deep sip as if his life depended on doing so. “Much better.”
“I take it we are not going to talk about it?” Sommerton asked.
“Talk about what?”
“The reason you’re drinking like a man who is dying of thirst.”
“You are the one who invited me for a drink,” Gabriel snapped. “I am just doing as I was offered.”
“A drink, yes. Not all of the drinks…”
Sommerton was not known for his commiseration or sympathy.
He was not a caring soul, the type who always put others first – his friends, especially.
He was like Gabriel in many ways, which was why they had been friends since their time studying together at Eton.
Two peas borne of the same pod and thus perfect companions in a world where so many spurned the way that Gabriel chose to live his life.
The fact that he was showing genuine concern for Gabriel was telling. At the very least it was enough to make Gabriel stop and consider why he felt the way that he did… the guilt, the way it made his insides twist so that he could hardly breathe.
I know why, and that is not the problem. The problem is that I feel guilty at all. Drinking will not fix it, but it might numb the guilt to a point where it no longer matters.
As things currently stood, it was the best that Gabriel could hope for. A most sad state of affairs indeed.
“It has been a long week,” Gabriel said darkly and he narrowed his eyes at is friend across the booth. “That is all. And if I feel the need to end the week with a few drinks, I would prefer to do it without being judged. Especially by you.”
“Is that what I am doing?” Sommerton folded his arms across his chest. “And here I am, showing concern for a dear friend who means to spit in my face in return. The last time I show you sympathy.”
“Ridiculous…”
“I do wonder…” Sommerton allowed the tiniest hint of a smirk across his rictus. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your marriage, would it?”
Gabriel was halfway through another mouthful but the moment the nail was hammered right on its head, he choked and sputtered his drink all down his front. Then he punched his chest to clear his airways, while doing his best to ignore Sommerton’s probing stare and wicked smirk.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gabriel stammered and coughed. “You of all people should know how little my marriage means to me.”
“I thought that I did,” he said. “Now, I do not know what to believe.”
Gabriel put down his tankard and looked directly at Sommerton. He narrowed his eyes, sure that his next words would not be confused. “My marriage is not an issue. It is for appearances only, and convenience. My wife knows it, I know it, and we are as happy as can be.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said without missing a beat. “I am quite sure.”
It was a lie, and from the way his best friend eyed him with skepticism, there was no doubt that Sommerton saw right through it.
Gabriel’s words should have been truthful. The way this marriage had started, and what he expected from it, were exactly as he said.
Typically, as was the reason for Gabriel drinking as if it was his last night on earth, it was also nowhere near that simple.
Sophia was not the same woman who he married. Ironic, as that was the entire point. Gabriel, in his eagerness to see the marriage done, had failed to comprehend just how much his wife would change… and what said changed would do to him.
He had wanted to see the other side of her. He had wanted to lure those hidden emotions to the fore so that she would be free. He liked the idea of corrupting Sophia, changing her, twisting her sensibilities so that she would do as she wanted, and not what was expected.
And it was these changes that drew Gabriel to her like a moth to the flame. An apt metaphor, Gabriel thought, because of the danger inherent in both.
He did not want it. Dammit, he tried to resist it. But day by day, piece by piece, his self-control and good sense fled him. Worse still, he sensed that she was of the exact same mind.
“If that is how it has to be.” Sommerton exhaled and sat up straight before collecting his own tankard and having a polite sip. “Just making sure.”
“No need for the concern, Sommerton.” Gabriel laughed dismissively. “I had no idea you were capable of such things. Maybe you are the one in need of my help?”
“Concern? For you? Not at all.” He had another mouthful, watching Gabriel over the lip of his tankard the entire time. “Just curious, is all. Just curious…”
His lies were starting to fail him. The truth becoming more obvious by the day. While Gabriel knew the best thing to do was avoid his wife from now until the end of eternity, he knew too that he was not capable of such a thing as that.
This, above all else, is why I never wanted to marry. I suppose in that sense the joke is on me… I just wish that I could find the humor in it like everyone else seems to be doing.
Gabriel returned later in the evening than he had meant to. Although he was trying to avoid having supper with Sophia, his intention was to return just as she was finishing. That way, he could apologize for running late and hopefully salvage the little respect that she likely had left for him.
Not that I should care…
In the end, he had gotten carried away drinking with Sommerton, and it wasn’t until well after supper had started that he stumbled indoors.
Right away, he saw that the dining room was empty.
Relief is what he should have felt, but guilt was what took him.
He just did not understand it! He did not want this marriage to evolve.
He did not want Sophia to fall for him, or him for her.
But if that was the case, why did he feel so awful about hurting her?
Why did he feel as if he needed to try harder?
I have had entirely too much to drink, is why. A good night of sleep is what I need, and tomorrow all will be clearer…
He stumbled up the stairs and started down the hallway, his intention being to find his room and fall into a deep slumber. As he started toward his room, he heard music drift from somewhere inside the manor. The distinct sound of the pianoforte being played.
It was dark and hauntingly beautiful. It was heavy and sorrowful, passion-filled, and dripping with so much heart that it bled. He was drawn to it as if angels sang for him to come and find them. Despite himself, Gabriel followed the rhythmic melody.
Soon, he found himself in the doorway of the music room.
There were no candles burning in the room, the only light coming from the moon which shone bright through the window. That white light swept across the darkness and landed on Sophia who sat alone at the pianoforte. She glowed from both the light and the music that she played.
She sat with her back to the doorway, a straight back, fingers gliding across the keys.
He could tell that her eyes were closed, and the way that her body moved to the music told him that she was feeling it deep in her soul.
There was no sheet music to guide her, just her own raw talent and the emotion that poured from her body.