Chapter 27
“What do you think you are doing?” Sophia’s mother, Lady Ashbury looked up at Sophia with a questioning scowl; eyebrow raised, pursed lips, it was a look that Sophia was growing all too used to.
“Ah…” Sophia hesitated.
All she was doing was pulling out her seat to sit down for breakfast. It was something that she had done one hundred times before and would do one hundred times again. Certainly not something worthy of the ire that she found herself on the receiving end of.
“Close your mouth, dear,” her mother commanded of her. “You look like a fish. It is unbecoming.”
Sophia did as she was told, still standing behind her chair, still frozen as she was half-committed to pulling it out from the table before sitting down.
“Now, tell me.” Her mother placed down her knife and fork on either side of her plate and folded her hands on her lap. “What have you done wrong just now?”
Sophia’s brow furrowed as she considered. “I am not sure, Mother.”
“Think harder.”
Sophia did a quick recount of her morning.
Easy to do, as she had only been awake for two hours.
Those two hours saw her busy with her usual morning routine, one that had been trained into her since she was a little girl.
She rose with the sun. She bathed thoroughly.
She then dressed in a pre-chosen outfit.
And only once she was looking perfectly presentable did she make her way downstairs to break her fast.
Not before her mother or father were seated, however. She knew that she was not to be the first to sit down. This was their home, they were in charge, and she was always to wait until at least one of them was there before she joined them.
I know I have done nothing wrong, as does my mother. All this is, is a way to punish me, and to remind me of my place.
It took all the control that Sophia had not to glare at her mother.
“I am not sure, Mother,” she said politely. “For which, I am sorry. If you are happy to tell me how I have erred, I will endeavor to correct it for next time.”
“You should know by now,” her mother said. “You are not a little girl anymore, Sophia. The fact that you still require instruction…” She sighed as if the thought hurt her. “It is no wonder the Duke kicked you out.”
Sophia clenched her jaw in anger but was careful not to let that anger show. Just as she was careful not to unleash it on her mother. This was not Rothbury Estate, she was not free here like she was there, and she certainly would not get away with doing as she pleased, how she pleased it.
Here, there were rules, and it was imperative that she stuck to them.
“My apologies,” Sophia said through her clenched jaw. “I will aim to do better from now on.”
Her mother clicked her tongue dismissively and looked away from her daughter as if with disgust. “You did not ask permission to join the table, dear. You barged into the room like a drunken sailor, taking rather than asking, as you should have done. I do not know how things were done at Rothbury but here, there are rules. And these rules are to be followed.” She snapped her head up and cocked a questioning eyebrow. “Do I make myself clear.”
Sophia’s pulse quickened and the urge to speak out surged. Again… she refrained from that urge, burying it deep so that she could hardly hear it.
“My mistake,” Sophia said politely. “Mother, may I join you at the table?”
“Of course you can, dear.” Her mother picked up her knife and fork and went back to her breakfast. “And thank you for asking.”
It was lucky that her mother was back to focusing on her food because the glare that Sophia fixed her in as she sat down was one that would certainly have called for repercussion. Not that this would be the first time such a thing had happened.
Sophia had known that her mother and father would be upset with her when she returned. And not just because her marriage had failed, but because it was sure to reflect badly on their reputation across the ton – that was, without fear of exaggeration, their chief concern.
Were they sad for their daughter? Were they angry at the Duke?
Did they think to console her, ask her what happened, or do anything that might suggest that they cared one wit about their eldest daughter and what was a most fragile situation that she was still struggling to come to terms with? Of course not!
As far as her parents were concerned, Sophia was to blame.
Worse than that, they were not surprised because in their mind Sophia was the type who had this coming.
As hard as she had tried her entire life to be the perfect daughter, they still saw her as a problem.
And now that her marriage had failed, they were proven correct.
What followed were three days of pettiness much like the incident just now with the breakfast table.
If Sophia thought how they had treated her before was strict, it was nothing compared to their new treatment.
They seemed to think that what happened was a result of bad upbringing, and if they doubled down their efforts, that they might be able to mold her into someone whose marriage had not failed.
Or maybe they are just punishing me? There is no higher motive. They are not trying to correct bad mistakes. They are simply furious at me for what happened and this is how they show it.
Needless to say, Sophia broke her fast in silence, happy to pretend that she was not there… just as her mother was happy to pretend that she was not there also.
Her sister arrived at one stage too, and she was sure to ask if she might sit before doing so. When she did, she rolled her eyes at Sophia and Sophia smirked. But they did not speak, because her mother did not appreciate small talk.
It was just as Sophia was finishing her plate that she thought to rise from the table and be gone from her mother’s sight. Her mother was reading the morning paper, so best to slip out now before she had a chance to say anything else.
Sophia pushed back her chair to stand.
“What do we say?” her mother reminded her without looking up from the paper?
Sophia frowned.
“You did not ask to be excused,” her sister said under her breath so that only Sophia might hear it.
Sophia smiled gratefully at her younger sister before looking at her mother. “May I be excused?”
“How nice of you to ask.” A beat passed, Sophia frozen mid-stance. “Yes, you may be excused. But I want to see you upstairs in an hour. Practice, practice, practice.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“And your sister will be joining us,” her mother continued. “Try and set a good example.”
Her sister stuck her tongue out at that… but only when she was certain their mother was not watching.
It was the pianoforte that her mother was referring to. Now that Sophia was home, her lessons had returned. Typically, Sophia was forced to play how she used to, and predictably she found that she no longer enjoyed it as she once did.
So much had changed… Sophia especially.
Nonetheless, she put her head down and was about to hurry from the room when her father stormed in. One look at his face, how red it was with anger, and Sophia’s stomach dropped. She was the cause, she knew, and whatever the reason, it was sure to make this day even worse than it already was.
“You.” He pointed right at Sophia, who had taken just the single step away from the table. “You have some explaining to do.”
Sophia blinked. “Concerning?”
“What is this I hear of your husband being seen yesterday walking with Lady Clarissa Harwood? And not just walking! By all accounts, they looked very friendly.”
“Gabriel…” She swallowed and swayed. “He was… Lady Clarissa? That… that’s not…”
It was only three days ago that Sophia walked away from her marriage. Three days since she decided that she and Gabriel could not work, despite how much she wanted them to. And three days, apparently, was all it took for her husband to move on.
She had tried her best not to think of him – impossible to do, all things considered. Gabriel was everywhere that she went, living in every thought, present in every memory. He was impossible to escape from and would continue to be until Sophia was finally able to move on.
Do I even want to move on? That is what I struggle with. As upset as I am, as angry as I was, there is still a part of me that loves Gabriel… just as there is a part of me that knows he loves me too.
It was hopeful, as well as deluded, but Sophia had not given up on Gabriel entirely. She knew how stubborn he was. Just as she knew that he cared for her. All they needed was time, she was sure, and then he would see what she knew for fact: that their marriage was far from over.
At least Sophia had thought that way. Now…
She stumbled as the world turned, latching out and grabbing a hold of the chair beside her for support. Her parents did not notice, both looking upon her with levelled fury and disgust in her actions. This was her doing, as far as they were concerned.
“Maybe it is nothing,” her sister suggested.
“Are you certain?” her mother spoke up, ignoring her youngest daughter.
“As certain as I can be,” her father said. “A friend wrote me last evening, but I only had a chance to open his letter just now. He saw them with his own two eyes, and according to him, they looked very comfortable together.” His lip curled. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Sophia struggled to find the words.
What did she have to say? That this news broke her? That it was a knife plunging through her chest? That it was a hand squeezing her heart so that it might burst? That for the first time in three days she was forced to truly consider that her marriage was over? Is that what they wanted to hear?
“I… Gabriel is free to do as he wishes,” she somehow managed.
“Excuse me?” her father balked.
“As I explained when I returned…” Sophia forced herself to stand straight, even as the room wobbled around her.
“My marriage to His Grace is over. I expect soon that he will send papers of annulment, as is his right. So, who he spends his free time with his not my concern.” Each word literally hurt to speak, and it was all she could do to not burst into tears.
Was it anyone other than Lady Clarissa… maybe it would not be so bad. Why did it have to be her?
“His right? His right!” her father screeched, only to catch himself and take a deep breath. Her father was not one to let his emotions get the better of him. “What are we doing to do about this? What are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” she said.
Her father balked again. “I will remind you that your actions reflect on this family, Sophia. The perception of you as a woman, as a member of our class, is borne from this family and how you were raised. This…” He waved the letter in the air.
“This is not about you and your marriage, but us! This family. And as a member of this family, we must –”
“No, Father,” she cut him off. Not sharply, and not with anger. It was apathetic the way that she did, because she was done. “You must do as you wish, and I will not stop you. But as for me? I do not care.”
Her sister gasped.
“Sophia!” her mother cried. “How dare you!”
“You will care,” her father growled. “I will make it so that you do.”
“Do as you must…” She started forward, the last vestiges of her once-freedom forcing each step. “And let me know the result. I will be in my room.”
“Sophia! You are not excused,” her mother cried.
“Get back her, girl,” her father demanded. “We are not done with you!”
There was a time not so long ago when Sophia would not have dared to ignore her parents like she had just done.
The very thought… it was like imagining what it might be like to breathe fire instead of air.
Impossible to even consider! And where Sophia was slowly transforming back into this same woman who she had once been, there was still a small part of the new her which existed deep within her conscience.
She focused on that part of herself, letting it drag her from the room. She would pay for this later, she knew. One did not defy her parents and get away with it.
Images of Gabriel with Lady Clarissa swirled through her mind, played havoc with her senses, and made it so that she could hardly breathe or stand or do much of anything. She stumbled to her room, slammed the door closed, and collapsed on her bed in a pitiful heap.
Then she wept. She wept for the woman who she nearly was. She wept for the marriage that she nearly had. And she wept for the man who she loved but did not love her back. At times like this one, that’s really all there was to do.