Chapter Eight
Christopher stared up at the man hovering by the table, unable to comprehend that he had spent the entire afternoon in a tea shop just talking.
It could not be possible. Normally filled with restless energy, he did not like to sit still for long periods of time.
Glancing over his shoulder, he realised that Sophia and he were the only ones remaining, the rest of the customers having already left.
There wasn’t even a sign that they had ever been there as the tables were already cleared and set with clean, bright white tablecloths again.
Even though he could see it, he could not quite believe it.
The place must have fallen silent at some stage and neither of them had noticed.
If they were trying to prove to the people of the Ton that they were not a good match, perhaps talking and laughing all afternoon in front of them was not the best ploy.
Not that he planned to mention that to Sophia; she was jittery enough about the relationship as it was.
Standing next to him, the waiter wrung his hands together. ‘I do apologise, but we are closed. Of course, there is no hurry for you to leave but…’ The man looked positively anguished, possibly not used to having to throw people out.
‘Of course. I am sorry that we overstayed our welcome.’ Sophia was hurriedly standing, brushing her skirts.
He followed suit, not sure why he was rubbing his hands down his legs as there had not been a single thing they had eaten that would have produced crumbs. The waiter followed them to the door, apologising profusely the whole time but also probably making sure that they were, indeed, going to leave.
‘We were in there for hours,’ said Sophia when they were back in his carriage and after she had begged forgiveness from her maid for keeping her waiting.
Her maid looked pleased with the packages she was holding.
A paid afternoon off was probably a delight for the woman.
Now they were trundling behind a landau, its occupants clearly out to be seen by the rest of the Ton.
‘I quite lost track of the time. I am sorry if I talked too much.’
Casting a quick look in her direction, he saw that she was studying her gloved hands as they rested on her lap.
With her head bowed, she looked subdued, very different from the woman she had been in Gunter’s where she had been all sparkling eyes and curved lips.
He could not for the life of him think what had happened to produce such a change in mood.
‘Not at all,’ he replied, more stiffly than he intended. ‘If anyone was to blame, it was me. I cannot believe you politely listened to my rant against tight pantaloons. You should have thrown your ice over me to stop me talking.’
‘That would have been a terrible waste. And imagine the horror of the other guests when you realised that and began to spoon the food off your sleeves.’
He was pleased to see her smile was back, although he was about to ruin it with his next words. ‘We did not discuss our most pressing matter, however.’
‘No.’ She straightened, eyes fixed forward. ‘And…’
He waited but she did not continue. ‘And?’
‘I am concerned that we will not have done ourselves any favours by visibly enjoying one another’s company.’ So she had realised the same as him. Perhaps they were more alike in their thinking than he had thought.
One of his greys skittered to the side, probably annoyed by the strange twitch in his hand.
She was right, of course. They should have sat in stony silence, giving the impression that theirs was the worst union ever conceived.
At the very least, they should have come up with tentative ways to end their betrothal.
Ideas that they could explore. All they had done was talk and laugh, and eat ices.
‘I enjoyed our afternoon.’ It seemed important for her to know that at least.
There was a long pause before she said, ‘Thank you. I did too. When we first met, I thought we would have nothing in common, what with you being the entertainer that you are and me being the boring sister.’
‘The boring sister. What do you mean by that?’ He was surprised his voice was able to ask the question calmly.
It was unfathomable to him that such a wonderful, sparkling woman could have such a low opinion of herself.
If he ever found out who had made her feel that way, he would make sure they knew exactly how badly they had wronged her.
‘Everyone knows I am nothing like my family. If I did not have my mother’s hair and my father’s eyes, you would think I was a changeling.’ She laughed but there was no humour in the sound. ‘My sisters are more like you, full of fun and I am… not like that.’
‘You have not been even slightly boring since I met you.’
‘That is because our meetings have been under extremely unusual circumstances. Everything I have done since moments before we first met and now has been wildly out of character. I have never lost track of time or—’ she swivelled in her seat, clearly checking to see if anyone could hear her words, although how they would on a moving carriage was beyond him.
Her maid was watching the streets, pretending she couldn’t hear a word, but even so, Sophia whispered ‘—drunk brandy.’
‘Do not forget that you stole that brandy and that you ended up sprawled across a library floor.’
‘Lord Christopher!’ Her gaze swung to her maid, who was clearly suppressing a smile. ‘Please!’
‘Dispense with the “Lord”. A betrothed couple would not be so formal, especially if one of them has thrown brandy at the other.’ He was grinning now; there was something about her shocked disapproval of him that made his stomach fizz.
‘I do not think you are taking this seriously.’
‘Oh, believe me, I am.’ He had never taken anything this earnestly before.
By the time this false engagement was over, Sophia Jacobs would know her worth.
She would understand that a woman like her was worth a thousand of him.
The idea that anyone would end a real engagement with her was utterly ridiculous.
For now, he would concentrate on the more pressing matter: convincing her that he was not as much of a wastrel as she believed.
‘Surprisingly, not every day of my life involves racing pigs. A lot of my time is spent doing perfectly respectable things like reading investment reports.’
‘Really?’
‘You do have a low opinion of me.’ For some reason that didn’t deflate him. He hoped he wasn’t a conceited man, but it was far more normal for him to have women fawning over him than not. Her reaction was amusingly refreshing.
‘No, I do not. Perhaps I did have at the beginning, but now I think I judged where I should not have done. All I meant by my comment was that I would have thought you would have a man of business to do your work for you.’
‘If a decision has to be made involving my money, then it should be mine to make, otherwise it is not my profit; it is his. And I know not everyone feels like this, but I happen to enjoy mathematical problems. Anyway, enough of that. We are getting sidetracked again.’
Pulling the greys to a stop, he turned to face her. ‘I have a proposition for you.’
‘You do.’ She shifted uneasily and his mind unhelpfully conjured up images of what she might think he was about to suggest. He blinked them away, not wanting to think about how soft her skin looked.
‘It is not unsavoury, I promise. Do not write to Robert for at least four weeks.’
Her fingers twisted around themselves. He was surprised she was planning to do so anyway.
It made no odds to him whether she did or not, but as it was rather scandalous for her to write to an unmarried man, it seemed out of character for her to make such a move.
She must be desperate to get away from this betrothal, which was good, perfect even, and no cause for him to feel crushed.
‘Four weeks. Why on earth…?’
‘Let me finish. If he does not turn up in that time, you write to him. We will come up with something together, something that appeals to his heroic instincts. Something that means he must come to London to save you from marrying. In the meantime, we will look into other ways to end this, ways which do as little damage as possible.’
‘Hm.’
‘Does that hm mean, “Well done, Christopher, you are a genius?” or something more complimentary?’
‘It means I am thinking.’
He waited. Other carriages trundled past, but he did not turn to look at who might be in them.
It was strange, but when Sophia was in front of him, he was less interested in what was going on around him.
Perhaps it was her expressive features that kept him facing her.
Or maybe it was because he had no idea which way she was going to go.
‘What will we do during the four weeks?’
‘We shall have to be seen together, but we can make the excursions enjoyable.’
‘I would not want any farmyard animals involved.’
‘The pig racing only occurred once. Hell, I wish I had never done it and not just because you throw it in my face every few minutes.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes. It was an idiotic thing to do that caused far too much damage. I regret it and I have no intention of ever doing anything like that again.’
Her dark eyes were watching him thoughtfully and so he pressed on with his argument.
‘How about this? We both write down a list of things we would like to do over the next month and then share it. Together we will choose the things that appeal to us the most. If there is nothing on my list that you would like to do, I shall not force you. During these excursions we shall discuss what legitimate ways we have discovered to end our betrothal without one of us having to fake their own death.’
From the twitch of her shoulders, he guessed that extreme idea had already occurred to her and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud.
She stared at him for a long while, as if she were trying to see into his soul and discover whether he was trying to trick her or not.
He wasn’t. At first, he had gone along with the betrothal because he was a gentleman and a gentleman did not humiliate a young woman in front of members of the Ton.
Then, he had kept it going because he did not want to bring down unnecessary scandal on his family.
But now, he found that he liked Sophia. If she really believed this Robert was the man for her, then he would help her entice him to her.
He had to be in London anyway; he may as well enjoy the next few weeks.
He liked her; he found the way she worried at her bottom lip while she was thinking adorable, and talking to her was a great deal more interesting than doing so with most of his other acquaintances, but his heart would not be broken when Robert came to claim her.
‘Very well,’ she murmured eventually, ‘I accept your proposition.’
His heart suddenly lighter, he urged his greys into moving again. ‘Excellent. You will not regret it. I promise you.’