Chapter Fifteen
Marrisa was the last of them through the sitting room door.
She pushed it closed and then slumped her back against it, her eyes alight with mischief.
The sort of look which would normally chill Sophia to the bone, because it meant something chaotic was about to happen.
Tonight, she could not think on it. Whatever she was about to do could not be as bad as the situation they had just left.
For the first time in her life, she resented the tradition that men and woman separate after the meal.
Without her there who knew what sort of mayhem Christopher might unleash?
Not only him but Papa too. He was a dear man but as playful as four of his daughters.
Leaving Christopher and Robert alone with him was like leaving a puppy loose in the pantry when it was stocked with delicious treats; intentions might be good, but any training would be forgotten in the excitement of the moment.
For so long she had dreamed of marrying Robert, but it would be a miracle if he was still talking to her by the end of this evening.
Her family always confused him; their rumbustiousness was anathema to him.
This evening, they had been fairly subdued for them, but Christopher had made up for it with his loquacious compliments.
As for Christopher, well… he’d known what he was getting into when he had told her not to write to Robert and inform him of the nature of their betrothal.
He may not have intended this evening to happen exactly as it had, but he must have known there would be some sort of ridiculousness involved.
The thought of it might not have bothered him; indeed, from what she understood of his character, this sort of scrape would appeal to him.
Having his flaws pointed out to him at the dinner table was probably not what he’d had in mind, however.
Perhaps now, he would see sense and they could end this engagement within a few days.
She pressed a hand to her stomach where an odd pain seemed to have lodged itself. Nerves, no doubt.
‘That‘—said Marrisa, breaking into Sophia’s tumultuous thoughts—’was fantastic. It was the best meal any of us have ever experienced.’
Still fixated on Christopher and his lavish praise, Sophia muttered, ‘It was not that delicious.’
Marrisa’s eyeroll was so dramatic, Sophia feared for her sister’s eyesight. ‘Not the food, you ninny. The duel.’
‘What?’ It had happened; Marrisa had finally lost her mind.
‘Oh my goodness, Sophia.’ Marrisa raised her hands as if Sophia were the most hen-witted woman on Earth. ‘Surely even you could see those two men were fighting over you.’
Annie leaned forward in her chair, grinning wildly.
‘She was too busy staring into her handsome betrothed’s eyes to notice anything.
’ Her sister transformed her features into a doleful, pitiful expression which Sophia supposed was meant to resemble her at dinner, especially when the rest of the room descended into giggles.
Her mother’s gentle admonishment of, ‘Girls’ was largely ineffectual given that she was laughing the hardest.
‘Christopher is the more handsome of the two,’ said Marrisa, when they had all calmed down. ‘All that dark hair mixed with that firm jawline gives him the edge over Robert’s golden-boy, angelic looks.’
‘But he probably does not have his own seat in the country,’ argued Annie. ‘Not if he is the youngest son of five.’
‘The Dashworth family is exceptionally wealthy. He could probably buy ten seats in the country if he wanted,’ said Marissa.
‘Robert is less likely to get himself killed in some harum-scarum adventure. Sophia would probably prefer that.’
‘She would be a wealthy widow,’ said Marissa.
‘Stop!’ Her sisters jumped at Sophia’s shout, but she didn’t care about their wide-eyed shock. ‘You cannot talk about them like that.’
‘Oh, do not be such a stick in the mud, Sophia. How many people do you know that have two men fighting over them? I do not know any. You should be enjoying this, not looking like all your undergarments are twisted.’
‘Marrisa!’
‘Oh come on!’ Marrisa flopped her head back onto the door. ‘For once in your life, let go.’
‘This is not about me. It is about talking about Robert and Christopher with respect. It is about not reducing them to players on the stage of some drama you are concocting in your head.’ Marrisa’s skin flushed red, a bad sign, but Sophia did not care.
‘If you think that men do not discuss us in the same way,’ said Marrisa, ‘then you are very much mistaken.’
‘If that is true, then we should strive to be better.’ She loved her sister, but sometimes it was hard to remember that.
‘All this debate is irrelevant,’ said Mama, accustomed to her daughters arguing, and using the tone of voice she always did when she wanted them to stop it or face the consequences she was prepared to dish out if they didn’t.
Even as adults, her daughters listened to that tone.
Mama was lovely, but you crossed her at your peril.
‘Sophia is engaged to Lord Christopher, and they will marry before the Season is over. Robert may not like it, but he has had plenty of time to ask for Sophia’s hand and he has failed to do so. He will have to live with his regrets.’
Sophia stilled, all the fight from her interaction with her sisters draining from her.
She hadn’t realised anyone was aware she was waiting for a proposal from Robert.
She had certainly never discussed it with anyone other than Tabitha.
Her skin started to burn at the thought of her mother realising she had been waiting and waiting and nothing had been happening.
She’d thought no one in her house paid that much attention to her; it was sobering to realise she was wrong. What else did her mother know?
Marrisa threw herself onto the settee near Annie and a brief scuffle over whose skirts should take up what room took place.
Not ready to sit down and certainly not willing to listen to more of her sisters’ nonsense, Sophia made her way to the back of the room.
It was a large enough space that she could just about shut out her sisters’ voices as they continued to discuss the two men.
It was unfair to compare them and Sophia wondered, not for the first time, why her sisters could not see the casual cruelty in their fun.
Or perhaps it was Sophia who was as dry as an old twig, just as Marrisa suggested, and she ought to let their behaviour go.
It wasn’t like she could defend either man for their behaviour this evening. Christopher may well have been trying to make himself objectionable, but putting Robert on the spot had been mean.
As for Robert’s reaction… For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to marry him.
Visiting his home had been like stepping into a bastion of calm and quiet, and Robert, handsome and steady even as a youth, had been at the centre of that tranquillity.
Over the years, their friendship had grown into a deep affection.
She believed she would be content with him and the life they would build in the country.
They’d had enough conversations about their future for her to understand that he wanted the same as her, although he had never made good on that suggestion.
But now, after one evening, did she even want that union any more?
Could she really be with a man who made a point of pointing out another man’s flaws during a dinner party?
And, if she was questioning whether he was wrong for her, for even a moment, what did that mean for her future?
She was one and twenty. She had turned down marriage offers while waiting for Robert.
It wasn’t that she would have accepted them, even if he had not been on the scene – those men had not been right for her either – but what if she was wasting her life waiting for something and it turned out he was not for her after all?
If he wasn’t for her and ending the betrothal with Christopher meant she would become too scandalous to wed, then that meant she would spend her whole life alone.
Her stomach churned, her dinner trying to crawl back up her throat.
She paced the length of the far wall, searching for some kind of answer, because she had absolutely no idea what to do next.
She was staring at the frame of a painting as if it would give her the answers she needed, when a deep voice sounded close by, calling her name. She startled slightly, realising the men must have joined them and she had not noticed.
Turning to face Christopher, who had moved to her side undetected, she saw that his eyes were tight, with none of his usual playfulness shining in them.
Perhaps he was worried for her mind, because being caught staring at an innocuous object was fairly strange in an evening that had been unusual from the beginning.
‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘I did not mean to alarm you by sneaking up on you unawares. I am afraid I rushed the port. I must away, but I did not want to leave before saying farewell to you.’ He dipped his head, his gaze falling for a moment.
‘I also…’ He rubbed his chin, before looking back up at her.
A peculiar jolt shook her heart when his brown eyes met hers.
A not altogether unpleasant sensation, but an odd one, nonetheless.
‘Tonight did not go as I thought it might, and I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable.’
‘I…’ She glanced over his shoulder. The other occupants of the room were observing them with various degrees of subtlety.
Words were bubbling up inside her, questions she thought he might be able to help answer, but she could not express them, not here while they were being watched.
Perhaps never. Telling him he had been instrumental in turning her whole world upside down in the space of one evening might be too strange even for their unconventional relationship.
‘Not at all,’ she said instead. ‘You have been as kind as always.’
His shoulders twitched and he shook his head slightly. ‘Unfortunately, that was not the case today. But we can discuss the details another time. I must leave you now. Goodnight, Sophia.’
He bowed, striding back towards her parents to take his leave of them, not giving her the chance to respond to him even if she’d been able to find the words.
He’d clearly been uncomfortable, and she thought he would rush his goodbyes, but she should have known better.
Christopher was a sociable soul, and he still took time to share a short exchange with everyone.
He even managed a few words to Robert, who smiled back at him, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
Too soon, Peterson held the door open for Christopher, and he stepped over the threshold. Just before it closed behind him, he glanced back at her. Her heart gave a strange leap as their gaze connected and then he was gone.