Chapter Twenty-three
In the melee of the ballroom, Christopher and Freddie had found Edward, but if Tobias had deigned to come, it was not clear.
He certainly wasn’t on the dance floor or taking part in any of the card games.
They’d lost the women to dance partners not long after arriving, although Sophia was taking a break from it now.
‘Instead of mooning over Miss Jacobs, you could go and talk to her,’ said Edward, clearly not over the argument from a few days ago if his acerbic comment was anything to go by.
‘I am not mooning. I am merely…’
‘Watching her every move,’ finished Freddie unhelpfully.
‘Like a lovesick calf,’ added Edward, flashing a grin towards Freddie, who smiled evilly in response.
Sometimes having brothers was the worst thing imaginable.
That they were in the middle of the Albrighton soiree surrounded by people on every side made retaliation impossible.
It was not as if he could swear at them or even offer mild insults in response.
He was going to have to behave like a gentleman for at least a few more hours. Damn them.
‘I can see you are trying to enact revenge for the times you both made cakes of yourself over the women who are now your wives, but it will not work. My relationship with Sophia is not the same. I am not in love with her or in any danger of that happening.’
Edward and Freddie exchanged glances. ‘If you say so,’ said Edward.
‘I told you that he is expecting a Mr Harber to ask her to marry her,’ said Freddie to Edward as if Christopher were no longer there.
‘You did, but surely that was at the start of this. There is no way he would be so idiotic as to continue with that plan now.’
‘You and I can see the foolishness in allowing this Mr Harber the freedom to court his betrothed, but can he?’
‘I am still here,’ said Christopher, managing not to snarl at them, but it was a hard-fought battle with his self-control.
‘So you are.’ Both brothers slowly studied him, looking more alike than Christopher had ever noticed before.
‘Really you should be over there.’ Freddie nodded to where Sophia was having an animated discussion with her friend Tabitha. ‘At least, that is what your eyes are suggesting, given that they have not looked anywhere else in the last half an hour.’
‘It has not been that long.’ He knew it hadn’t been, because twenty minutes ago she had been dancing with a man older than Christopher.
He didn’t know him well, he couldn’t quite remember his name, but he thought he hadn’t looked like a man with good intentions, if his leer was anything to go by.
It had taken great restraint not to rush over and cut in.
The only thing tethering him to his restraint was seeing Sophia offer her polite smile all the way through, making it obvious she was not taken in by the bounder.
Once the dance had ended, he thought she had not taken the man up on a request to join him at the refreshment table; at least that was what Christopher had gathered from the man’s arm gesture.
Not that Christopher was watching intently, but someone had to keep an eye on Sophia and her safety and he didn’t think her family did that enough.
If they had, perhaps she wouldn’t have been compromised into a marriage with him.
Now, Sophia was doing most of the talking, her hands waving around in the air as she described something, Tabitha nodding along and appearing to ask the occasional question.
Quite a few men had tried to approach them, presumably to ask for a dance, but neither woman had turned away from the conversation and their possible dance partners had eventually given up.
Christopher couldn’t blame those who had tried to carve out a moment of Sophia’s time.
She looked particularly well tonight. The green dress complemented the colour of her skin and the way her curls had been arranged made him want to run his fingers through them, but it wasn’t just the way she looked.
In a packed ballroom, it was as if she were sparkling with light.
A man he knew to be a devilish rogue walked towards her, his eyes intent on his prey.
A hot, molten rage whipped through Christopher and he staggered slightly under the force of it.
Where the hell had that come from? He could not be jealous.
He was resigned to the idea of Sophia marrying Robert Harber.
No, not resigned; that suggested he was giving up something, when he was happy for her to marry the man she loved.
Although this line of thought was turning his rage white-hot.
Even Sophia turning politely away from the rakehell didn’t seem to quell it.
He tugged on his cravat; his valet must have arranged it differently this evening because the material was trying to strangle him.
Maybe he should go over to Sophia; she was the only one in this room who was consistently able to make him laugh, unlike the two men opposite him, who just made him want to throw things because they were so damned irritating all the time.
‘I am going to talk to her.’
‘Finally,’ said Freddie.
‘A word of advice,’ said Edward.
‘I do not want any.’
Edward ignored him. ‘Do not glare at her like that.’
‘The only person I am glaring at is you.’
‘That would be difficult, given that you are not looking in my direction.’
‘Fine. Because of you then.’
‘But I am your dear brother. I have done nothing wrong.’
‘There is nothing dear about you. You have always been my least favourite.’ That wasn’t true.
He and Edward had always got along well enough before they had both returned to living at Glanmore House to help raise their niece.
Since they had been living together, Christopher would go so far as to say they were friends, except when Edward was being annoying, which was most of the time.
He shot a look at both of his brothers and, to his disgust, found them both sniggering. He did not bother to say goodbye to them before walking off.
He had not got far when a good friend stopped him. ‘Chris. It has been a while.’
‘Graham, it has indeed.’ Christopher realised it had been many weeks since he had last seen the man, so long ago he could not remember when they had last spoken.
Until recently, they had not gone more than a few days before running into one another in the same social circles, but he hadn’t even noticed Graham’s absence from his life.
Guilt hit him like a punch in the stomach, followed quickly by the realisation that he didn’t particularly want to speak to him now.
This conversation, which he had to have because he was not evil, was delaying him from reaching Sophia’s side. ‘How are you, my friend?’
‘I cannot complain,’ said Graham, bobbing his head up and down, looking remarkably like a chicken. ‘As for you, I have heard a rumour that you are getting leg-shackled. Say it is not so.’
He was not about to blurt out the truth to Graham; the man had a loose tongue that became practically unhinged when he was in his cups. ‘I am engaged to be married, yes.’
‘Really? Is the Dashworth fortune in trouble? Have you had to tie yourself down with some cit?’
Had Graham always been this appallingly rude or was it the alcohol Christopher could smell on his breath that was making him talk with such disrespectful foulness? ‘Nothing of the sort,’ he said. ‘I am betrothed to Sophia Jacobs.’
Graham wrinkled his nose. ‘Jacobs… Oh, I know. The family has a lot of girls. The younger ones are known for being slightly wild and the older slightly prim and dull. How did you manage to fall into that trap?’
Christopher’s hand curled into a fist. He could not punch Graham, not in front of all these people. He couldn’t call him out either without exposing what the man had said about Sophia and thereby drawing attention to something he was sure she would prefer hidden.
‘Hey, Ashburton, come here.’ Graham was waving over another of their associates. The cravat that had been trying to strangle Christopher earlier grew tighter still.
‘Chris,’ called Ashburton, a new wave of alcohol-smelling breath hitting Christopher. ‘It is good to see you. I was only saying earlier how dull this Season has been because you seem to have dropped off the face of the Earth.’
‘He is betrothed,’ said Graham, laughing on the final word.
‘I heard something along those lines, but I did not believe it. Christopher Dashworth ensnared by one woman.’ Ashburton guffawed as though he had never heard anything so preposterous. ‘Are you going to spend your nights in now? Perhaps you will take up reading the newspaper.’
‘I have always read the newspaper,’ said Christopher, wondering how he normally enjoyed the company of these two men.
He was sure there had been a time when the three of them had laughed so hard, tears had fallen down his face.
That seemed impossible now. ‘It is the only way to find out what is going on in the world.’
The two men laughed, but Christopher had been serious.
Just because he liked a good lark, didn’t mean he didn’t keep up with current affairs.
He could not have made his investments without knowing what was happening in the wider community.
He assumed that all his friends were the same in private; there was nothing funny about their behaviour.
‘What are you both doing here?’ he asked, desperate to get away from them and hoping this would provide a polite opportunity to move away.