Chapter Twenty-seven
Christopher’s smile did not light up his face as it normally did; it almost looked like someone had painted it on but whoever had done it had made a bad job of it.
As he moved closer, Sophia saw faint smudges under his eyes and she wondered if he had been up all night remembering their wild carriage ride too.
She dismissed the idea as soon as she thought it.
Unlike her, that had not been his first kiss.
That giddy, pleasurable feeling that had eclipsed all common sense was probably normal to him, nothing special.
A sharp pain cut across her palm. Glancing down, she realised her hands had curled into fists, her nails digging into her skin.
She unfurled them, almost bewildered by herself and the way she was acting.
The sooner she ended her connection with him, the better.
The rage bubbling through her at the thought of Christopher with some faceless woman was ridiculous.
She had no hold over the man; he owed her no loyalty, nor she him.
It would not be long now and it would all be over.
Once she was away from him, her normal equilibrium would be restored.
The thought did nothing to calm her churning stomach.
‘Lord Christopher,’ said Tabitha, once he was bowing in front of them. ‘It is lovely to see you again, but I am afraid I must leave you both. I have been gone a long time and Mama will be wondering where I am.’
Sophia bit her tongue to stop herself from pointing out that barefaced lie.
Tabitha’s mother rarely surfaced before mid-afternoon and only concerned herself with getting ready for that evening’s entertainment.
The whereabouts of her only daughter was not something she ever considered.
Having unconventional parents was something she and Tabitha had first bonded over when they had met.
But to point this out in front of Christopher would lead to more problems than it would solve.
‘I shall ask Peterson to send a maid in as I leave,’ said Tabitha, a fleeting smile crossing her lips, suggesting she was lying about that too.
There was no way Sophia would allow herself to be alone with Christopher for any length of time.
If a chaperone did not turn up soon, Sophia would ring for one.
Last night had proven she couldn’t be trusted without one.
Heaven knew what she would get up to if Christopher gave her half the chance.
She closed her eyes, willing herself not to remember the scrape of his stubble against the sensitive skin of her neck and the press of his fingers against her arms as he held her to him.
These flashes of memory had been hitting her all day and she wanted, needed them to stop.
With Tabitha gone, Christopher’s wide shoulders seemed to take up more space than ever before. His very presence sucked the air out of the room, leaving Sophia short of breath.
Christopher did not sit and he did not speak.
The silence became cavernous.
She smoothed the material of her dress over her thighs, her hands damp. For a man who was always moving and smiling, his unnatural stillness was causing a chill to coat her skin, even as sweat beaded across her brow.
‘I have been thinking,’ he said after an age. ‘And I now believe we should marry.’
‘What?’ she said, shock propelling her off the settee. ‘Where is this asinine statement coming from? Has your brain fallen out of your head? Did you get kicked by your horse on the way here?’ This was everything they had been trying to avoid. ‘No. I will not. No.’
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. ‘Try not to sound too enthusiastic. I would not want to think you find me too appealing.’
She would not be charmed by his dry humour. ‘All along we have agreed that we will find a way out of this betrothal. Why are you changing your mind now?’
He tugged at his cravat and she hated that she recognised this was a sign he was tense. She had never meant to get to know him this well.
‘It is not so much that I have changed my mind,’ he said. ‘It is that…’
She did not let him finish. ‘Oh, so you have always wanted to marry me, have you? Perhaps you have pined for me from across the ballroom floor.’
‘I do not believe I set eyes on you before we met in the conservatory.’ His eyes narrowed and she was strangely pleased to see he was getting annoyed.
‘And yet, I knew who you were.’
He pressed his lips together. This was clearly not going how he had planned, but she was too furious to feel sorry for him.
Why change everything now after all they had been through?
Why throw this into the mix when she had spent so long convincing herself that it was a good thing it was never going to happen?
‘Marriage was not something I thought I would ever do. But I do not think it will be as bad as we both fear.’
If he’d hit her, she did not think it would have hurt as much as his words. ‘As bad as we both fear,’ she echoed.
‘Yes.’ His forehead was an angry slash. ‘You cannot pretend you want to marry me either. When we met, you were focused on another man, for pity’s sake, and you made your thoughts clear last night.’
She had no response to that, so she said nothing, crossing her hands under her chest instead.
He watched her for a moment before continuing in a softer tone, although his shoulders were hunched, the deep frown still marring his forehead.
‘We were naive when this started out, but we must face the facts. The reason we cannot think of a way out of this betrothal is because there is not one that does not end in soul-damaging scandal.’
‘Soul-damaging?’ She would have laughed at him for being dramatic, but there was nothing funny about this conversation.
‘Yes, soul-damaging. You would not be able to live with yourself if, by breaking off our betrothal, your sisters’ marriage prospects were ruined and your family shunned by polite society.
Even little Lotte might suffer from the association.
The Mrs Meadways of the Ton have long memories and rejoice in making others suffer. ’
The room spun slowly, almost like she’d had a glass of that dreadful brandy.
Her sisters hurting because of her actions would be awful, but she also could not live with herself if she ruined Christopher’s chances of happiness too.
To be married to a miserable man, one she’d known as a happy and carefree one, would be torture.
It was all very well being fun together these last few weeks, but she was quiet and contemplative most of the time; he would be bored with her within days of their marriage and she would have to suffer through the knowledge that she wasn’t right for him, for the rest of her life.
It was bad enough living with her family when they felt like that about her; it would be hell with Christopher.
This was an impossible situation with no pure happy ending.
‘I still think,’ she said, striving for a calmness she didn’t feel, ‘that, if we handle the situation sensitively, we can avoid having to get married. Perhaps a long, long betrothal, one that stretches far into the future. In fact’—she finally hit on a solution that would suit everyone.
It was a miracle she had not thought of it before, it was that obvious—’this is the answer we have been looking for.
You go off on your travels and we say that we will marry on your return.
In the meantime, my sisters will marry and then we can call off our betrothal. ’
Christopher scrubbed a hand down his face, not looking at all pleased. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t leaping around the room with joy. It was perfect for him. He got to do what he wanted and he would not tie himself down for her.
‘That could last for ten years or more,’ he said, sounding weary. Honestly, you would think she had suggested he cut off a limb. Shouldn’t he be praising her for coming up with a resolution that worked for everyone?
‘Well, it is not as though you wanted to get married to anyone else. You said that you…’
He groaned. ‘Let us not think of your sisters or me for one moment. Let us think about you. In your plan, you will wait ten years and by this point your sisters are all happily married. I have had a grand old time on my tour of Europe and you have done…’ He spread out his hands as though her plans for the next few years were laid out in front of them.
‘I have had several Seasons in which I have not been a pariah. I have enjoyed myself and become an aunt to several adorable nieces and nephews. I…’
‘The best you want for yourself is to not be a pariah.’ His words were like tiny darts aimed at her heart.
‘There is no other option.’
‘Yes. There is.’ His voice was firm, his tone forceful.
In all the time she had known him, she had never seen him so serious.
‘We get married. Your sisters’ marriage prospects get even better because they are now permanently linked to the Duke of Glanmore.
You are socially accepted everywhere. You can have your choice of house wherever you want.
I am a rich man and have more money coming my way. You will want for nothing.’
Her heart beat painfully against her rib cage.
He was talking of things that meant nothing to her, not really.
If he had said he loved her, or even that he was glad of their friendship and welcomed the idea of spending their lives together, then this would be a very different conversation.
She could stomach this if it were not done because one of them would have less to lose.
‘If we are talking of sacrifices, then what of your travels?’
He swallowed and stared at a spot over her shoulder. ‘I can still go.’
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing.
Her eyes started to burn; she blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry.
For some reason, it was important to her not to show this weakness in front of him.
Her mind raced, trying and failing to come up with a better alternative because, deep down, she knew there wasn’t one.
Instead of focusing on her heart breaking, she should be grateful that Christopher was a kind man who would do this for her and not someone who would not care about walking away from the mess.
An empty marriage was far from what she wanted for her life and yet what he was saying did make sense.
Her family would not be ostracised from Society.
She would not have to banish herself to a lonely existence in the country.
Christopher was right that he could still travel.
He could be gone for years. There were plenty of wives in the Ton who rarely saw their husbands.
There would be no scandal. No drama. At least not on the outside.
On the inside, this marriage had the potential to hurt her more than anything.
The long betrothal she had suggested would feel like a mutual decision; his disappearing for a long time would feel like an abandonment.
Yet, she could not dismiss his suggestion out of pride, not if the alternative was to condemn everyone in their immediate circle to a life of scandal.
Somewhere deep inside her, she recognised that she should be grateful towards Christopher for stepping up when it mattered, but it didn’t stop her heart hurting.
She hadn’t wanted Christopher’s life to change because of their betrothal and now it was going to irrevocably.
Her breathing was shuddery, but at least when she spoke, her voice sounded calm. ‘Very well, I accept your suggestion.’
Saying the words out loud was like stepping off a cliff. The room seemed to spin around her, as if she were falling and spiralling into nothingness. Life was never going to be the same again.