Chapter 5
“Lady Blackwell is here to see you, my lady,” the butler said from the doorway of the drawing room. “Shall I show her in?”
Sophie nodded. “Yes, please, Samuels.”
Nerves tangled in her gut as she rose from the chaise and poured tea from the pot into two cups, preparing Kate’s as she knew she preferred it and adding a little sugar to her own.
She angled the chaise slightly away from the window as the sun was streaming in, and, with the relatively pale decor, the glare was harsh to her eyes.
Samuels returned with Kate, bowed, and closed the door behind himself as he left.
Sophie gestured to the teacup she’d prepared for her friend. “Thank you for coming. Please help yourself to tea and biscuits.”
Sophie didn’t drink from her own cup. If she did, her hand would likely shake, and she’d spill tea all over herself. She was miserable enough without adding to the situation.
“Why did you ask me to call on you today?” Kate asked, lowering herself onto the chaise and picking up the delicate teacup with the kind of grace that Sophie could only dream of possessing. “Your letter made it sound urgent.”
“I’m afraid it is.” Sophie sighed and reached for a biscuit as she mulled over how to articulate her predicament. “Upon arriving home from the ball last night, my parents took me aside and issued me with an ultimatum.”
Kate set her cup down and frowned. “An ultimatum?”
Sophie swallowed. “Yes. I’ve been ordered to choose a husband this season or else they’ll do so for me.”
Perhaps she was being slightly overdramatic. They did say they’d allow her to select from a range of options, but the overall effect was the same. She’d have to marry someone she didn’t love.
“Oh, Sophie.” Kate’s face fell, and she reached for Sophie’s hand. The warm, surprisingly firm grip was so comforting that she wanted to press herself up against her friend and cry. “I’m so sorry. Did they say who they have in mind?”
“No names were mentioned.”
“Surely it wouldn’t be anyone terrible,” Kate said, as if that was supposed to make her feel better.
While Sophie would be grateful not to have a spiteful, violent husband, she also didn’t relish the prospect of slowly withering away from a lack of care and affection for—or from—the person she would spend the rest of her life with.
“It won’t be Nicholas.” Her tone was bleak. As hollow as the cavity in her chest. “And if I can’t marry Nicholas, I won’t be happy.”
Kate made a sound of distress. “You will still have me. We can spend all our hours together.”
Sophie tried to summon a smile. “That’s very sweet of you, but you have a husband and a child, and I wouldn’t take you from them.” The pit of her gut was heavy. “Are you sure that Nicholas won’t marry?”
If he wouldn’t, she could foresee only two options. One: She’d have to choose her own husband—who, as she’d said, wouldn’t be Nicholas. Or two: Her parents would choose a husband for her, who also wouldn’t be Nicholas.
Either way, she wouldn’t have the man she wanted.
But if she were to make her own decision, she could at least exercise some control over her fate.
First, she had to be sure that she truly had no chance at persuading Nicholas to change his stance.
“I can’t be certain,” Kate began, giving her hand a light squeeze, “but he seems set on it. Perhaps you ought to speak to him on the matter.”
“And admit my feelings?” Sophie asked, aghast. “If he is against marriage as you say, then he might start avoiding me if I were to make my interest in him any clearer than it already is.”
After all, the only person who seemed oblivious to her feelings for Nicholas was Nicholas himself.
“There are… things you are not aware of in play.” Kate’s face twisted uncomfortably. “Things that might alter his stance if he had good motivation to do so.”
Sophie cocked her head. Nicholas had secrets? How intriguing. “Such as?”
Kate looked away. “It isn’t my place to say.”
“Not even if your best friend’s happiness is on the line?” Sophie’s heart constricted. Did she really mean so little to Kate?
Kate squirmed and refused to meet her gaze. “Speak to Nicholas. That’s my advice.” She picked up a biscuit and took a bite, remaining silent as she chewed and swallowed. “Do you truly care so deeply about him? You know I adore him, but you must admit that he can be reckless and irresponsible.”
“I know that.” Sophie refrained from pointing out that she herself could also be considered both of those things. “But he makes me laugh like no one else, and he never judges me if I don’t comport myself as a lady ‘ought to’ according to society’s strictures.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Kate acknowledged, her gray eyes catching Sophie’s. “But assuming he isn’t an option—which I wouldn’t do, if I were you, until you’ve directly asked him about it—then are there any gentlemen you would consider marrying? Baron Sylvestor, perhaps?”
Sophie disentangled her hand from Kate’s. She drew in a slow breath and, satisfied that her nerves were under control, picked up her teacup and sipped. She grimaced. It was slightly too sweet. She must have been distracted and added more sugar than she’d meant to.
Hopefully she hadn’t ruined Kate’s tea too. Her friend would be too polite to say so.
“Baron Sylvestor seems warm and friendly,” Sophie said, sipping her tea again just to have something to do. “As my mother has pointed out, he is well regarded by his peers, and he dotes on the dowager. As far as I know, they aren’t poor. I believe he would treat his wife well.”
“But could you marry him?” Kate prompted.
Sophie didn’t know. Everything in her rebelled at the thought, but, if she were backed into a corner and marriage to him was the best way out, could she go through with it?
Probably.
“I think so,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes unexpectedly. She swiped at them and sniffed, horrified to be falling apart when they were trying to have a useful discussion. “I’m sorry.”
Kate took the teacup from her and placed it back on the table, then intertwined their fingers. “You have every right to be upset. Do you wish to stop talking about this?”
Sophie shook her head. “Ignoring the problem won’t make it go away, and you’re far more sensible than I am. It will be good to hear your thoughts.”
“All right, then.”
They sat quietly together as tears tracked down Sophie’s cheeks and dripped onto her chest, dampening the fabric. After a couple of minutes, the tears slowed, and Sophie wiped her face with a handkerchief.
“Who else might I consider?” she asked, doing her best to be brave when she wanted to curl into a ball and ask Kate to just fix this for her somehow.
Kate hummed thoughtfully. “What about the Adair brothers? At least two remain unmarried.”
“No.” Sophie would not consider them, no matter how pleasant they might seem. If one brother had no backbone, it seemed likely the others wouldn’t either.
“Beyond the new Duke of Wight—whom we know nothing about—there are no other single dukes currently on the market. What of the Marquess of Overton?”
Sophie pulled a face. “He’s dreadfully dull.”
“But he’s handsome, polite, and incredibly wealthy,” Kate pointed out.
“Overton does not interest me. Nor do other gentlemen like him.” At least Baron Sylvestor displayed some personality.
Kate tapped her chin, lifting her gaze to the ceiling.
Sophie smirked, wondering what could be so fascinating up there.
“If you will not consider gentlemen such as Overton, what about a decorated military man. Colonel Moore entered society this season and is reportedly seeking a wife. He’s a viscount’s brother, I believe, and apparently very handsome. ”
Recognition flared, and Sophie’s heart leapt. “Is he the striking older gentlemen with the eyes like glowing emeralds who is always wearing military regalia?”
Kate grinned slyly. “I believe he has green eyes, yes. And dark hair shot through with silver. Very distinguished.”
Now that was a man in whom Sophie could potentially summon interest. She’d only sighted him briefly across a ballroom, but the combination of craggy features and those vivid eyes had stayed with her.
His mouth had quirked at the corners as if he had a sense of humor that many high-ranked military personnel did not, in Sophie’s opinion.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “I believe I would be open to military men. Provided my parents would accept the match, of course.”
Surely they wouldn’t object to a viscount’s brother. Especially not one held in high regard by the king.
The trouble was, Colonel Moore may be in search of a bride, but if so, he hadn’t been searching in the places she’d been. Other than that one event, she’d never laid eyes on him. How, then, was she supposed to gain his attention?
“Let’s see what more we can learn of the colonel,” Kate suggested. “Just because he is handsome doesn’t mean he’s a good person. Perhaps he’s a terrible bore or the type of man who thinks women should be seen and not heard.”
Sophie winced and inclined her head. “Agreed. I wouldn’t do well married to someone like that.”
“So, shall we consider the baron to be the current frontrunner while we further investigate the colonel?” Kate asked.
Sophie nodded, though this was progressing more quickly than she’d have liked.
Logically, she knew it made sense to put a plan in place to secure her own future, but she hadn’t yet fully resigned herself to the reality of never being with Nicholas.
It was difficult to accept the idea of marriage to any other man.
Kate refilled her teacup. “Do you have any ideas as to how you’ll convince these men to court you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were popular during your prior seasons, but you’re beginning to get a reputation as being choosy—not that there’s anything wrong with that, but the gentlemen you’ve already turned down might tell the others not to waste their time with you.”