Chapter 13
A stablehand offered Sophie assistance to climb onto her horse, but before she could accept his help, Nicholas displaced him.
“Allow me,” he said, claiming her hand and steadying her as she put her foot in the stirrup and positioned herself as comfortably as possible on the sidesaddle. Everywhere he touched, tingles raced through her body, and her stomach fluttered uncontrollably.
Stop it, she chastised herself. You’re supposed to be moving on from him, not mooning over him.
As a distraction, she focused on the way the sidesaddle felt beneath her bottom. It must have been a man who designed sidesaddles because she doubted any woman would create something so impractical.
Unfortunately, society demanded that she use one when riding in London. Whenever she was in the country, she gleefully rode astride.
In order to occupy herself so she wouldn’t stare at Nicholas as he mounted his horse, she rearranged her skirt. She’d made the mistake of watching him do so before, and the way his clothing strained against his leanly muscled body was practically indecent.
Once he’d settled astride, she guided Dandelion toward the street. “Thank you for inviting me to ride. I’m looking forward to being out and about.”
Once again, the weather was lovely, and flowers were blooming in the greenery at the center of the square, so she was certain the park would be stunning.
Nicholas guided his handsome brown gelding alongside Dandelion.
“You’re very welcome. Our goal is to have it be seen that I’m courting you, and I won’t have anyone claim that I’m a boring suitor.
Walking is for the Mr. Garfield’s of the world.
It requires no initiative. Riding is much more interesting, and makes it easier to avoid people you don’t wish to converse with. ”
Sophie giggled and checked over her shoulder to make sure that Betsy was staying in sight behind them. “I can’t deny that.”
Nicholas glanced over. “It would be better if I could take you to Hensley, but I doubt your parents would approve, so you’ll have to settle for a jaunt on Rotten Row.”
Her heart pumped faster at the idea of attending the races. She wished she could tell him to ignore her parents’ concerns and take her there anyway. For once, it would be wonderful to do what she wanted rather than what everyone else thought she ought to.
But Nicholas was already going out of his way for her, and she didn’t want to put him in a difficult situation by asking for more. That would be selfish.
They turned onto Rotten Row, and Sophie gasped. Daffodils and primroses stretched in all directions, beautifully bright and cheerful beneath the blue sky. A few tulips had popped up here and there, their petals open to the sun.
Spring truly was her favorite time of year.
There were only a few other riders in the area, and she allowed herself to hope that they might stretch their horses’ legs a little. She adored the feeling of the wind in her face as Dandelion picked up speed.
“How are your courtships coming along?” Nicholas asked, drawing her attention away from their surroundings.
If any other gentleman had asked, Sophie wouldn’t have answered, but considering their unusual arrangement, she owed him a response.
“As you know, Mr. Garfield is interested, but I don’t favor him at all, and I hope I’ve made that clear.
I’ve seen the colonel again since we last spoke.
He’s interested in music, and I think he might eventually consider me as a possible bride, but he seems in no rush to court anyone, and I’m running out of time. ”
“Colonel Moore has a lot to learn before he can be confident in his ability to manage land and provide for a family,” Nicholas said.
Sophie nodded. She understood that, but it was frustrating that their timelines didn’t coincide better because, while he was more reserved in his attentions than Baron Sylvestor, she found him more intriguing. He had depths that the baron didn’t.
“And Baron Sylvestor?” His tone was strangely hesitant. “He’s attentive, and I doubt anyone would be unhappy with him as a match.”
“That seems to be progressing well,” she admitted, hoping he wouldn’t see it as a reason to end their fake courtship. She enjoyed spending extra time with him. “Are you certain you’re willing to attend the house party? You were adamant in your refusal at first.”
“I am.” He guided his horse into a trot, and Sophie followed suit, picking up the pace. “My concerns stemmed primarily from private family matters, but I’ve discussed them with my brother, and he practically ordered me to go.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He’d had to be ordered to assist her?
Did that mean he’d rather not?
She didn’t want him with her purely out of duty to the Viscount. In fact, she wouldn’t tolerate it.
“Do you need me to speak with Theodore?” she demanded, her insides a seething mass of insecurities and ugly emotions. “If I tell him I no longer require your assistance, I’m sure he’ll rescind the order.”
To her surprise, Nicholas chuckled. “Calm down, firebrand. I don’t need you stomping into my brother’s office and demanding an audience with him. I misspoke. He merely cleared the obstacles so I could agree to go with you. He would never force me into anything.”
“Are you sure? I won’t have anyone misusing you. Even on my behalf.”
“I’m sure, Sophie.”
Heat fizzed low in her abdomen. He’d called her by her first name, without any kind of title before it. She couldn’t recall him ever doing so before, and it created a level of familiarity she longed for with her whole being.
She cleared her throat and urged Dandelion faster, the hoofbeats loud enough that she had to raise her voice to be heard over them. “Then shall we make a plan of action for the house party?”
Rich laughter filled the air as he drew alongside her, quickly catching up. “What diabolical schemes do you have in mind?”
Reluctantly, she slowed again so that they could speak more easily.
Over the next half hour, they plotted. They discussed how much time she should endeavor to spend with him versus the baron, how she might signal him if she wanted him to either leave or come to her rescue, and the best ways for her to encourage the baron to court her in earnest.
Once they were satisfied, Nicholas sent her a wicked grin and urged his gelding into a canter. Sophie laughed, her spirits soaring, and encouraged Dandelion to do the same.
Neither spoke as they flew through the park, the flowers forming colorful banners in the corners of Sophie’s eyes as they blurred together.
A group of riders appeared ahead, and she slowed, glancing sideways and admiring the high flush on Nicholas’s cheeks and the roguish way his hair—which had been tied back—came loose and fell around his shoulders.
Her heart gave a pang. He was so handsome. So full of vitality and fun. Exactly what she wanted from life.
But he wasn’t hers, and he never would be.
“If we were racing, I’d definitely have won,” she said breathlessly, slowing Dandelion further so they didn’t make the horses ahead of them nervous by approaching too rapidly.
Nicholas laughed. “Riding sidesaddle? I don’t think so.”
She arched her eyebrow in challenge. “Then we’ll have to race again when polite society doesn’t require such things.”
He met her gaze and winked. “I look forward to it.”
A warm, bubbly feeling blossomed within her, and she dragged her eyes away from him.
It’s fake, she reminded herself. You aren’t actually courting.
How was she supposed to remember that when he looked at her like she enchanted him?
“It must be time to get you back home.” He stopped his gelding and guided him around to face the other way.
Reluctantly, Sophie followed suit.
They kept a more sedate pace on the return journey—a fact for which she was grateful when they encountered Lady Talbot—one of the ton’s more notorious gossips.
Lord knew what rumors she’d have spread if she’d witnessed them romping about earlier.
They’d almost reached the street when a familiar figure came into view.
The woman was perched on a black mare, but she moved stiffly and clearly wasn’t a natural in the saddle.
Her black hair was streaked with gray and arranged in a simple chignon.
Her features were slightly harsh and resembled her sons’.
If not for Nicholas’s quick intake of breath, Sophie might have thought that he and the dowager viscountess had planned this encounter. It seemed unlikely to have happened coincidentally.
Lady Blackwell tugged on the reins, huffing as her horse halted. Sophie stopped Dandelion and stroked her neck, waiting for Nicholas to take the lead in this conversation.
“Mother.” He didn’t sound pleased to see her. “I didn’t know you intended to ride today. It must have been years since you ventured out on horseback.”
“For good reason.” She looked down her nose disapprovingly. “I’d forgotten how uncomfortable it is. After this, I believe I will refrain. There’s nothing wrong with a good carriage. So much more civilized.”
“You do like things to be civilized,” Nicholas remarked.
His tone made the comment seem offhanded, but Sophie suspected there was an underlying conflict she wasn’t privy to. For a man who was usually warm and friendly, he was responding to his mother almost coolly.
“Good afternoon, Lady Blackwell,” Sophie said, hoping to ease the tension. “Isn’t it the perfect day to be out and about?”
Lady Blackwell pursed her lips. “Some might say that.” She glanced from Sophie to Nicholas.
“I’d heard that you were courting, but you’ve been around the house so rarely that I haven’t been able to confirm.
” The corner of her eye twitched. “If I were someone else, I might be inclined to think you were avoiding me.”
“Never,” Nicholas said.
Sophie didn’t believe him, and she doubted Lady Blackwell did either. His tone was flat and his words rang false.
Lady Blackwell eyed them. “Yes, well, I was forced to confirm for myself if I wanted answers, so here I am.”
“Here you are,” Nicholas echoed.
Sophie fidgeted, aware that something was going on, but she had no idea what. Was Lady Blackwell upset that Nicholas was pretending to court Sophie? If so, why?
Or was it possible that Lady Blackwell didn’t know the courtship was fake?
Either way, Sophie didn’t understand why she would care. Her son was a man of marriageable age. Surely it wasn’t so impossible that he would court someone.
Or was it Sophie herself that she found objectionable?
There was no scandal attached to Sophie’s name, but her sisters, on the other hand, did have something of a reputation. That said, Emma was a duchess, so people usually overlooked the scandal. After all, dukes and duchesses could do no wrong.
Perhaps it was simply that no one had told Lady Blackwell what was going on, and she didn’t like to be left in the dark.
The silence dragged on painfully.
Eventually, Lady Blackwell broke it. “I hope you’re being judicious.”
“Of course I am,” Nicholas said.
Sophie was lost.
“We were on our way home.” Nicholas motioned to the park entrance. “Since you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, perhaps you’d like to accompany us.”
Sophie’s mouth twitched, but she managed not to grimace. She would prefer that her time with Nicholas not be interrupted, but clearly she wasn’t getting everything she wanted today.
“Yes, I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Lady Blackwell said.
Awkwardly, she turned her horse around. The four of them guided their horses down the path, onto the street, and the rest of the way back to Carlisle House.
Nicholas and Lady Blackwell lingered while a stablehand helped Sophie down from Dandelion, but then mother and son departed, neither of them speaking, both looking straight ahead.
“What do you suppose that was about?” Sophie asked Betsy as the maid dismounted.
Betsy smoothed her skirt and rolled her shoulders back as if to dislodge knots in the muscle. “I couldn’t say, my lady. Mr. Blackwell seems a decent sort, but I’ll never understand the likes of Lady Blackwell.”
Sophie snorted. “Nor will I.”
She waited for the stablehand to take the horses, and then she and Betsy climbed the stairs and pushed the heavy door open to enter.
Sophie considered going directly upstairs to change out of her riding attire, but her mother had asked for a report on the outing as soon as she returned, so instead she traipsed through the house until she found Lady Carlisle in a drawing room.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Lady Carlisle asked as Sophie wandered closer. She was doing some sort of needlework, but Sophie couldn’t tell what it was. She didn’t have much patience for that sort of thing herself, although she admired those who did.
“The first part of the outing was great fun.” She smiled at the memory of how she’d laughed at the top of her lungs as the breeze stirred her hair and the sun shone on her face. “But then the strangest thing happened. Lady Blackwell found us while we were on Rotten Row.”
Lady Carlisle’s hands paused, the needle in one poised to make another stitch. “That is unusual.”
Sophie hesitated, uncertain whether she was sticking her nose where it ought not to be, as she was prone to doing. “Is there a reason why the dowager viscountess would disapprove of me as a prospective wife for Mr. Blackwell?”
At that, her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Did she say something untoward?”
Sophie shook her head. “I got the impression she disapproves of our courtship. I wasn’t sure if it was me she disapproved of or him courting anyone in general.”
“You have been above reproach.” Lady Carlisle set her needlework aside. “I don’t see any reason why she would disapprove of you. You are lively, yes, but you behave well in social settings, and you’re an earl’s daughter. Mr. Blackwell is an untitled second son. He would do very well to marry you.”
Sophie blinked rapidly, the backs of her eyes hot. Did her mother really feel that way? As if Sophie was a prize?
She’d never said as much.
“As to whether there’s a valid reason why she might not want Mr. Blackwell to wed at all, I can’t think of any, but I’ll ask around.”
“No, please don’t. I don’t want to cause him any problems.”
Her mother nodded in understanding. “Very well. Let me know if you change your mind.”
Sophie doubted she would. Her innate curiosity meant she wanted to know what was going on but not if digging around would cause any issues for Nicholas.
That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to earn his confidence.