Chapter 22
Edward groaned. This situation really was impossible, he couldn't help thinking, as his valet helped him to dress for dinner.
Sophia was always in his thoughts when he wasn't with her.
No matter how hard he tried to stop seeing her face, and dare he say it, replace her image with Lucy.
He just couldn't seem to do it, and seemed now to not even be trying to divert his attention elsewhere.
In his entire life he had never been attracted so much to a woman, as he was to Miss Sophia Barlow.
However the Earl of Duxbury's intimation that he should marry Lucy, his daughter, still sat uncomfortably at the back of Edward's mind.
If he couldn't marry Sophia, that didn't mean he had to make a proposal for Lucy's hand or did it?
Mama would get the daughter-in-law she craved, and a business alliance with the Earl would most likely be beneficial.
He would have to make a decision on whether to proceed with it very soon.
Even Lucy and her mama were clearly expecting him to reveal his intentions.
Nevertheless, irrespective of the offer of Lucy's hand in marriage made by her father and not of course losing sight of how beautiful she was which had confused him initially, Edward knew deep down that his heart was still set on Sophia.
She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
No one else. That is if he had been able to choose her.
Whereas if he was to pursue a marriage to Lady Lucy Exley, any sort of relationship with Sophia would definitely be out of the question.
So he would need to ask her to leave Carlfield.
Something which he was finding increasingly difficult to accept, but there wasn't any alternative as far as he could see.
Despite his mother's nonchalant attitude to a scandal, and whilst he may secretly agree with her and not be in the least concerned about himself, he could never subject Sophia to anything like that.
It would be highly improper, and very wrong.
A little later with his grey silk cravat tied properly by the valet and wearing his favourite cologne which smelt predominantly of bergamot, musk, and cedar the Duke made his way downstairs to the drawing room.
He was standing next to the window, aimlessly staring at the rain and wondering why life couldn't be more straightforward, when Sophia followed his mother into the room.
It took Edward a moment or two to catch his breath.
Completely overwhelmed by how stunning Sophia looked in what seemed to be a new gown.
It was exquisitely trimmed with the finest antique lace, dyed pale lemon, with a drawstring ribbon of a similar colour beneath the bodice to accentuate her willowy figure.
The pearls she wore were equally stunning, and quite valuable, he thought.
Making him wonder briefly who had given them to her.
Surely not another gentleman! The thought brought the heat of jealousy once again to his cheeks.
Feeling entirely consumed by her presence the Duke felt an urgent need to know everything about her, and frustration when he recalled once again that this simply wasn't possible.
Or his place to do so, other than if it was something which affected her employment.
When Sophia curtsied to him in the most enchanting way he had ever seen, Cynthia was smiling broadly as she watched them both, with a sense of satisfaction and pride.
Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she said, "Ned, doesn't Sophia look charming, and so beautiful this evening?
Please tell her that she does. She is wearing one of the dresses I had in my younger days.
Florence and Effie have worked wonders with it.
Don't you agree?" Not waiting for him to reply, which he was exceedingly pleased about, she went on to say that Sophia would most definitely steal a few hearts when their guests arrived and she read her poem later.
Making Sophia blush, and look down at the rug in embarrassment.
Not for the first time, the Duke wished that his mother could be a little more tactful.
Her suggestion that Sophia would steal a few hearts tonight really was unacceptable.
Especially if she received the reaction from some of the ladies of the ton he feared she might.
Also looking as beautiful as she did in such an exquisite gown wouldn’t help her case once jealousy reared its ugly head.
Given how much the Duchess clearly liked her new companion, he sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t distress Sophia so much that she decided to leave Carlfield house.
Admitting guiltily then to himself that this would be for his own sake, as much as for his mother's.
Meanwhile, Sophia was also feeling guilty but about her deception.
She realised how much Cynthia had become attached to her, in all of the kindnesses she had shown.
Even appointing Effie as her maid, and now, filling the wardrobe in her bedchamber with new clothes which were truly beautiful.
Far too good for a servant, and someone whom the Duchess barely knew.
Cynthia had insisted earlier that she wear one of her gowns for the recital, which the two maids had sat far into the night altering for her.
Sophia also felt more than a little confused by all of this attention.
It was almost as if the Duchess considered she was more to her than just an employer.
Sophia's heart missed a beat. It was as if she felt like a mother to her, but that surely couldn't be the case.
Her heart began to ache then, simply thinking about it, and the loss of her own mama.
Finding it so overwhelming that her hand grasped her mother's pearls, trying to seek comfort from them.
At the same time being very grateful for Lady Cynthia's affection.
It wasn't long however before all of them were distracted by Jenkins' polite cough, which was a prelude to him announcing the arrival of the Earl and Countess of Duxbury, accompanied by Lady Lucy Exley.
Sophia felt herself trying to shrink into her new gown, so that she didn't appear quite as conspicuous as she now felt, and did her best to blend into the background.
Quite forgetting that this wouldn't be possible, since she was still standing between Lady Cynthia and Ned.
Not apart from them. Also because she did look absolutely stunning in the Duchess' silk gown.
The Earl looked at her on this occasion with raised eyebrows, causing her to wonder what was going through his mind.
Not being aware of the proposal he had suggested Edward make for his daughter's hand in marriage, she assumed the worst, and that he had guessed her secret.
Sophia paled as she lowered her eyes, unable to meet his stare any longer.
The best she could do to get through the evening, she told herself quite sternly, would be not to overthink any of it.
Despite how alarmed she already felt. Even worse she had sensed the tension within Edward, before he stepped forward to greet their guests.
The Duke was also at a disadvantage, without him realising it, and because he was equally unaware of what was going through the Earl's thoughts.
The truth of the matter was actually quite different.
Howard Exley had a penchant for alcohol, and gambling which was out of control.
With the result that although the matter still remained relatively unknown in the ton, he was actually on the verge of filing for bankruptcy.
Recently deciding that the only way he could avoid the disgrace of being sent to a debtors' prison was if he could persuade the Duke of Carlfield, whom everyone knew was exceedingly rich, to merge their two families by marrying Lucy.
In a drunken stupor one evening it had even crossed his mind that he could wager her hand on a set of cards he felt certain would win him the game, and a considerable sum of money.
Although Lord Neil Dilley had been very tempted by such an attractive offer, and enjoyed gambling as much as Howard did, he said that he must regretfully refuse to accept the wager on this occasion.
He had recently become betrothed. As it had taken a long time for his proposal to be accepted and the marriage was now imminent, he didn't wish to upset the arrangement.
The Earl had been grateful for this refusal afterwards, since he subsequently lost the game.
Whilst in his more sober moments he believed that Amelia, his wife, had been going about the situation in completely the wrong way.
His daughter's beauty was undoubtedly a great asset, but for a man like Edward there would need to be something more.
The Duke would be looking for an intelligent and sensible wife, with whom he could also have a conversation in the evenings and at breakfast, before he was about to begin his day.
Helping to keep him on an even keel. Something which the Earl lacked in his own life, and bitterly regretted.
Feeling that if Amelia had been a little different, he might not have succumbed to drinking quite so much alcohol at his club in the evenings.
Wishing instead to be at home, more often.