Chapter Five
That evening Sophia sat at her dressing table and put the last pin in her hair.
Observing herself in the mirror, she found herself wanting.
Firstly, without a lady’s maid, the best she could manage was a simple knot at the nape of her neck, secured with her mother’s silver comb.
It would have to do. Furthermore, she wished she had a better dress to wear for her first dinner with Lord Montrose.
Alas, she possessed only the green wool, which she’d worn earlier for their meeting.
In truth, the color was a little dark for her fair complexion, making her appear pale and drawn.
Her eyes had smudges of purple under them as well.
Too many nights crying herself to sleep.
Yet, it would have to do. Not that it mattered what she looked like.
The lord had no interest in her as a woman.
He had made that plain enough during their earlier discussion.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Mrs. Bromley entered.
“Miss Ashford? Lord Montrose is waiting for you in the breakfast room. May I escort you?”
“Thank you.” She stood, smoothing her skirts. “I wish I was more presentable. Dining with the lord is not something I ever expected to do. This is my best dress.”
“You are lovely, Miss Ashford, in whatever you wear. However, I have a dressmaker coming tomorrow to begin working on your new wardrobe. The lord has said to spare no expense. He wants you to have the finest of everything.”
“It is very generous of him.”
“I think you’ll find him to be so in all ways,” Mrs. Bromley said.
Sophia followed Mrs. Bromley downstairs.
When they reached the breakfast room, the housekeeper paused and gave her an encouraging smile.
She said quietly, “Don’t be nervous, dear.
He’s just a man. They are simpler than we might think.
” Then she turned and walked away, leaving Sophia standing alone before the closed door.
She drew a steadying breath and knocked.
“Come.”
Lord Montrose stood when she entered. He wore a dark coat and crisp cravat that made him look even more handsome than usual.
The breakfast room was smaller than the formal dining room, more intimate, with cream-colored walls and windows overlooking the darkened garden.
A fire crackled in the grate, casting warm light over the polished mahogany table set for two.
Two. Just the two of them. Her future husband. The thought made her stomach flutter nervously.
“Miss Ashford.” He gestured to the chair nearest to where he stood at the head of the table. “Please.”
She moved forward on unsteady legs, acutely aware of his eyes on her. Her cheeks warmed and her hands felt suddenly damp with perspiration.
He held her chair and she murmured her thanks as she sat. His hands brushed the back of her chair, and she caught the faint scent of shaving soap.
Robert, one of the younger footmen who sometimes brought coal up to the nursery, began serving the first course—a delicate soup that smelled of herbs and cream.
They ate in silence for a moment or two.
She found herself worried about the volume of her chewing.
A few droplets of perspiration dotted her nose.
She wanted very badly to wipe it away with her napkin but refrained.
It was important that she play the part of a lady, even if she felt more like a scullery maid turned governess.
Would she ever adjust to this new station in life?
“The weather has improved,” Lord Montrose said finally, his voice overly formal.
“Yes, my lord. The rain has stopped. I was able to take Amelia out for a few minutes this afternoon. She enjoys exploring the gardens, looking for flowers.”
“The daffodils are about to bloom. Poor things. Still battered by the rain and wind, but managing to rise toward the sky anyway.”
Like me.
More silence. Sophia stared at her soup, acutely aware of every movement she made. Was she holding her spoon correctly? Sitting properly? What did ladies talk about at dinner with gentlemen?
“What part of the gardens does she enjoy most?” Lord Montrose asked.
“She loves the apple orchard in the fall. We make a game of collecting any fallen apples that can be rescued for Mrs. Mills. I have taught her to count to ten that way.”
“How clever of you.” His gaze stayed upon her for a moment.
Had she seen admiration there in his eyes? If so, it pleased her immensely. She gave so much thought to how best to guide Amelia. Feeling acknowledged for her work felt good.
“Thank you, my lord.”
“And this time of year?” Lord Montrose asked. “It is rather damp and dreary, is it not?”
Sophia smiled, thinking of their adventure that afternoon.
“She’s fond of the kitchen garden. She likes to see what’s growing under the glass cloches.
And she has a fascination with puddles. She loves the snowdrops.
We search for them every day, counting how many new ones have appeared.
And she collects stones from the paths, storing them in her pockets like treasures. ”
“How adorable.”
“Oh, she really is.” She smiled, remembering how delighted the child had been over a winter-blooming honeysuckle near the kitchen garden that was quite fragrant. “Amelia insists on smelling the honeysuckle whenever we pass by.”
“Your eyes light up when you speak of her,” Lord Montrose said. “I have never witnessed anything similar in the eyes of my own mother. It warms my heart to see it.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
Robert removed their soup bowls and served roasted chicken with vegetables as the next course.
Lord Montrose set down his fork and looked at Robert. “That will be all. You may leave us. We’ll serve ourselves for the remainder of the meal.”
Robert’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he bowed and retreated, closing the door softly behind him. The sudden privacy felt both relieving and frightening.
Lord Montrose turned to her fully, and Sophia forced herself to meet his gaze.
In the firelight, his eyes were darker but warmer.
She’d always thought them brown, but now she could see flecks of gold near the pupils.
A woman could get lost in them. She caught herself.
This was a business arrangement. She had no right to notice whether his eyes were beautiful.
“I have been thinking about something I wish to discuss with you,” Lord Montrose said.
“Yes, my lord?”
“If we are to convince your family we’re in love, we must do the same with the servants. I’m sure you’re aware of how they gossip.”
“As a former servant, I am well aware, yes.” It was true. The household staff knew everything that went on in a house such as this. “Are you suggesting we pretend in front of the staff too? To ensure our ruse is successful?”
“Yes, that is exactly what I am suggesting. Which means, we will have to pretend to share a bed from time to time. At the very least, the wedding night.”
She blushed at the thought of sharing anything with him, especially a bed.
What would it be like to feel his solid form next to her?
To wrap herself around him. Goodness, she must get control of herself.
“I had not thought of it, but yes, I believe you’re right.
Mrs. Bromley knows the truth already. What about Davies? ”
“He also knows the details of our arrangement. However, we can trust them both with our secret.”
“I certainly hope so. If Davies shares what he knows, it will get back to my brothers. The valets and maids talk to one another. And lady’s maids are notorious for telling their mistresses details about the staff.”
“You are correct.” He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it slightly.
The gesture made him look younger, less world-weary.
“We’re meant to convince your brothers and the staff that we’re madly in love within the week.
Which means we must talk about something other than the gardens and Amelia. ”
Despite her nerves, Sophia felt her lips twitch. “I agree. However, I have little else to discuss. My life has been singularly focused on Amelia.”
“As it should have been. But now? We must learn more about each other if we’re to play our roles well.” Something that might have been a smile lifted the sides of his mouth. “If Sebastian is as clever as his sister, he will take one look at us and know immediately that we are strangers.”
“He is immensely clever, but it’s James who will be the bigger problem. There is not much he does not see. In addition, he has a suspicious mind.”
“I see, yes. As an aside, I am looking forward to getting to know him better, but we must stay with the task at hand. What do we know about each other that we can build upon?”
Sophia thought back over two years. “One time Amelia had a fever and you sent for the doctor.”
“Riveting discourse.”
“And I told you she’d learned to walk.”
“Clearly the foundation of a grand romance.”
A laugh escaped before Sophia could stop it. Lord Montrose’s eyes widened slightly, as though her laughter surprised him, and then, remarkably, he smiled. A real smile that transformed his entire face, softening the severe lines and hardness of his jaw.
Oh my, he was dangerous when he smiled like that.
She set that observation aside. “Perhaps, we could determine what being in love actually looks like? So we can approximate it convincingly.”
“A practical approach.” He leaned back in his chair, studying her. “How do we do that, exactly?”
“I’m not entirely certain. I’ve never been in love.” The admission came out before she could stop it, and heat flooded her cheeks. “However, I have read many romantic novels from which I could draw.”
“Do tell,” he said.
“Well, the hero and heroine always want to be near each other. They talk the hours away, fascinated by the other. Share confidences they would share with no one else.”
“Which means we would know personal details about each other.”
“Yes. Childhood memories, favorite things.”