Chapter Eight #3
“Cinderella.” Amelia held up the book proudly. “She was like Mama. She had to work and people were mean to her, but then she married the prince and got a happy ending.”
What seemed like surprise and understanding flickered in Henry’s eyes.
“Is that so?” Henry’s voice was gentle as he looked at Sophia. “Then it’s a very appropriate story.”
“The best story,” Amelia declared. She wriggled off Sophia’s lap and ran to Henry, grabbing his hand. “Papa, can we go see the waves tomorrow? All three of us?”
Henry blinked down at her, clearly caught off guard. “The waves?”
“At the beach. Please?”
Sophia saw darkness cross Henry’s face. Oh dear. Had he not been down to the shore since Eleanor’s death? He’d said he found her body, washed up onto rocks.
“It’s nearly your suppertime, love,” Sophia said, trying to give him an escape.
But Henry crouched down to Amelia’s level. “Perhaps tomorrow, if the weather holds, we could all go down to the beach together. You, and me, and Mama. Would you like that?”
“Yes.” Amelia threw her arms around his neck.
Over Amelia’s head, Henry’s eyes met Sophia’s. There was vulnerability there, and determination. “I have not been down to the shore in quite some time.”
“Are you sure you would like to go?” she asked. “I understand it might be hard.”
“If I am to join you in this land of the living, then I must,” he said.
“I’ll be there with you,” Sophia said. “I hope that will make it better.”
“Yes, you will provide me a great deal of comfort.”
Amelia had returned to the book, sitting on the floor to flip through the pages again, telling the story to herself. Henry straightened, his eyes still on Sophia.
“You are like Cinderella,” he said. “I had not thought of it before now.”
“It occurred to me as well. But it’s just a fairy tale.” She shrugged, as if it were just a passing comment and of no importance. “There is no magic in real life. No magical slippers or fairy godmothers.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze on the floor.
She could see the muscles in his cheek flexing, as if he were trying to work out something in his mind.
Finally, he looked up at her, and the regret in his eyes crushed her heart.
“I’m sorry I cannot be your prince. I should be.
For you. You should have the man you deserve, yet you are to spend your life with me. ”
“Perhaps, in time, you’ll see me as something other than convenient?” She couldn’t look at him as she said it, her heart beating faster.
He lifted her chin with the tip of one finger, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Sophia, you light up every room you enter. You’re an extraordinary mother. And quickly becoming the heart of his house. You are much more than convenient. You are everything.”
“But to whom? Amelia? The servants? You?”
“To me? You are the greatest surprise of my life. The twist I did not see coming. It may not be the marriage either of us envisioned, but perhaps it can be…happy.”
“Perhaps you could love me just a little?” Tears gathered in her lashes despite her best effort to keep her tone light.
“Is that what you want?” His eyes softened. “Sophia, what are you saying?”
“I do not want to be lonely in my own house.”
He stared at her for a moment. “I see. I do not wish to make promises I cannot keep. However, my battered heart has gone from bloodied to merely bruised. You have done that in the short time we’ve spent together.
I cannot say what it means exactly. Mostly, because I do not want to hurt you.
That is the last thing I would ever want. ”
“No promises. But dare I have a little hope?”
“Could you ever love a man like me?” Henry asked. “Someone irrevocably flawed? Full of regret and anger? A man who has made so many mistakes? Who let down the only woman he ever loved?”
“It is not a question of my love, but yours. Are you capable of loving someone? Of letting go of the past?”
“I am unsure. Regardless, you make me want to try. Can that be good enough for now?”
She smiled through her tears. “I have begged for scraps my whole life. I shall take what I can get.”
Before anything else could be said, Lucy arrived.
Sophia quickly dried her tears and put on her stoic face. The one that had gotten her through life thus far.
Lucy guided Amelia up off the floor, instructing her to put her book on the shelves with the others and to come with her to wash her hands and face. Amelia dutifully followed Lucy, leaving the two of them alone.
“Please, will you join me for dinner?” Henry asked.
She nodded. “I would like to. Very much.”
“I will see you then.” He bowed and ducked out of the nursery.
Sophia sank into the chair, reeling. What had she done?
Why had she said so much? Now it would be awkward between them.
He would feel guilty for not loving her, when she so clearly craved affection.
Why had she expressed such need? She should simply be grateful for what he had offered her. That was her only choice.
Like it or not.