Chapter Eleven
Henry arrived in the drawing room before the others. He waited nervously by the fire, watching as a footman entered with a tray of decanters and glasses, setting them on the sideboard before withdrawing with a bow.
Sophia entered first. His pulse quickened at the sight of her.
This was Sophia Ashford as she was meant to be—a duke’s daughter, elegant and radiant, her fair hair gleaming with pearl pins, the deep blue silk bringing out the extraordinary color of her eyes.
He filled with pride, watching her graceful movements.
She looked like someone who belonged in a ballroom, at court, in the finest drawing rooms of London. And she would be his wife.
She came to stand by his side, taking his hand, as Sebastian and Rose entered.
“Lord Montrose, what a lovely room. So welcoming.” Rose had changed into an evening gown of deep pink silk, her dark hair arranged simply but elegantly. She came forward with a smile.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Henry bowed. “Please, sit wherever you’re comfortable. May I offer refreshments? Wine? Sherry? Brandy?”
“Sherry would be welcome,” Rose said, settling near the fire.
Henry moved to the sideboard and poured sherry into a crystal glass, bringing it to her.
“Montrose.” Sebastian’s greeting was warm as he shook Henry’s hand. “Thank you for your hospitality. The rooms are excellent.”
“I’m glad they suit. Brandy?”
“Please.”
James and Georgiana were the last to arrive. Georgiana looked quietly elegant in a pale lavender silk that complemented her delicate coloring.
“Your Grace.” Henry offered James brandy as well. “I trust your chambers are satisfactory?”
“Very.” James accepted the glass, his gaze moving to Sophia. “We’re eager to meet Amelia. Will she be down tonight?”
“Yes, she’ll be brought down shortly. Just for a few minutes before her bedtime.” Henry glanced at Sophia, who was sitting beside Rose. “She’s quite excited about meeting her new aunts and uncles.”
“Am I remembering correctly that her birthday is in April?” Georgiana asked.
“That’s correct. She’ll be three.” Henry moved to stand near the fire, acutely aware of being the center of attention. “But she is very articulate for her age. She has thrived under Sophia’s care and guidance.”
“Sophia spoke of her often at Christmas,” Rose said, her eyes soft. “We’re glad she’ll be able to stay with her now. As her mother, rather than her governess.”
“It’s what we both want,” Henry said. “Amelia needs a mother and she will have the best one in the world.”
“Henry, not really,” Sophia said, laughing. “He exaggerates my mothering skills.”
“Not at all,” Henry said. “My betrothed is both gentle and fierce. She loves with her entire heart, as I’m sure you all know.”
“We certainly do,” Rose said, smiling indulgently in Sophia’s direction.
“She was that way as a child. Has she told you much about her past?” James’s question was casual, but his eyes were sharp.
The directness of it caught Henry off guard. Regardless, he met James’s gaze steadily. “Yes, we have spoken at length about our pasts.”
“That is correct,” Sophia said. “We know much about each other. Although, I am sure there is always more to learn.”
“I agree,” Georgiana said. “I am still learning new things about my husband, the former rogue.”
“Is that true, my love?” James asked, eyes sparkling with humor. “I think I have told you all my stories.”
“I have a feeling there are several I do not wish to hear.” Georgiana pretended to shudder, smiling.
“Nor I,” Sophia said. “There are certain things a sister does not want to know.”
Everyone laughed as the door opened and Lucy entered with Amelia. The child wore a pale pink dress with white ribbons, her chubby cheeks rosy and blue eyes bright.
“Papa, I’m here.” She ran straight to him, and Henry caught her up, settling her on his hip with an ease that would have been unthinkable a week ago. “Are you ready to meet your new family?”
Amelia nodded, suddenly shy, pressing her face into Henry’s shoulder.
“It’s all right. They’re very nice. This is your Aunt Rose.” He turned so Amelia could see Rose, whose face had melted into pure tenderness.
“Oh, she’s precious,” Rose breathed. “Hello, Amelia. I’m so happy to meet you.”
Amelia peeked out, considering. “You’re pretty.”
Rose laughed, clearly delighted. “Thank you. So are you.”
“And this is your Uncle Sebastian.” Henry moved to where Sebastian stood. The Duke smiled, transforming his serious face into something almost gentle.
“Hello, Amelia. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sebastian said.
“I can count to ten,” Amelia announced, clearly gaining confidence.
“Can you? That’s very impressive,” Sebastian said.
“And this is your Uncle James and Aunt Georgiana.” Henry turned to the other couple. James’s intense expression had softened considerably at the sight of Amelia, while Georgiana’s usual composure had cracked into a genuine smile.
“Hello, little one,” James said. His voice, usually so sharp with questions and skepticism, was warm. “What do you like to do here at Montrose Manor?”
“Outside smelling flowers. Going to watch the waves.” Amelia’s small hand patted Henry’s cheek. “Papa saw my crab. And we found shells.”
“Did you?” Georgiana moved closer. “I love shells. Perhaps you could show me sometime?”
“Yes.” Amelia squirmed to be put down. The moment her feet touched the floor, she ran to Sophia. “Mama, can I show Aunt Georgiana my shells?”
Henry watched Sophia’s face transform as she pulled Amelia onto her lap. “Of course, love. Tomorrow, perhaps. Right now it’s almost time for bed.”
“But I’m not tired,” Amelia protested, even as she yawned.
“That yawn suggests otherwise.” Sophia smoothed the child’s curls. “Say goodnight to everyone. Lucy will take you up for your supper.”
Amelia made a circuit of the room, saying solemn goodnights to each person. When she reached Henry, she threw her arms around his legs. “Goodnight, Papa. I love you.”
The words, so simply said, melted him. “I love you too, dear one. Sleep well.”
After Lucy had taken Amelia away, an odd silence settled over the room. Had they noticed Amelia calling Sophia “Mama?” And him “Papa?”
“She’s adorable,” Rose said finally. “And she seems quite pleased with her new situation. Sophia, when did she start calling you Mama?”
“After I explained to her that I was to marry Henry.” Sophia took a sip of sherry. “She’s remarkably adaptable. It didn’t seem to phase her at all. She asked if she could call me Mama and Henry Papa and that was that.”
“Isn’t that something?” Rose asked. “Children are so special. I wish we could all remain so trusting and innocent.”
“Well.” Sebastian set down his glass. “It is a blessing how it’s all come to be. The three of you need one another.”
“As children who were orphaned young, we know how hard her life might have been had you not stepped up,” James said to Henry. There was something different in his voice now, less skeptical, more thoughtful. “She will have a mother and father to love her and care for her. Protect her.”
“As we were not protected,” Sebastian said darkly.
Henry glanced at James and then at Sebastian.
“My sister Rebecca and I were close. When she was expecting, she asked me to take the child should anything happen to her or Thomas. At the time, I thought nothing of it, feeling sure nothing so horrible could ever happen. But it did. As you know. Although I was grief-stricken over my sister, I had to accept responsibility for Amelia. Yet, I was terrified. I had been an oblivious bachelor with no one to care for but myself. Fortunately, I had the good sense to hire your sister. She is the reason Amelia is such a happy and sweet child. I, however, am still learning.”
“Having fatherhood suddenly thrust upon you must have felt overwhelming,” Rose said, her tone warm with empathy. “I am quite sure you have done well.”
“I have not done particularly well,” Henry said. “Until recently. Sophia has taught me a lot in a short amount of time.”
“How short exactly?” James asked.
Thankfully, Grimshaw appeared at the door. “Dinner is served, my lord.”
“Thank you, Grimshaw.” Henry moved to offer Sophia his arm. “Shall we?”
She rose, her hand settling on his sleeve with a touch that felt both formal and intimate. As they led the way to the dining room, Henry filled with the same pride he’d felt earlier. This exquisite woman was to be his wife. For now, playacting though it might be, he basked in the glow of her.
Behind them, he could hear the others following.
James and Sebastian would be watching, assessing, looking for any sign that this marriage was not what it appeared.
Henry would have to be convincing. To his surprise, he felt sure he would excel at his part of adoring husband.
Perhaps it was the role he was meant to play.
*
The long mahogany table had been set with the best china and silver, every detail perfect, from the arrangement of hothouse flowers at the center to the precisely folded napkins at each place setting.
Henry escorted Rose to her seat while Sebastian did the same for Sophia.
The seating had been arranged with care: Sebastian at one end as the senior duke, Henry at the other as host, with the ladies and James distributed between them.
Sophia sat at the place of honor at Henry’s right, with James across from her and Georgiana beside him. Rose sat to Sebastian’s right.
Footmen moved silently, pouring wine and serving the first course—a clear consommé garnished with herbs from the kitchen garden.
“This is excellent, Montrose,” Sebastian said after his first taste. “Your cook is to be commended.”
“I’ll pass along your compliments, Your Grace. Mrs. Mills has been with the estate since my uncle’s time. She knows her craft.”
“How large is the estate?” James asked, his tone conversational but his eyes still watchful. “We passed through some of your lands on the drive in.”