Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
“Dignity in a woman commands respect and admiration.”
Dr. John Gregory, A Father’s Legacy to His Daughters
Just off St. James’s Place, having failed to locate Richard earlier, Sophia wandered through the modiste shop her husband had recommended for her new wardrobe befitting the wife of an earl. Lily was accompanying her, animated in her exploration of the explosion of colorful fabrics to inspect.
“It is so exciting! You can wear so many colors now that you are wed. I am quite envious.” Sophia smiled at her exuberant cousin.
Lily was such a ball of energy, she never failed to lift Sophia’s spirits or distract her from her worries.
Worries such as the fact that one of the new Johns had joined her in the carriage for this outing.
The coachman and the customary footman had sat on the box, but the shorter of the two Johns abruptly entered the carriage behind her without so much as a by-your-leave.
It was unprecedented, in her experience, to have a male servant inside the carriage.
When he failed to explain himself, Sophia remained quiet and tensely observant.
The only reason she had not leapt out to run back into the house was the sight of Radcliffe on the front steps.
The butler had been watching closely, displaying no surprise when the footman embarked, which allayed her initial fear.
Still, she resolved to talk to Richard the moment there was an opportunity.
When she had collected Lily from her home, her cousin had entered the carriage and then hesitated in dismay at the sight of a footman installed on the opposite seat, but his presence prevented her from questioning Sophia about it.
It had been a relief to reach the modiste shop and exit the vehicle, but she noted that The Shorter John, which she had taken to calling him in her mind, followed them up to the entrance and was currently visible through the front window while her cousin chattered about which colors Sophia should consider.
Turning her attention back to Lily, Sophia leafed through the fashion plates they had been provided. Thinking about her husband, her thoughts strayed to how he had known to send her to this particular modiste.
The proprietress was an elegant Italian woman, dressed in a stylish but simple gown. This was unusual because most modistes were obsequious French women, and a large majority of those were English women feigning their French accents and names in an attempt to be fashionable to their clientele.
Her stomach tightened as an unbidden pang of jealousy crept in.
Had Richard brought other women here in the past to gift them with expensive clothing?
Mistresses? Widows? Perhaps even lonely wives or celebrated courtesans?
She forced herself to stop the train of thought before it spiraled further, her chest aching at the mere idea.
“How is it?”
Sophia looked up to find Lily’s large brown eyes fixed on her. She had just quietly regaled her cousin with the events of the past couple of days, but her thoughts distracted her and she found she had lost the thread of the conversation.
“How is what?”
“Married life? Are you enjoying life with the earl?” Her petite cousin appeared to be holding her breath.
“His past has created some interesting situations to deal with.”
“Pish! You knew it would. How are you enjoying him?”
Sophia hesitated, thinking. “I … like him. He has been most considerate, making a point to forewarn me about situations. He is learning to be a generous father, and he has spent a great deal of time with me and his son since I arrived.” She checked the shop to ensure no one could overhear her before dropping her voice.
“I very much enjoy the kissing. Saunton is … I do not know … I am becoming very attached. I think this marriage may … may …”
“May?”
“He needs me so, and he treats me like an equal. I … may be falling in love with the earl.”
Lily clapped her gloved hands in glee. “I knew it. I knew he was the one for you. And if anyone is capable of managing such a scoundrel of a man, it is you, Sophia!”
Sophia shook her head. Her cousin was such a hopeless optimist. There was much to deal with at Balfour Terrace before she could claim her happily ever after.
But I am on my way!
She sighed. Lily’s optimism was contagious, it would appear.
Over at the counter, Signora Ricci was conversing with two customers, waving her hands in the manner of the Italians. She did not notice when the bell on the door sounded, but Sophia was startled and turned her head to see who entered the shop.
Sophia recognized two women she had met at the Yardley ball, one of whom was a young widow known for her daring fashion choices. The widow’s ball gowns had been so tightly fitted and cut so low that Sophia had winced at the thought of how uncomfortable her stays must have been.
Today, the woman was dressed in a striking scarlet day gown that was, to Sophia’s mind, rather bold for the occasion. True to form, the bodice was cut so low that Sophia could not help but feel a twinge of concern for the woman’s dignity. Surely the gown would betray her at any moment?
The pretty blonde caught her eye and arched a perfect eyebrow, fixing her cold blue eyes on Sophia. A wave of pure malevolence crossed the distance between them.
“Lady Saunton. It is a pleasure to see you out and about. I did so hope that those vicious prints circulating the ton about your wedding night would not cause you to hide within Balfour Terrace.”
Lily gasped, but Sophia found herself impressed—the woman’s dig was well played.
“Thank you, Lady Partridge. I do appreciate your concern.”
The succubus narrowed her eyes with a sly smile. “And how is Richard? I have not yet called at Balfour Terrace this Season.” Her companion, a finely dressed lady with an air of mischief, let out a quiet, knowing laugh at the remark.
Sophia kept her composure, but she could see Lily’s delicate brown eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.
The viper was not subtle. Richard was not known for holding events at Balfour Terrace, so there could be only one insinuation to draw from her remark.
Lady Partridge had visited Richard’s home for reasons that were quite obvious to conclude.
“He is well.” Sophia offered a polite smile, all the while searching for an appropriate way to excuse herself from the conversation. Surely nothing good could come from lingering with a brazen creature of such questionable intentions.
“Please send him my regards. We enjoy a very special connection, and I am sure he will be pleased to hear I am thinking of him.”
Sophia reached her limit. This ladybird was stepping far beyond the bounds of good taste with her implications.
Sophia needed to mark her territory regarding her husband, or his former paramours would devour her with malicious remarks in shops across London.
Let the word get around that Sophia possessed teeth and claws.
“You are a widow, if I am not mistaken?”
“What of it?”
“And the time of your … memorable connection with Lord Saunton, you were a widow then?”
The woman scowled in confusion. “Yes, what is your point?”
“Oh, I was just thinking … You are quite young and of childbearing age. If your relationship with my husband was so … special … then he could have proposed to you, not so? Yet, he did not. He married me after several Seasons of hunting for his bride. Why is that, do you think? I hate to state the obvious, but … Mayhap your time together was not as memorable as you claim?”
Both Lady Partridge and her friend gasped in wounded outrage, while Sophia maintained a politely interested expression.
The she-devil struggled to find a retort, apparently not quick enough to engage in verbal sparring.
After a few seconds passed with her mouth opening and closing in the manner of a fish, Sophia took her cousin by the arm.
“Look, Lily. I see celestial blue silk near the back wall. Shall we examine it more closely?”
Lily appeared agog over the scene she was witnessing, but she managed a nod, accompanying Sophia away from the speechless women.
“We are to remain in the shop with them?” her cousin whispered beneath her breath.
“I am in need of a wardrobe. If I depart a shop every time a small-minded bit of muslin enters the door, I will never replace these debutante gowns your mother made me wear.”
“I cannot believe what you said. You are so brave.”
“Not brave. Just determined to live my life without strumpets interfering.”
When Sophia finally reached home, she stalked toward Richard’s study. Pausing by the door which was slightly ajar, she heard his brother, Perry. “No, not him. He slipped and broke his leg over Christmas, so he is languishing at his Derbyshire estate until he recovers. It was a bad break.”
“I will cross him off the list, then,” Richard replied.
Sophia pushed open the door and stormed in. Her husband leapt to his feet, distracting her for a moment. He looked very fine in a green tailcoat that picked out the color of his eyes. “Sophia, you are ba?—”
“Did you hire guardsmen for Ethan and myself?”
He glanced away. “What do you mean?”
“The two Johns in the ill-fitting livery? Both of whom are coincidentally recently arrived from your country estates?”
“Four Johns,” piped Perry from behind her. She turned to find him sprawled in one of the ivory armchairs, nursing a drink in his hand.
“Four?”
Perry gave a flippant nod, lifting his tumbler to sip on his brandy with his distinctive Balfour eyes fixed on hers.
Sophia spun back to Richard. “Did you hire four guardsmen?”
Richard glowered at his brother. “I did.”
“Why have I met only two, then?”
“Two of them are on night watch.”
“And why have you hired guardsmen?”
She saw something in his eyes. Shame, perhaps? “No reason. I am an important man, and I now have a new son and bride in my home. It seemed best to be cautious.”
She narrowed her eyes at her lying husband. He was having difficulty meeting her eyes, and he moved his hand to cover a list he had been writing when she entered.
“Are you hiding something, Richard?”
“No.”
“I do not believe you.”
“It is simple. You and Ethan are my responsibility, and I am taking precautions to ensure your security.”
Sophia tilted her head, recalling her mention of security the day before.
Was it possible that conversation had prompted him to do so?
She felt slightly mollified until her attention returned to Richard, who, she noted, was fidgeting like a schoolboy caught in a lie.
Then, no. Something had happened, but he elected not to inform her.
Sophia flushed with resentment. He had promised that they would be honest with each other, but now, after a mere three days of marriage, he was keeping a secret.
He did not trust her! She thought they had made so much progress, but … He does not trust me!
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “Are you sure there is nothing you wish to tell me?”
Richard looked like a guilty child, shaking his head in dissent. The resentment in her chest burst into flames. She wished to claw him in her anger—the stupid, glib idiot.
“I met your dear friend, Lady Partridge, today.” Richard visibly flinched. Behind her, she heard Perry choking back a laugh.
“She is very eager to renew your special acquaintanceship.” This time, there was no concealing it. Perry laughed out loud.
Richard held out his hands in appeal. “It was two or three years ago?—”
Sophia did not wait for his excuses. She was already heading out of the room, ignoring his response.
Richard left his brother in the study to follow Sophia.
When he could not find her in the library or lower rooms, he eventually tried her chambers and found her sitting on a window ledge, seething.
Her eyes were directed out to the street, but he sensed she was not seeing anything, instead lost in her thoughts.
He wished to tell her the truth, but more than that, he wanted to maintain her esteem and admiration.
How could he tell her that, despite the fact she sought security by becoming his wife, not three days into the marriage, he had brought the enemy to the gates?
He could not. He thought about what the duke had advised him, but he just could not bring himself to risk losing her regard.
Instead, he would need to use his well-honed charms to coax her out of her mood. A little misdirection to restore her good humor. “I apologize for not informing you about the guardsmen.”
She turned her head to scowl at him.
“You and Ethan are too important. Having a family depending on me is an unfamiliar experience. I promise I am being cautious because I care about you.”
His knees went weak with relief when her face softened to its normal composure. “I appreciate that. I appreciate that this is new to you.”
Richard stepped closer, his gaze soft as he looked at her. “I have never known a woman like you before, Sophia. And now, a child … such a tiny, precious child. At times, it feels like an overwhelming responsibility.”
She tilted her head back to look at him, her iridescent blue eyes speculative. “This is quite a change in circumstances, is it not?”
He nodded, running a hand through his hair.
“I had no idea one’s life could change this much in such a short period.
I had to step in when I inherited the title.
But this … this is different. This is … real.
Living, breathing family under my roof, depending on me to make the right decisions to keep both of you safe. ”
Sophia reached out a slender hand to capture his own. “I understand. I apologize for my impatience.”
He looked down at their clasped hands, and something stirred in his chest. Mayhap Halmesbury was right.
Was it possible that a Balfour was developing a true depth of feeling for his wife?
What horrific timing to have his emotions entangled for the first time in his adulthood, just when he needed to keep a clear head and find the source of the machinations plaguing his life.
He raised her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her fingers, relieved that he had distracted her from her suspicions.