At Last #8
Christine nodded grimly. “Although I’m burning with curiosity as to how it all came about, explanations will have to wait.
Right now we must discuss your best course to weather the tidal wave of gossip and ensuing scandal.
Given the lascivious nature of the story, you’re in for a rough time.
Every man in London will believe you’re now available for a dalliance.
Henry told me the betting book at White’s is already filled with wagers as to who you’ll take as your next lover. ”
The knot in Sophia’s stomach cinched tighter and she jumped to her feet. “Edward … I must go at once to Eton to speak to him. Prepare him.”
“I’ll come with you. But Sophia – at the rate this story is spreading, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already heard.”
A humourless, bitter sound escaped Sophia at the irony. She and Ian hadn’t made love last night, yet still the thing she most dreaded – a scandal – had come to pass. Filled with trepidation, she hurried to the foyer, Christine on her heels.
An hour later she returned to Christine’s waiting carriage on Eton High Street. “Did you see Edward?” Christine asked in an anxious voice.
Sophia fought the panic threatening to overwhelm her. “No.”
Sympathy flooded Christine eyes. “He’s already heard and refused to see you?”
“He heard. Early this morning. A fellow student confirmed it.” Dear God, she could barely speak around the lump of dread clogging her throat. “Edward wasn’t there, Christine. He became extremely distraught upon hearing the gossip and left school. No one knows where he is.”
When the carriage arrived back at her townhouse, Sophia ran up the brick walkway, praying there would be some word of Edward, that he’d come home or sent a note.
If not, she planned to go directly to Bow Street and hire a Runner to locate him.
The instant she entered the foyer, she asked Monroe, “Have you received any word from Edward?”
“Young Lord Winterbourne arrived home moments after you left, my lady,” the butler said, taking her wrap. “He awaits you in the library.”
Relief weakened Sophia’s knees and she clutched Christine’s arm. “Thank God.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Christine asked.
“Thank you, but no.” She hugged her friend tightly. “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your friendship and support.”
“You’ll always have it.”
Sophia blinked back her tears and after Christine departed, she drew a bracing breath and squared her shoulders. She could cry later. Right now she had to see Edward. Before she could take a single step towards the library, however, Monroe cleared his throat.
“Lord Winterbourne is not alone in the library, my lady.”
Sophia frowned. “Who is with him?”
“The Earl of Marlington.”
Eight
With her heart beating so hard she could hear its echo in her ears, Sophia entered the library. And froze at the sight that greeted her. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected but it certainly wasn’t her son and her former lover playing backgammon.
“You’ve the devil’s own luck, my lord,” Edward exclaimed. “That’s the third double six you’ve rolled this game.”
Ian grinned. “’Tis skill, not luck.”
“And that’s a Banbury tale if I’ve ever heard one.”
“And precisely what ye deserve after the trouncing I suffered at your hands the last game.”
Just then Edward glanced towards the door and saw her.
“Mother!” He jumped to his feet and hurried towards her.
Swallowing the sob that rose in her throat, she met him halfway and enveloped him in a tight hug.
Over his shoulder she saw Ian rise. He regarded her through serious eyes that gave away nothing.
Edward pulled back from their embrace. His dark brown eyes, so like his father’s, reflected worry. “Where have you been?”
“Eton. To see you. You’ve … heard.”
Colour rushed into his cheeks and he nodded.
“You left school hours ago. Where have you been?”
“I went to see Lord Marlington.”
Sophia blinked. “Why?”
Edward raised his chin. “I wanted to confront the cad who damaged my mother’s good name. Tell him what I thought of him. Show him as well.” He flexed his fingers, drawing Sophia’s attention to his hand. She gasped at the sight of his reddened knuckles. “Good heavens. You struck Lord Marlington?”
“Planted him a facer,” Edward confirmed, looking inordinately pleased with himself.
“Bloody well hurt,” Ian said, from across the room, rubbing his jaw.
“But according to Lord Marlington I could have done better. He’s promised to give me some pugilistic pointers.”
Sophia’s gaze bounced between her son and Ian. “I’m afraid I’m confused. You two have—”
“Spent the day together,” Edward broke in. “After I planted him the facer, we talked. He told me everything.”
Sophia’s gaze flew to Ian. “Everything?”
“Edward demanded to know why I’d dishonoured his mother,” Ian said. “I explained that was never my intention. That I love you and want to marry you. And that you said you love me as well.”
Edward touched her arm, recalling her attention. “If you love him, why don’t you want to marry him, Mum?” he asked softly so only she could hear.
“I … it’s complicated, Edward.”
“Is it because of me? Because if so, I must tell you, I like him. And I can tell he really loves you.”
“Adores you, actually,” Ian called from across the room. “Sorry – I’m not deaf. And just so you know, I like you as well, Edward – even though you trounced me at backgammon.”
Edward grinned at Ian over his shoulder then turned back to Sophia.
“Father always said you can tell a great deal about a man by the way he handles himself playing backgammon. Everything I learned about Lord Marlington today showed me he’s a fine man.
” Edward squeezed her hand, then leaned forwards to whisper, “I want you happy, mother. And if Lord Marlington makes you happy … you have my blessing.” He gently kissed her cheek then said in his normal voice, “If you’ll both excuse me …
” After offering Ian a formal bow, Edward quit the room, closing the door behind him.
In an effort to align her careening thoughts, Sophia closed her eyes, pressed her palms to her trembling mid section and drew several deep breaths.
“He’s an exceptional young man, Sophia.”
She opened her eyes and found Ian standing before her. The profound love, raw desire and deep admiration glowing in his eyes stole her breath. “Th … thank you. You two clearly shared quite a day together.”
“Aye. It didn’t begin particularly well—” he touched the faint bruise marring his jaw, “but after we talked, things rapidly improved. Just before you arrived he told me I have his blessing to marry you. In the hopes that that will change your mind …” He reached into his waistcoat pocket and withdrew the magnificent pearl ring he’d presented to her last night.
Then, as he had the previous evening, he lowered himself to one knee before her.
“Sophia … I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, and I promise I’ll love you until the day I die.
Will you do me the honour of marrying me? ”
Sophia looked into his beautiful eyes and her throat swelled shut at the wave of love swamping her.
She’d refused him to avoid scandal, yet the scandal had happened anyway.
She’d tried to protect her son, but Edward was clearly capable of taking matters into his own hands. And he’d given her his blessing.
Ian cleared his throat. “In case you need a bit more convincing, I’ll point out that a wedding would put a stop to all the gossip.
And should anyone be foolish enough to say a word against you or cast aspersions on my unfortunate lack of age, I assure you your son is well prepared to take them to task. Boy packs quite a wallop.”
With hot moisture pushing behind her eyes, Sophia took Ian’s hands and urged him to his feet. When he stood before her, she said, “I can’t marry you to stop gossiping tongues, Ian.”
He clearly meant to argue and she pressed her fingers to his lips. “But I can marry you because you’re wonderful. Because you make me happy. Make me laugh. Because I know you’ll be good to my son. And because I love you so much I can barely breathe.”
“Is that a ‘yes?’”
A half laugh, half sob escaped her. “Yes!”
In the space of single heartbeat he slipped the pearl ring on her finger and yanked her into his arms and kissed her breathless. “I hope you don’t want a bloody long engagement,” he murmured against her lips.
“I don’t,” she assured him. “Although I’ll have your promise that you’ll not mention our age difference.”
“What age difference?”
She framed his face between her hands and laughed. “God, I love you.”
He held her tighter and whispered something in Gaelic in her ear. “What does that mean?” she asked.
“At last, my love. It means at last.”