The Scandalous Life 0f A Betrayed Heiress (Historical Regency) Page 10

  “It’s a remarkable city, although I’m not keen on the French,” Philip replied.

  “Why is that?”

  “They’re smug. Their food is too rich, and their clothing is too ostentatious.”

  “I have always been told that the English and the French don’t care for one another,” Sophia said with a smile.

  “We have a rather long history of despising one another. I don’t suspect that will ever change.”

  “You surprise me, sometimes,” Sophia said before she had a chance to consider her words.

  “And why is that?” Philip asked with keen interest.

  “I’m not sure. I had a very clear impression of you when we first met, and it seems to change every day.”

  “I thought you were a snob when I first set eyes on you.”

  To this, Sophia’s face lit up with a mixture of wonder and embarrassment. “Why is that?” she asked.

  “Because of your beauty.”

  Sophia’s cheeks flushed and she turned away. “My appearance made you think that I was a snob?”

  “Naturally. I see a beautiful, aloof woman, and I think that she’s conceited in some way.”

  “How terrible to make that assumption.”

  “What was your first impression of me?” Philip asked.

  “That you were a snob, as well. And a rogue, wishing to unnerve me.”

  “Well that, lady, I will admit to,” Philip replied.

  “You admit to it?”

  “Of course I do. I did want to unnerve you. I took great pleasure in it.”

  “How terrible.”

  “A man has to keep himself entertained somehow.”

  Philip and Sophia smiled at one another for some time, until he finally reached down and gently placed his hand on top of Sophia’s. A sudden current rushed through her body and Sophia didn’t know whether or not to pull away. Of course, her conscience told her that she must, but she so delighted in the feel of his hand over hers that Sophia wished for the sensation to last for a lifetime.

  “You mustn’t do that,” Sophia finally said, pulling away.

  “I know I mustn’t,” Philip replied, crossing his arms in front of his chest again. “That’s why it felt so right.”

  “You delight in doing things that you’re not supposed to do?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “No, individuals of strong moral character do not.”

  “Hogwash.”

  “It’s the truth,” Sophia replied.

  “Yes, I know that it was wrong, but I felt happiness just now. Did you feel the same?”

  Sophia knew she had to be painfully careful in that moment. It seemed that more and more so, Philip wished to mine the truth from her, and the truth in her situation was rather dangerous.

  “Please don’t ask me that,” Sophia replied, making her way towards the door. To linger in that kitchen with Philip for a moment longer might prove to be the death of her.

  “Why not?” Philip asked, chasing after her. He blocked her exit from the kitchen.

  “Will you please let me pass?”

  “I would like you to answer my question. Did you enjoy it just now, with my hand upon yours?”

  “Of course I did,” Sophia relented. “Human touch is naturally pleasant.”

  “That’s a rather generalised sentiment. I’m referring to my touch, specifically.”

  “Philip, this is not right. I am your brother’s wife, and if we’re going to live under the same roof, we must be civil. I beg of you to let me pass.”

  Philip finally relented, standing to the side so that Sophia could make an exit. As she did so, she could feel her heart pounding so perilously in her chest that she feared she might faint.

  ***

  Philip looked about the table and became excited. It was one of the most beautiful meals he had beheld at Willow Grange in many years. In fact, it reminded him of the meals his mother used to organise.

  He looked over to where Sophia sat, beaming with pride. She looked absolutely radiant when she smiled, and Philip delighted in it.

  “This lamb,” the duke started without finishing, taking another bite of the juicy meat, expertly paired with mint jelly. The new potatoes were equally as delectable, and the tender green beans that accompanied them.

  “You have done a fine job,” Timothy said, smiling at his wife.

  It made Philip’s heart sink. Was it just his imagination, or was his brother opening up and becoming warmer towards Sophia? For Philip, that was mildly threatening. He wanted to be the one congratulating Sophia on organising an excellent meal. He wanted Sophia to smile at him the way she was smiling at Timothy in that moment.

  “I couldn’t have done it without Rudolph. He is an excellent chef,” Sophia replied.

  “It’s high time we paid a call to London,” Philip said, taking a bite of lamb. “It’s the middle of season, after all.”

  “Sophia and I were only discussing that this morning.”

  “I know,” Philip replied under his breath.

  “I would very much love to go,” Sophia chimed in. “I have heard so much about the season.”

  “Every young married couple must be introduced into society, at one point or another,” the duke added.

  “We shall go next week,” Timothy said.

  “Really?” Sophia asked.

  “Yes, there’s no reason to delay. There’s some business I need to attend to in town in any case.”

  “Oh, I’m so excited!” Sophia replied.

  “I’m going as well,” Philip said with assurance.

  “Paying a call to the red-light district?” Timothy said without looking at his brother.

  “Well, I’ll need to entertain myself while you’re at the public house.”

  “Boys, boys,” the duke intervened. “It’s a fine idea that the three of you go together. If Timothy is attending to business, Sophia shall need an escort.”

  Philip lifted his brow victoriously.

  “That’s correct, Father,” Philip replied. “Lady Sophia will need protection.”

  “Her husband is her protector,” Timothy added.

  Philip went silent. He didn’t wish to argue with his brother anymore, especially in front of Sophia. The trip was secured, and in no time he’d be gallivanting down the streets of London with Sophia by his side. What could be more perfect?

  “I do hope society approves of me,” Sophia said under her breath. “I’m told it’s rather intimidating.”

  “You have nothing to fear,” the duke assured her. “You’re a remarkable young woman.”

  “Hear, hear,” Timothy said, lifting his glass.

  Philip looked about the table again and marvelled at how much things had changed since Sophia had first come to Willow Grange. His opinion of her had altered immensely, the duke’s demeanour had improved – although his health continued to decline – and Timothy seemed to slowly be getting his act together.

  Although Philip secretly wished that his brother would dissolve into oblivion so that he might have Sophia for himself, he had to admit that, his desires aside, seeing Sophia happy was what he craved most. Even if it killed him to witness it. If she and his brother managed to make a successful couple, Philip would approve, if only to see that smile upon her lips.

  Oh, but how he ached for her. That afternoon, it had been impulsive of him to place his hand upon hers. He could not help it. It was as though his hand had a life of its own, and he could only imagine if both of his hands were given free rein to do as they pleased regarding Sophia. There would be no limits on what they would do.

  Philip shook the thought from his mind and returned to his meal, but then fear filled him as the duke succumbed to a fit of coughing.

  “Are you all right?” Philip asked, but the duke could not reply. He continued to cough and reached for his glass of wine.

  “What can we do?” Sophia asked, getting up from her chair to comfort the duke.

  “Leave me,” the d
uke said whilst choking. “I shall go to my room.”

  “Very well,” Sophia said, motioning for an attendant to wheel him to his bed.

  Once the duke had left the room, Sophia brought her hands to her cheeks in dismay. It was clear that she cared for the fate of the duke and it warmed Philip’s heart to see.

  “Sit down, Sophia,” Timothy said. “We’ll conclude our meal.”

  “I fear that I have lost my appetite,” she replied, returning to her seat.

  “Nonsense,” Timothy replied, returning to his lamb.

  Philip could see clearly how his brother was handling the imminent death of their father. Philip could not say that he wore his heart on his sleeve, but he reasoned that he at least allowed some measure of human emotion to be expressed through him.

  “It is quite all right, Lady Sophia,” Philip said by way of reassurance. “We have been anticipating this for some time.”

  “It will be good to go to town,” said Timothy. “I sense that Father wants his space. He’s not proud of the state he is in.”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “We’ll need to summon the dressmaker tomorrow. You’ll require new gowns for London,” Timothy said.

  “That sounds lovely,” Sophia replied.

  “There’s nothing wrong with her gowns,” Philip whispered, under his breath. “She looks perfect as she is.” And he could feel his brother turn to him with a steely glare.

  Chapter 10

  Lord Timothy had been doing better, in his own estimation. He had been drinking less and paying more attention to his wife, yet still having difficulty coming to her bed. The reason for these improvements was because he had finally let go of Helena.

  Lady Helena White was the woman who held his affections. He finally had to admit to it. She had entranced him years before when he met her at a London ball, and he was disappointed to learn that she was married to Lord Clifford White, a man of some reputable standing. Although the lady was married, it did not faze Timothy in the slightest, and he went after her with vigour. The lady was receptive to his entreaties, and within no time they were having an unforgettable affair.

  Timothy felt no compunction at the time. He was merely happy to be with her, even if Lady Helena wasn’t entirely his. With time, Lady Helena was filled with remorse and broke the arrangement off, leaving Timothy with the greatest heartbreak of his life. He retreated from society, began to drink heavily, and even took a doxy from time to time, if only to forget the pain.

  There was no hope on the horizon when the arrangement was made for him to marry Lady Sophia Barberry. Seeing her beauty for the first time, Timothy suspected that he might fall in love with her. Sadly, his heart still belonged to another and the longing would not go away. He refused to treat Sophia as he did the prostitutes that he purchased, because he had respect for the woman he had married. For that reason and so many more, Timothy could not consummate the marriage.

  Although his affections towards Sophia were growing, all came to naught that morning when he saw that he had received a letter from Lady Helena White.

  Dearest Lord Timothy,

  I know that there has been no correspondence between us for some time. I hope that you do not hate me, but rather, still hold some love in your heart for me. During these weeks, I’ve done a great deal of introspection and have come to the conclusion that I miss you dreadfully. I fear losing you for good, as I may already have during this time of silence. I beg you to come to London so that we might sit down and talk through this. I do not know what the future holds, but I can say that without you in my life, I cannot breathe.

  Yours truly,

  Helena

  Reading that letter, Lord Timothy felt his heart constrict. He could scarcely breath, the anticipation and happiness were so great.

  Yet again, there was the issue of Sophia . . .

  He had promised to take her to London, and the timing couldn’t have been more wonderful or more dreadful at the same time. Timothy was going to have to make it work. He had even planned on consummating the marriage when they were at their townhouse in London. All those plans would now change.

  Timothy summoned his wife immediately. They had not yet taken breakfast, but he felt that the matter was urgent, and he needed to discuss it with her at once.

  “Did you summon me?” Sophia asked, her face glowing from a pleasant sleep.

  “I did,” Timothy replied. “There are some plans that have changed.”

  “Oh?” Sophia asked.

  “Yes, be seated.”

  He watched as Sophia sat herself near the window, and he began to improvise how he was going to get through this situation.

  “Your trip to London must be delayed,” he began.

  “Whatever for?” Sophia asked.

  “I have decided to travel to London ahead of you. I will require several days before your arrival. The reason for this is that I must prepare the townhouse. I have just received word from the servants there – they are rather understaffed – that the home is not yet fit for our arrival, and I think they need a good, strong hand to guide them.”

  “Do they not have enough funds?” Sophia asked. “I could call my father for help.”

  “Nonsense. It is not so much the lack of funds as it is the lack of guidance. Within a few days’ time, I’ll whip them into shape. We have not been to the townhouse in some time, and I can understand why things went to seed.”

  “So, when should I come?”

  “Nearly a week after my departure. Although I hate to have Philip be your chaperone, it’s inevitable. Nothing can be done.”

  Timothy watched as his wife turned her gaze towards the floor, an anxious look in her eyes.

  “I know that Philip makes you uncomfortable. It’s written on your face,” Timothy said, thinking that his devilish brother probably made the whole world uncomfortable.

  “No, it is not that. In fact, we’re developing something of a . . . friendship.”

  Timothy assumed that Sophia was being kind, that she didn’t wish to admit to not liking Philip’s ill character. He brushed the thought away.

  “I’m leaving this very day,” he went on. “The footman is packing my trunk. I’ll send word when I have reached town.”

  “That would be good of you,” Sophia replied.

  “Now that the rains have abated, hopefully you can occupy yourself in the garden, and in town. Take tea at The Mount. Do as you please.”

  “Yes, M’Lord,” Sophia replied.

  As she left the room, Timothy felt both anticipation and relief. If he had almost a week to spend with Lady Helena, stealing every moment from her that he could, then he was sure that his heart would mend, and Lady Helena would give herself over to him again.