The Scandalous Life 0f A Betrayed Heiress (Historical Regency) Page 11

  Timothy picked up the letter and read it again. There was some ambiguity there that he did not care for. Why was it that she wished to discuss things? In Timothy’s estimation, there was nothing to discuss. They should be together and that was that.

  The arrangement was a common one in London. Couples came to town and each went off to their respective lovers, their spouses none the wiser. Perhaps he could make Sophia amenable to this arrangement.

  But alas, a thought came to Timothy’s mind that troubled him. Would he ever allow Sophia to be in such an affair with another? Absolutely not. The thought pained him and filled him with anger. He would challenge the chap to a duel if he found out about it. And so, to be equitable, he would need to keep his affair secret.

  And what of the issue of needing to create a Clumber heir? It was inevitable, and that meant that he would need to go to his wife’s bed. For whatever reason, Lord Timothy concluded that it would be easier to do so if Lady Helena were giving herself over to him. If he had her love, then he would have enough love to give to his wife.

  During the carriage ride to town, Lord Timothy looked about and noted that the constant rains had left the countryside a verdant green, exquisite as a shining emerald. He pulled a flask from his pocket and took a hearty sip. It was early for him to begin drinking, but he reasoned that just a pinch of the stuff would help to calm his nerves and this overwhelming excitement that made him quake.

  He had sent a letter ahead of him, and it would no doubt reach Lady Helena that very afternoon:

  Lady Helena,

  To hear from you brings me joy, and please trust that I have missed you just as deeply and earnestly. It just so happens that I’m on my way to town this very day, to prepare the house for the imminent arrival of my wife and brother.

  We have not spoken since I have taken a bride, but you did know of the inevitability of it. I often wonder if this was the very element that pushed you out of my arms. I can now understand the confusion that you were feeling regarding our relations, for I, myself, am experiencing that confusion in this very moment. But no matter what and despite all, my greatest wish is to see your face, and to hold your hand in mine. Send word if you can have dinner this very night. I wait with bated breath.

  Yours,

  Timothy

  Timothy did fear that the letter was over the top, but it exactly conveyed his emotions in their truest form. If all went as planned, Lady Helena would send a note to his home and they could go to his favourite restaurant for dinner, Surrey Highland.

  Arriving at the townhouse, Timothy rushed out of the carriage and through the front door before the footman even had a chance to open it. He turned to the front table, where all the incoming letters were placed, and to his dismay, there was nothing.

  “M’Lord?” Timothy heard the footman say.

  “Have there been no letters?” he asked, not standing on ceremony.

  “Not for some days, M’Lord. Were you expecting one?”

  “I was. I am. There should be one soon,” he replied coldly, walking down the hall and into the study. Timothy had to sit and think for a few moments. Just because a letter hadn’t arrived in the afternoon did not mean that it would not arrive in the following hour or two.

  Whilst Timothy patiently waited, he found it necessary to inspect the home and bark commands, if only to clear his mind of any thoughts of Lady Helena. He took surreptitious sips from his flask now and again and found that the gin was beginning to go to his head.

  When it was time for supper, Timothy checked the front table once more and frowned to himself. He would not receive a reply from Lady Helena that night. Had he been too bold in his correspondence? Should he have waited a day or two in order to leave Lady Helena to wonder if he had retired his feelings for her? Timothy’s mind was spinning.

  Dinner was served in the small dining room and Timothy sat alone, looking out of the window and barely paying attention to his food. He found that he had very little appetite that night, both from the disappointment and also because he was entirely drunk, which always led Timothy to lose his appetite.

  The following morning, he would be informed by the footman that he was carried from the dinner table by two of the strongest members of the staff. The future duke was laid onto his bed, still wearing his best suit. However, they did manage to remove his shoes.

  The painful headache was the least of Timothy’s problems. A letter had finally arrived on the little side table next to his bed, and Timothy tried to read it through squinted, blood-stained eyes.

  Lord Timothy,

  How utterly charming that you’ll be in London. Although I would have liked to have dinner with you last night, I’m afraid that I was engaged in a dinner party at my home. These next few days are quite difficult, what with the season in full form, but we shall endeavour to get together, whenever we can.

  I do recall that you took a wife, and I think that it’s best. Although we love each other, it’s not possible for us to truly rely upon one another. These little impediments to our love are fitting.

  Let’s get together soon,

  Helena

  What the devil? Had her tone entirely changed? Did the same woman who wrote the first letter write the second? Lord Timothy was dumbfounded. He feared he might need to run to the commode and retch. Instead, he merely lay in bed for the entirety of the day, staring up at the ceiling.

  ***

  “He has gone early,” Sophia said to Philip at the breakfast table.

  “To London?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he explain why?” Philip asked.

  “He said that he needs to prepare the townhouse. That it has gone to disuse.”

  “I see,” Philip replied distantly.

  He had a funny look in his eye that made Sophia question things. Did Philip not believe his brother’s explanation? It seemed perfectly reasonable to Sophia.

  “He asked us to come along in a week’s time.”

  “A week?” Philip asked, exasperation in his voice.

  “Those were his words.”

  “Very well. It gives me plenty of time to admire your abominable gardening.”

  “Abominable?” Sophia replied. “You can’t blame my gardening skills on the incessant rain.”

  “We’ll see in good time. Once the sun fully shines the true nature of your character shall be revealed.”

  “I do think that one’s gardening skills do say a lot about their character,” Sophia said humorously.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, those who are patient, thoughtful and artistic are the best gardeners. I do admit that I’m not perfect at any of these things, but I have aspirations.”

  “Don’t disappoint me. I’ll find it most embarrassing,” Philip said, lifting his brow.

  “I will aim to please.”

  Although her words were innocent enough, she watched as Philip went silent, concealing a devilish grin. She felt her heart dance in her chest.

  Yes, it would just be her and Philip, with Willow Grange all to themselves for the entirety of the week. Although the prospect of it was delicious, Sophia was going to do her best to not make a show of it. She was turning a new leaf. Sophia was ready to be devoted to her husband, to give herself over to him completely, and she was secretly praying that their time in London might be ideal for taking the next step.

  “Do try to bother me as little as possible as I perform important duties around the house,” Sophia teased.

  “On the contrary, I plan to bother you as much as possible,” Philip replied.

  “I won’t let you. I will be so focused that I won’t know that you’re there.”

  Philip looked down at the table, his demeanour turning introspective.

  “I want to protect you from something,” Philip said.

  “What’s that?” Sophia asked.

  “I wish to protect you from what you might discover in London.”

  “Such as?”

  “It’s not what y
ou think it is. High society and all that. It can be punishing, and social circles can be inconsistent, at best.”

  “I won’t trouble myself with it. If I meet some new friends, so be it. And if I do not, I suppose I’ll have to rely upon your friendship.”

  “On which you can depend,” Philip said with assurance. “But it’s not only that.”

  “What else?”

  “It’s hard to explain, Lady Sophia. I only hope you won’t wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  “I’m not the type to wear my heart on my sleeve.”

  “That, dear lady, I do not agree with.”

  Sophia and Philip locked eyes for a moment, and Sophia wondered whether or not her husband’s brother was indeed looking right through her, to the very core.

  What did he mean about protecting herself? Taking care? If London society was as vicious as Philip was proclaiming, then she wasn’t sure that she’d mind that much.

  Breakfast came and went and Sophia went about her daily tasks as she was becoming accustomed to doing. The local dressmaker payed a call to Willow Grange, and Sophia was draped in fabrics of lilac, yellow and blue hues. She was excited to wear such amazing finery in front of London society. Somewhere deep down, Sophia knew that her mother and father would be proud.

  As she made her way about the house, Sophia noticed that Philip did not go into town once, something that was rare for him. He was usually flitting about here and there, doing this and that. But on that day, he was something of a homebody.

  Sophia couldn’t help but notice how Philip tried to do exactly what he said he would do over breakfast. He managed to get in her way at every turn, blocking doors and pinching her ears and cheeks. It was frustrating, naturally, but mostly it was good fun. Sophia would protest, giggle, and then run away, Philip running after her. Eventually Philip would relent and walk away, only to return again just when Sophia had forgotten about his pestering.

  Sometimes it was almost as though Philip were her own little brother, the way that he teased her mercilessly. It was just another aspect of his character. One moment he’d be a pleasant nuisance, and the next he’d become quite serious and concerned about one thing or another.

  It was all so overwhelmingly charming and delightful. Below all the playfulness and seriousness, Sophia could sense that he really cared about her. It was comforting, especially considering that she was living in a foreign country.

  “Might I have a word with you, Lady Sophia?” Philip said with great flourish. He was wearing his riding boots, and Sophia assumed he was about to go out for a ride.

  “You may. I’m nearly done with my chores,” Sophia replied.

  “Shall we dine tonight, just you and I?”

  Sophia paused, her breath catching in her chest. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? It was only her and Philip in the house, and he’d accompany her on the long ride to London.

  “I suppose there’s no other option,” Sophia replied.

  “Not in the dining room. It’s so terribly cold and stuffy.”

  “Then where?” Sophia asked.

  “I’d like to take you out. To The Mount.”

  Sophia paused yet again. It seemed like an incredibly intimate thing for the two of them to do.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to tonight. I have other engagements. But perhaps,” Sophia said softly, “some time in the future.”

  She was stalling. Sophia wanted desperately to have a private dinner with Philip, but she’d need to wait. If only for the sake of her conscience.

  Chapter 11

  The days following Timothy’s departure had been remarkably pleasant. The sun finally came out and Sophia went out into the garden, where Philip would make frequent appearances, occasionally picking at pieces of green shrubs and placing them in her hair.

  There was a great deal of battle going on in Sophia’s mind, but considering that their interaction was so light-hearted with each increasing day, Sophia decided to think of Philip as a remarkable friend, a friend she had conjugal fantasies about, nonetheless.

  She wished to know more about him but didn’t think it was her place to ask. Why did he hide his quiet dignity and sense of duty? Why did he wish to appear as a n’er-do-well, when in fact she suspected he was quite the opposite? What was the most confusing of all was that, living at Willow Grange with Philip, Sophia felt as though she were married to him, from the way that they pleasantly and effortlessly carried on.

  But no, she’d continue her mental gymnastics, thinking of Philip as a dear friend, a brother, an innocent companion. She’d convinced herself of this so fully that every time he touched her, every time his shoulder brushed against hers, or he’d bring a finger to her cheek to clear away a bit of dirt from the garden that had settled there, Sophia would think to herself how sweet it was, whilst ignoring the pounding of her heart and the heat in her veins.

  The duke did not get any better after Timothy’s departure. He remained confined to his room, the servants bringing his meals upstairs. It pained Sophia to see it, but she did reason that nature was taking its course, as it would with them all. All the more reason to seize the day and find a way to make one’s self happy. Sophia was determined to do just that. Her life had not turned out as expected, but every time she looked into Philip’s green eyes she felt hope.

  One day the weather was so magnificent that Sophia decided to hold a picnic in the garden for all the staff. They seemed incredibly grateful for that, as there had never been any friendly interaction between staff and family members at Willow Grange. The sun was shining, the shrubs were growing, and tables were erected to display the various sandwiches and pastries that Rudolph had prepared with care. Sophia even invited the family members of the staff, so there were children playing all around, and couples and friends seated in chairs, sipping tea and chatting whilst they dined.

  “You’ve done well,” Philip said, approaching Sophia where she stood wearing her wide-brimmed hat.

  “It’s about time they felt appreciated,” Sophia said with a smile, looking around at all the good fun.

  “It’s something only the Duchess of Clumber would think to do,” Philip added, a touch of sadness in his voice. Sophia assumed that was because he was thinking of the former duchess, his mother, whom Sophia knew he missed dearly.

  “We leave tomorrow,” Sophia said, thinking of the preparations that still needed to be made.

  “Such a pity. Everything became rather charming after Timothy left.”

  “Now, now.”

  “Do you deny it?”

  “Well, just because the sun came out doesn’t mean that it did so for Timothy’s absence.”

  “I’ll leave you to consider that for a while.”

  As Philip went off to mingle with staff, something she had never seen him do before, Sophia was summoned by the head footman with a letter. Stepping inside the house and making her way to the study, Sophia wished for some peace and quiet when she saw that the letter was from her husband.

  Sophia,

  Preparations have been made and I’m of the assumption that you and Philip should arrive tomorrow or the next day. I hope that you have survived his company, thus far. I’m writing to inform you that the sheer number of business meetings here in town will prevent me from spending much time with you. I’m assigning a staff member to you by the name of Otto. Otto will be able to take you on a tour through town, provided that you have Arabella or Philip as chaperone; hopefully the former.