couple.”
All about the drawing room, the others followed suit. Sophia attempted a smile, but she feared it did not come off very well. Her glance darted from face to face. Lady Wexford’s frown deepened, even as she raised her glass to her lips.
Ludlowe smiled, actually smiled at her. How dare he encourage her? Not even a week ago, he’d insinuated Highgate had a hand in his wife’s death. Now he was actually drinking to her happiness.
Why had Mama even invited him to witness this humiliation? Pointless to ask. She knew very well Mama expected Ludlowe to offer for Julia.
At the thought, she knocked back her sherry. The liquid burned a path to her stomach, where it settled uneasily. She had to believe that Julia, at least, would refuse him. She was already sticking so close to Benedict that they might have been the engaged couple here tonight.
Billings appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is served.”
Papa offered Mama his arm and led her toward the staircase. Spine stiff, he plodded down the steps as if he were headed to prison rather than a meal. Julia quickly followed with Benedict, leaving Ludlowe to escort Lady Wexford.
Sophia blew out a gust of air. A few hours more, and this farce would be over. Setting her empty glass on aside table, she turned to find Highgate scrutinizing her. “Aren’t you going to escort me to dinner?”
“Not quite yet. A word, first, if I may.”
She raised her eyebrows by way of response.
“If you do not at least pretend to play along with the charade, it will not work.”
“Oh? And here I thought everyone would be nicely convinced when I cried off.”
He stepped closer, his eyes capturing hers. Such a deep, rich brown, those eyes. “The way you’re going about things, they’ll never understand why you accepted me in the first place.”
“Then we can put it about that my father is forcing the match.” As if Papa would do such a thing. He far preferred to leave such considerations as marriage to Mama in favor of more masculine pursuits.
His elbow bumped her as he crossed his arms. “No one would believe that when you are of age.”
She released her breath in a little huff. “Do you always approach everything so logically?”
He inclined his head. “Logic has never failed me in the past, and on occasions where I haven’t let it govern my actions, I’ve lived to regret it.”
The flickering candlelight emphasized the lines about his eyes and on his brow. As it had the evening of the Posselthwaite ball, an urge rose in her to raise her fingers, to smooth those lines away. She curled her hand into a fist and berated herself for downing an entire glass of sherry on an empty stomach.
He betrayed no hint of emotion, except perhaps in his eyes. For a second or two, a shadow dulled their depths, giving Sophia the distinct impression he was thinking of his first marriage.
His wife was dead. There was no questioning that fact. But Sophia couldn’t believe society would tolerate a murderer. Had he even cared for his wife, or had theentire marriage been a simple arrangement for appearances’ sake?
Just like what he was asking her to embark on. A façade, a fraud meant to preserve both their reputations.
“We ought to go to dinner before your mother decides to send out a search party.” An ironic smile twisted his lips. “She catches us alone again, she may take it into her head to procure a special license for us.”
“I do not think a ball to announce the engagement would be at all proper under the circumstances.” Mariah set down her wineglass and dabbed at her lips with a linen napkin.
It did not happen often, but for once Rufus, Earl of Highgate, agreed with his sister. The more elaborate social trappings he could avoid, the better. He didn’t need the attention of the
ton
focused on him. That road would only lead to bitter memories of the last time he’d been subject to gossip.
His sole aim now was to get on with the business of finding himself a new
All about the drawing room, the others followed suit. Sophia attempted a smile, but she feared it did not come off very well. Her glance darted from face to face. Lady Wexford’s frown deepened, even as she raised her glass to her lips.
Ludlowe smiled, actually smiled at her. How dare he encourage her? Not even a week ago, he’d insinuated Highgate had a hand in his wife’s death. Now he was actually drinking to her happiness.
Why had Mama even invited him to witness this humiliation? Pointless to ask. She knew very well Mama expected Ludlowe to offer for Julia.
At the thought, she knocked back her sherry. The liquid burned a path to her stomach, where it settled uneasily. She had to believe that Julia, at least, would refuse him. She was already sticking so close to Benedict that they might have been the engaged couple here tonight.
Billings appeared in the doorway. “Dinner is served.”
Papa offered Mama his arm and led her toward the staircase. Spine stiff, he plodded down the steps as if he were headed to prison rather than a meal. Julia quickly followed with Benedict, leaving Ludlowe to escort Lady Wexford.
Sophia blew out a gust of air. A few hours more, and this farce would be over. Setting her empty glass on aside table, she turned to find Highgate scrutinizing her. “Aren’t you going to escort me to dinner?”
“Not quite yet. A word, first, if I may.”
She raised her eyebrows by way of response.
“If you do not at least pretend to play along with the charade, it will not work.”
“Oh? And here I thought everyone would be nicely convinced when I cried off.”
He stepped closer, his eyes capturing hers. Such a deep, rich brown, those eyes. “The way you’re going about things, they’ll never understand why you accepted me in the first place.”
“Then we can put it about that my father is forcing the match.” As if Papa would do such a thing. He far preferred to leave such considerations as marriage to Mama in favor of more masculine pursuits.
His elbow bumped her as he crossed his arms. “No one would believe that when you are of age.”
She released her breath in a little huff. “Do you always approach everything so logically?”
He inclined his head. “Logic has never failed me in the past, and on occasions where I haven’t let it govern my actions, I’ve lived to regret it.”
The flickering candlelight emphasized the lines about his eyes and on his brow. As it had the evening of the Posselthwaite ball, an urge rose in her to raise her fingers, to smooth those lines away. She curled her hand into a fist and berated herself for downing an entire glass of sherry on an empty stomach.
He betrayed no hint of emotion, except perhaps in his eyes. For a second or two, a shadow dulled their depths, giving Sophia the distinct impression he was thinking of his first marriage.
His wife was dead. There was no questioning that fact. But Sophia couldn’t believe society would tolerate a murderer. Had he even cared for his wife, or had theentire marriage been a simple arrangement for appearances’ sake?
Just like what he was asking her to embark on. A façade, a fraud meant to preserve both their reputations.
“We ought to go to dinner before your mother decides to send out a search party.” An ironic smile twisted his lips. “She catches us alone again, she may take it into her head to procure a special license for us.”
“I do not think a ball to announce the engagement would be at all proper under the circumstances.” Mariah set down her wineglass and dabbed at her lips with a linen napkin.
It did not happen often, but for once Rufus, Earl of Highgate, agreed with his sister. The more elaborate social trappings he could avoid, the better. He didn’t need the attention of the
ton
focused on him. That road would only lead to bitter memories of the last time he’d been subject to gossip.
His sole aim now was to get on with the business of finding himself a new
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