Chapter 13
It had been well over a week since Mark had gone to visit Sophie. They previously met every other day or so. They would go riding, play cards, or wander the grounds of her father’s estate. But Mark could not get Emily off of his mind. He remembered her gracious beauty at his sister’s luncheon. And even his grandmother commented on her beauty, poise, and musical talent—not only on the way home in the carriage-- but also dropping comments about her at breakfast or dinner over the followingweek.
Mark thought for some time after breakfast about his duties to Sophie, to his family, and most importantly—to himself. He knew that his father was inexorably committed to him marrying Sophie—and as soon as possible. But he also knew his grandmother was more flexible and had expressed reservations about Sophie as the newDuchess.
He planned to visit Sophie this morning, but he was finding it difficult to summon the will to actually do so. Perhaps first, a chat with his grandmother might help settle his mind. She was not in her rooms when he went to see her. Baggs informed him his grandmother was in the conservatory where she tended to her collection of African violets. The conservatory was a large glass enclosure attached to the back of the house. It was damp and smelled of loam, mildew, and tropical vegetation with grace notes of orange blossom, jasmine, andorchid.
“Grandmamma, you old reprobate, what trouble are you getting yourself intonow?”
The Duchess was seated on a bench in a brown work coat she wore when gardening. She was in the process of dividing a plant and repotting it in twopots.
“Mark, be kind to an old and fading flower. I have few joys left to me that I can actually do. I have not been able to ride a horse for decades and since your grandfather passed, I have reading, embroidery, and my lovely violets.” She held up a pot with a deep crimson bloom. “Is this not lovely? I bred this myself. I plan to enter it in the summer flower show, along with my roses, if this is still blooming as nicely as it isnow.”
“I am certain you will win the blue ribbon,” Marksaid.
The Duchess sighed. “But you know I always do. Not for merit, mind you, but because I am the Dowager Duchess. It is not fair. I never know how my flowers really stand up against the competition. And the other contestants must feel cheated.” She turned to Mark. “You really must do something about that. Talk to someone. Make the competition fair this year. Can you dothat?”
“I shall have a word with the mayor. He will know whom to speakto.”
Mark pulled up a stool and sat next to her on the bench. “Grandmamma, I wish to speak with you again about a tendersubject.”
“Yes?” she said absent-mindedly as she shoveled her own special potting soil around one of the dividedplants.
“I have been lax in my attention to Sophie and I feel badly, but at the same time I am having a difficult time willing myself to go seeher.”
Grandmother glanced over with a slightly disapprovinglook.
“And why tell me this?” sheasked.
“Because you have expressed some reservations about her to me, previously, and I was wondering if you still felt the same—especially after meeting and getting to know Miss Emily.” He looked at her for her answer with someapprehension.
Grandmother continued potting for a moment withoutanswering.
“Are you telling me you are seriously considering Miss Emily as a possible bride?” she asked with a decided edge to hervoice.
“I am. She has everything I am looking for in a wife. She is intelligent, musically gifted, and stunningly beautiful—statuesque even. I know she comes from an ordinary family, but I have found no one else with the many charms shepossesses.”
“Hmm. My dear, the morning glory is a stunningly beautiful flower—deep blues to purples with colors of white, pink or rose radiating out from the center of the flower. Befitting its name, it is a glory in the morning but fades and dies away in one day. These humble violets, however, bloom with less of a spectacle, but are quiet, beautifully colored, and last for many weeks onend.”
“So tell me, Grandmamma, which in your allegory is Miss Sophie and which is MissEmily?”
“Ah, now that is the question, is it not? I believe that is for you to find out. But keep my instruction in mind before you make any marriageproposal.”
Mark sighed. “Grandmamma, you can be maddeningly irritating, but I love youdearly.”
He stood up from his stool, kissed her on the top of the head and patted her shoulder before heleft.
* * *
As Mark rode over to visit Sophie, he could not get Silas’s declaration that he intended to court Emily out of his mind. The very thought of his uncle and Emily as a couple sent a shiver down his spine. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and attempted to banish the thought from hismind.
When Mark arrived at Sophie’s home, he was escorted to the garden where she was seated on a bench reading in the shade of an apricottree.
“Good morning, Miss Sophie. I see you are enjoying this delicious weather out ofdoors.”
She looked up with a scowl. “Where have you been? I have been expecting to see you all week. And do not tell me you have been busy. You can always make time for what you really want todo.”
“I do apologize, but I had a trip to London and musical matters to attendto.”
