“I, I’m not sure.” Arnaud fiddled with the cravat he knew Artemis had adjusted perfectly not an hour before.
“What are you not telling me?” His mother had inserted a ribbon to keep her place and put her book on a side table. She laid her reading glasses on top of the abandoned book. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll badger your crew until one of them gives me an explanation.”
“All right,” he finally said. “I may have said something to Sophie I shouldn’t have.”
“Like what?” His mother scooted to edge of her seat, her tone sharp.
“It wasn’t necessarily something I said…maybe more in the way of how I said it?” He began an agitated walk around the sitting room. “You see, I actually don’t know, because…”
“Because what?” Honore’s tone became sharper and higher.
“I don’t understand women. They’re too sensitive. You never know how they’ll take something you say.”
Honore surged to her feet. “Tell me now, tell me everything. Do not make me regret the day you were born.”
Sophie ignored the uncertainties flashing through her mind and gave a light tap at Lord Howick’s library door. When he answered the knock with a firm “Come,” she lost her nerve for a moment, but then plunged in.
“Lord Howick, I have a huge favor to ask.”
“Sophie.” He looked up from the book on his desk and placed a sheet of paper inside, marking his place before closing the volume. “This sounds like a serious discussion.” He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t you have a seat by the fireplace, and I’ll ring for some cocoa. It’s been a long day. You and Lydia spent hours this afternoon at Hookham’s. I’ve never known my daughter to spend that much time shopping for anything not related to her wardrobe.”
“I’m sorry.” Sophie brushed an escaped curl away from her face. “It was because of me.”
“I can’t imagine how going along with one of Lydia’s schemes could be your fault.” Lord Howick broke the tense atmosphere with a warm smile. “Why don’t you let me decide?”
Sophie straightened her shoulders and willed the tense knot at the center of her back to soften. “I’ve come to a decision. While I deeply appreciate all your family has done for me, I can no longer maintain this ridiculous search for some ‘gentleman’ to propose marriage.” She snapped her mouth shut, nerve abandoning her, dreading Lord Howick’s censure.
“The Season has been going on for less than two months. What could possibly have happened in such a short period of time to cause you to give up?”
“I’m tired of trying to guard against unknown dangers swirling around me. Dangers I’m afraid may harm Lydia, or someone else in your household.” Sophie’s lower lip trembled, but she forged on. “I’ve decided to try to support myself with my writing. I’ve received several encouraging letters from publishers…”
“And this is what came of several hours at Hookham’s this afternoon?”
“Well, Lydia, that is I… Actually, we both thought perhaps I could try my hand at a different sort of writing.” She stopped, feeling a red, hot blush creeping from her face to her neck.
“As for the dangers, Captain Bellingham and his men would never let any harm befall either you or Lydia.” Frowning, Howick left his chair behind the desk and joined her by the fireplace.
“And then there is Captain Bellingham. He and his mother have been so kind, but…”
“But?” He leaned forward, an expectant look on his face.
“I’m afraid I find myself in a peculiar situation.” She lifted her head as if searching the library’s ornate ceiling medallion for inspiration. “I must apologize to everyone, but I’d begun to believe Captain Bellingham might be something more than a guard.” She settled her gaze back toward Lord Howick, her stomach quaking at what he must think of her.
“Something more?” Anger sparked in her benefactor’s eyes.
“This is not because of something he did,” she added quickly. “He had no idea…”
“Ah.” He rose and paced back behind his desk, re-opening the volume he’d just closed and straightening the paper marking his place. He returned to the fireplace and looked down at her. “And what did Captain Bellingham think of your latest plan when he accompanied you this afternoon?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain. I can’t in all conscience keep him by my side as a guard when I’ve made such a cake of myself with the poor man.” Just when she thought she had her feelings under control, another flush of embarrassment overtook her.
“Do not tell me you two young women went to Hookham’s today without any protection.”
“No. Of course not. We took Lydia’s maid and two footmen. The footmen stayed outside with the carriage, just in case.” She crossed her fingers behind her back and hoped not telling him the whole truth would not qualify exactly as a lie. She and Lydia had bribed the two footmen not to reveal what had happened. All that had taken was a special cake from Cook.
Sophie scarcely breathed while Lord Howick’s face underwent a series of expressions, ranging from enraged to finally settling on his usual calm demeanor. He moved to the bell rope and as soon as a footman appeared at the door, he motioned for him to await a message.
“Sophie, I appreciate your sharing your concerns with such candor. However, I cannot allow you to give up on your grandmother’s inheritance. I believe there are a number of suitable gentlemen you’ve met who might soon make their intentions clear. In the meantime, let me worry about seeing to guards to ensure your safety. You must promise me you will never leave this house again on your own without suitable protection.” He gave her a long, hard stare.
