by Lucy Langton
“I must apologise,” he said, leading Sophia into the library.
“You apologise often, and there is no need for it.” Yet she would dearly appreciate an explanation.
“Please know that the tension between us is felt by no one so strongly as I.”
“Are you convinced of that?”
“I know that you’re suffering, Sophia,” Timothy said, bringing his fingers up to her cheek. Sophia delighted in the touch and almost closed her eyes in pleasure.
“Our marriage is not consummated,” Sophia said with great conviction and courage.
“It will be. Believe me, it will be. You must give me time. There is a great deal of complication that I deal with in this house, what with my father, and that blasted Philip.”
“He seems like rather a good man. Perhaps you sell him short,” Sophia said.
“Don’t believe any lies he tells you. He’s no doubt trying to endear himself to you. In my estimation he wants you for himself.”
“Nonsense!” Sophia protested.
“I see the way he looks at you. I have it in my mind to throw him out of this house.”
Deep in her soul, Sophia desperately prayed that he would not do so. “I think that you’re blinded to his goodness,” she said, brushing the comment away.
“Blinded to his goodness? Nonsense. There is the face that he projects to the world, and then the true face. I have seen the true face all of my life.”
Sophia couldn’t help but wonder who she should believe. Her husband was cold and distant, and then warm and endearing for brief periods. Philip was always warm, playful and funny, yet there was still a mystique about him that she did not know if she could trust.
If only Emily were there to confide in. Her aunt had a good sense of people and would be able to tell Sophia who was who and what was what.
“I will come to you soon, Sophia,” Timothy said with a sudden fit of passion, taking her into his arms.
“Lord Timothy,” Sophia said in shock.
“I promise to come to you soon. We’ll have a family together. I want many boys,” he said with a smile.
“I’m afraid we have very little control over that,” Sophia replied, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands upon her lower back.
“I just have a feeling,” he said, whispering in Sophia’s ear. She felt a tingle down her spine and all at once was filled with hope for the future.
Just then footsteps could be heard entering the library, and Sophia jumped. Timothy held onto her tightly as he turned and regarded his brother in the doorway.
“My apologies,” Philip said.
“It’s all right,” Sophia replied hastily, trying to pull away lest they be discovered in such a state of intimacy.
But why was she pulling away from her husband? Why did it pain her to have Philip see her that way? She was Timothy’s wife after all. She should not be ashamed. But it wasn’t so much shame as the look in Philip’s eye that gave her pause. There was something in his gorgeous green eyes, as though it were some kind of betrayal.
Sophia tried to pull away again, but Timothy held on tight, as though having his wife in his hands were some kind of show. Considering what he had just said about Philip possibly having affections for her, it seemed to make a great deal of sense.
Finally, Sophia managed to pull away and quickly excused herself from the library, not understanding why she was on the verge of tears. If the brothers insisted upon fighting, then she didn’t wish to be in the crossfire. And what’s more, she did not wish to cause anyone harm.
She ran to her room and threw herself down upon her bed, trying to comprehend the amazing complexity that she felt within her breast. She should be joyous. Timothy said that he would come to her, and he remarked upon plans to have a family. But Philip had looked so disappointed when he saw her in his arms. Sophia had to admit that she wished it was Philip’s arms she had been in. That she had felt his strong hands upon her lower back, holding her tight and not letting go. Yes, that was what was causing the tears and the anguish. The real object of affection was not her husband, but his younger brother. It was because of his veiled goodness, his dignity hidden behind roguish playfulness and feigned lack of care.
Sophia could not bear to come down from her room for the rest of the day. There was much that she needed to think about.
Chapter 8
The loneliness continued, but Sophia wasn’t the type to sit around and do nothing about it. As well as the loneliness, the rain would not abate, leaving Sophia to spend long days at Willow Grange considering her lacklustre marriage. It wasn’t that Timothy wasn’t making an attempt here and there. He had promised to come to her chambers, yet still ceased to do so. Sophia was beginning to wonder why he felt the need to promise. Was it compunction? Was there something deeper that Timothy could not control?
***
Letters were pouring in from Kitty Carmichael back in America, and Sophia knew it was high-time her friend paid a visit. She had only been enjoying the womanly company of Arabella. Even though she was close to her maid, there were still some things Sophia could not express to her.
So, when Kitty arrived on a dreary Wednesday, Sophia was over the moon with happiness. Kitty looked utterly exhausted from the journey, but there was still a pretty smile on her face.
“Can you believe it?” Kitty asked, throwing out her arms to embrace her friend.
“I’m beside myself with joy,” Sophia replied.
“Listen to you. You sound so English,” Kitty said, wrinkling her nose. “When do we take tea?”
“We take tea every afternoon.”
“Again, so English!” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
Sophia knew full well that the duke, Lord Timothy and Philip would find Kitty crass to say the least. But Sophia didn’t care. She’d defend her friend to the very end.
After a brief tour of Willow Grange, Sophia thought it fitting to take Kitty to have tea in town. She wished to take her to the confectioner’s shop, and show her the charming flower shop as well.
“This is The Mount,” Sophia said as they pulled up to the rustic teahouse that also served as an inn.
“Wow,” Kitty replied. “It’s so quaint.”
They ran from the carriage to The Mount, trying to shield themselves from the rain. When they entered, the tearoom was just as cosy as Sophia wished it to be. Far from crowded, The Mount still had a handful of other guests who wished to escape the rain, and their own homes, if only for a while.
“Can we sit by the window?” Kitty asked.
“Of course,” Sophia replied.
Situated by the window, Sophia watched as the rain rolled down the latticed glass. Beyond the streams of water, Sophia could see the charming garden that was situated out back. It reminded her of her own garden, which she hoped would bloom one day should the sun ever come out again.
“Tell me everything,” Kitty said, placing a napkin on her lap.
“Oh, where do I begin?” Sophia replied, thinking that there was practically nowhere to begin, since nothing much of importance had happened to her since coming to England.
An attendant in a white jacket came with menus and handed one to each of them. Kitty perused the menu while Sophia considered how honest she should be with her friend.
“Earl Grey,” Kitty said with assurance, placing her menu down upon the table.
“And for you, M’Lady?” the attendant asked, turning towards Sophia.
“I will have the same, thank you,” Sophia replied.
Within no time, the tea was poured, a tower of delectables placed upon their table, and Kitty began to eat and sip heartily.
“You seem quiet,” Kitty finally said, knitting her brow. “I was sure that if I came all the way here you’d be in better spirits.”
“My husband and I are . . . not getting along as I had hoped,” Sophia finally admitted.
“What do you mean?” Kitty replied.
Sophia leaned into the table and s
poke with a hushed voice.
“The marriage has not yet been consummated,” she whispered.
“What?” Kitty replied rather loudly.
“You heard me.”
“But why?”
“I’m not sure, really. Lord Timothy has distanced himself from me from the very beginning. I thought that perhaps he was shy, or maybe he didn’t like me. It doesn’t seem to be any of those things. He simply won’t lay a finger on me.”
“My God,” Kitty replied, taking a bite of a sandwich. “But you’re so beautiful.”
Sophia blushed, thinking her friend’s statement to perhaps not be true. “I do not know whether or not I’m doing something wrong.”
“Of course not. If a man takes a wife and can’t take her to bed, that’s his problem.”
Although Kitty was being rather direct with her, she still appreciated the sentiment. Sophia had been plagued with worries during the night that the whole thing was indeed her fault.
“You have a way of making me feel better,” Sophia said, looking down at her half-eaten scone.
“That’s why I’m here!” Kitty replied with great enthusiasm. “I must have sensed from across the ocean that something was wrong. I felt this incredible pull to come here. Maybe I sensed some melancholy in your replies to my letters.”
“I couldn’t believe it when you told me you were coming,” Sophia said with a smile.
“Are you kidding?” Kitty replied, “The Carmichaels are loaded with money and I like to see new places. It was a perfect fit.”
Sophia already began to feel her spirits lift in Kitty’s company. Although she knew it could not last long. Kitty was on a grand tour of the country, Wales being her next destination, followed by Scotland and Ireland.
“Be still my heart,” Kitty said, looking towards someone who had entered The Mount. Sophia turned in her chair to find Philip standing there, drenched in rain. He looked as surprised to see Sophia as she was to see him.
He walked towards them, and Sophia turned back to Kitty.
“That’s my husband’s brother,” she explained.
“It must be rather difficult,” Kitty replied humorously.
“I saw your coach outside and thought I’d see what you were doing,” Philip admitted. There was vulnerability in his eyes, as though he’d been caught spying.
“I did not have a chance to introduce you to my friend, Kitty Carmichael. She’s visiting from back home.”
“How do you do?” Philip asked.
“I’m well, thanks,” Kitty replied.
“I won’t disturb you any further. I was merely in town on business,” Philip continued to explain.
“You can stay,” Sophia offered, not wishing to force him back out into the rain, and always looking for an excuse to enjoy his company.
“No, no. There are things I must attend to,” he replied, and with that, he quickly exited. In his wake, Sophia felt like giving a dreamy sigh. But that would be to give her hidden affections away completely.
“Why didn’t you marry him?” Kitty asked.
“Oh, Kitty. What a thing to say.”
“Well, if you didn’t, then maybe I should.”
Sophia laughed. It felt good. Yet still, the thought of Kitty Carmichael marrying Philip filled her with a certain measure of sadness.
“He’s a soldier,” Sophia finally said.
“Even better.”
“But there’s something quite mysterious about him,” Sophia continued. “Only the other day, I went into the confectioner’s shop and found him helping the proprietors to fix their roof.”
“I love a Mr. Fix It,” Kitty replied.
“Yet, he didn’t charge any fee, I’m quite sure. He was doing it out of charity.”
Kitty Carmichael looked deep into Sophia’s eyes and studied her for a moment. “This is going to turn into a rather interesting story, isn’t it?” she asked.
“I’m unsure,” Sophia replied, looking back out of the window towards the garden.
The afternoon tea became more and more delightful. Having eaten a number of dainty savoury sandwiches, Sophia and Kitty began sampling the sweets, Kitty dunking hers into her tea uncouthly. It was what Sophia had been missing since Emily had left. Female interaction. Arabella couldn’t possibly understand Sophia’s plight, but Kitty seemed to respond with empathy to everything that Sophia was saying. Whereas her heart had been heavy that morning, as it was every other morning, her spirits were now soaring.
“Have you been to London yet?” Kitty asked, popping a chocolate into her mouth.
“Would you believe it, I’ve only passed through.”
“Well, get the adorable brother to take you,” Kitty replied.
Sophia blushed at the thought of it. “That would be akin to social suicide.”
“Might as well die happy.”
The two ladies laughed again, and Sophia looked around to see that there was no one else left at The Mount. They had been seated there for so long that the tearoom had closed for the afternoon.
During the carriage ride home, Sophia shared a thought that she had harboured for some time. “At the very least, I wish that Lord Timothy and I might be friends.”
“Are you mad?” Kitty asked in reply. “I should rather bed my husband and be his enemy than share a cold bed and be his friend.”
“I don’t think that you understand what marriage is like, Kitty,” Sophia replied in protest. “This is the rest of my life. Here, at Willow Grange, with Lord Timothy for the rest of my days. If there is no physical union between us, all I can hope for is the union of friendship.”
“Phooey.”
Although she was embarrassed by Kitty’s reaction, Sophia had to admit it was the truth. There were moments where she and Timothy would come together, where she could see behind his facade, and what possibilities there might be. To make matters more difficult, as her affections grew for Philip, they also grew for Timothy, albeit in a different way. She wished to see him succeed and handle whatever demons that seemed to lurk within him.
Married for but a short time, Sophia had already learned so much about other people, their complexities, and she had also learned a great deal about herself.
Arriving at Willow Grange, the rain had abated some, and Sophia and Kitty were greeted at the door by the head footman. Kitty was escorted to her room, and while she situated herself, Sophia ran into Timothy in the hall.
“May I speak with you?” he asked.
“Of course, M’Lord,” Sophia replied.
“That is the friend that you told me of?”
“Indeed. I think you’ll find her to be quite charming. We spent a delightful afternoon at The Mount. You really should go there with me one of these days,” Sophia said warmly.
“That would be . . . lovely,” he said with a pleasant smile. His expression turned to concern. “How much have you explained to your friend?” he asked darkly. He didn’t have to explain more for Sophia to glean his meaning.
