An Ideal Husband?

by Michelle Styles

  She wasn’t going back to the romantic fool who faced utter ruin. And she was determined to marry for love, real and lasting love rather than a fleeting illusion of romance. Lasting love happened quietly, not this sudden bolt of lightning longing she’d experienced in connection with Richard. It reminded her too much of how she’d felt with Sebastian—unsettled and unbalanced. Surely if it was love, she’d feel complete and whole?

  She put the letter back on the desk. Her hand trembled. It was far too soon to think about love in connection with Richard.

  ‘I had to tell her something, otherwise she’d have been penning invitations this morning rather than going out visiting. Needing Robert’s and Henri’s blessing seemed like a sensible excuse.’

  He tapped his fingers together and his lips pursed. ‘When are the Montemorcys expected to return?’

  ‘In the early part of June, no later than the eighteenth. Lady Forbisher always has a ball to celebrate Wellington’s victory at Waterloo and then there is the Stagshaw Fair on the fourth of July. Henri helps with the planning of that. We had a letter from Henri yesterday.’ She kept her head up. ‘The timing should be perfect. All the commotion will have died down. Our parting will go unremarked.’

  ‘We shall have to hope that Montemorcy sees some reason to object, then,’ he murmured.

  ‘I’m sure he will,’ Sophie assured him. ‘Robert is quite protective. He was the one who saw through Sebastian straight away. And Henri is brilliant at matchmaking. She is sure to find a reason why we wouldn’t suit if Robert doesn’t.’

  The words tasted like ash in Sophie’s mouth. She wanted Richard to deny it was a good idea and that he intended to remain in Newcastle for the summer with her—in fact, that against all expectation he wanted to marry her.

  ‘It is good to know how long we have left. Early June after Montemorcy arrives back and sees the terms. After he has withheld his consent, we part. Amicably.’ His lips became a thin white line. ‘It is what happens in these cases.’

  A pang went through Sophie. He was right. ‘It is the most sensible thing. And it has happened to other people. Our parting will hardly be remarked on. I promise you.’

  ‘And if it is? How will you weather the storm?’

  ‘I’ll go to Corbridge with Henri and Robert to ride out any lingering tittle-tattle. I won’t be judged there.’ Sophie kept her head up. It would be the perfect place to recover from the ache she felt now that the date had been decided.

  His eyes became inscrutable. ‘Early June, then. It is good to know so I can make plans … for my return to London.’

  Sophie brushed away the great empty hollow which opened inside of her at the thought of never seeing him again. ‘But we have until then.’

  The dimple in the corner of his mouth deepened. ‘Yes, we have until then. Best not waste any time, Sophie.’

  Richard stood on the pavement and looked back at the brown-brick house. The day which had seemed bright and cheerful when he went in had become gloomy and overcast, matching his mood. The first few splashes of rain fell on his hat and frock-coat. Richard ignored them.

  He had an ending date for his friendship with Sophie. Early June. Somewhere deep inside him, he had known that this was going to have to end. Only he wasn’t ready. The very prospect of not being able to spend time with Sophie filled him with horror.

  He had no wish to be judged unworthy by some former guardian. The man could not even take care of Sophie properly. Richard wanted to know Sophie would be looked after as she deserved to be. Her so-called friends had not even seen that she did much better when she was painting.

  There was no hope for it. In order to keep Sophie safe, he’d have to marry her.

  He groaned as he remembered what she had said when she refused his earlier proposal. Sophie wanted to marry for love and love was the one thing he couldn’t offer. Love only led to heartache.

  ‘I will find a way to marry you, Sophie Ravel, but I will not mouth lies.’

  Was she truly ready to say goodbye for ever to Richard?

  Sophie bit the top of her thumb and tried to concentrate on the cricket match unfolding in front of her. Richard was batting and doing a sterling job of knocking the ball all over the ground after their team had had a disastrous start. The cricketing whites suited his figure. She noticed many admiring glances from the other ladies as he strode out to occupy the crease.

  Today was far worse than yesterday. Yesterday, she’d known it would happen some day in the future. Today was the start of the march towards when Robert returned and she parted from Richard for ever. Each moment with Richard seemed to take on an added intensity. It was as if some secret part of her wanted to store every second she had with him so she could remember them later.

  Perhaps today, after the match when he dropped her off, she would risk lifting her face up to him and seeing if his kisses were as exciting as her memory of them. She’d use the excuse of him winning the match. With the number of runs he’d scored, he was today’s hero and heroes did deserve their rewards.

  ‘Are you enjoying the match, miss?’ a well-dressed woman about her age asked, bringing Sophie back to the game which was unfolding in front of her. Richard had just hit the ball for four more runs.

  Sophie frowned. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman’s exotic features, but Sophie felt certain they had never met before. She rarely forgot the shape of a face or the eyes. It would come to her in a little while where she knew the woman from.

  ‘Yes, very much. And it is Miss Ravel, Sophie Ravel.’

  The woman regarded the cricket bat which lay at Sophie’s feet. ‘Are you going to play?’

  ‘My fiancé is batting now and I go in after if necessary. I haven’t played since my school days so I hope I can bat well if I have to go in. It would be dreadful to make a mess of it as our team stands a chance of winning. But there is every chance I won’t have to go in. Only ten more runs. Lord Bingfield did promise he’d arrange things so that I would not have to go in. And it appears he has.’

  ‘I am Hannah Grayson.’ The woman said the name like she should know it. ‘My fiancé is playing for the other team. He is the bowler for this over. You know, the bowler who took all those wickets in the first few overs. Sir Ronald Ferguson. We became officially engaged last night.’

  ‘Congratulations.’ A pang went through Sophie. Miss Grayson seemed so happy and in love. She could well imagine how that engagement went. Nothing like her own pretend one. ‘Have you known each other long?’

  ‘For a year or so, but I never expected things to go so quickly. I thought we were simply friends, even though Mama had hopes.’ Miss Grayson held out her hand where a diamond surrounded by garnets sparkled. ‘Sir Ronald gave me the ring last night. It is completely perfect. I am ever so grateful to my brother. I owe everything to him. I had feared that this day would never come to pass.’

  ‘Your brother?’

  Miss Grayson bent her head and picked at her glove. ‘He came up from London and sorted everything out. At first I thought he wouldn’t be able to stay beyond a day and a night, but he has. It turns out that Sir Ronald was the year below him at Eton and that made everything easier. And yesterday evening, everything fell into place. The settlement, everything. I feel so happy that I could embrace the whole world. Isn’t it marvellous how things work out sometimes? Love is a truly wonderful thing.’

  ‘Yes, it is. I am very pleased for you.’ Sophie composed her face. Somehow Miss Grayson’s unbridled joy only served to underline the hypocrisy of her own position. Getting married should be because you were in love with someone, deeply and irrevocably. It should not be because society dictates you must marry a stranger in order to save your reputation after an item has appeared in a newspaper. And it should not be because you want that stranger to kiss you. There ought to be more.

  ‘Do you have a brother, Miss Ravel?’ Miss Grayson asked as the bowler started his run up.

  ‘I’m an only child. I’ve often wishe
d for a sister, but never a brother. Alas, it was not to be.’

  ‘I agree it would be pleasant to have a sister, but I shall make do with my brother … for now.’ Miss Grayson’s brow knitted. ‘It is most vexing that he remains unmarried. He truly is the most perfect of brothers. I pray he finds a woman who deserves him.’

  ‘Maybe he will marry and you will get a sister,’ Sophie said. Miss Grayson did seem overly keen about her paragon of a brother. She had to hope the mysterious Mr Grayson was worthy of such praise.

  Miss Grayson’s lips parted as if she wanted to say something more, but a great shout went up and the bowler appealed to the umpire, who nodded and raised a finger, signalling out.

  ‘I fear, Miss Ravel, my fiancé has taken your fiancé’s middle stump. You’ll have to go in after all. A pity.’ Miss Grayson gave a little clap of her hands. ‘There is only one more wicket to go and then Ronald will have won the match. It is terribly exciting. I had never considered cricket to be anything but dull, but it isn’t. Good luck, Miss Ravel.’

  Sophie stood up and grabbed her bat. She swung it lightly to test her arm. She could do this. There were only five more runs required.

  On the way out to the middle, she met Richard, who looked furious at making the mistake.

  ‘Never mind, it was a difficult ball to hit,’ she said. ‘You played marvellously to get us so close to the number of runs required. Before you went in, I feared our side would lose by a huge amount. Now we are nearly level and poised to win, if I can avoid getting out.’

  ‘Who were you speaking with?’ he asked, his brows knitting together. ‘Just now? Another recruit to the game of cricket?’

  ‘A Miss Grayson.’ Sophie swung her bat slightly, testing its weight. She was surprised that Richard had even noticed where she was sitting or whom she was conversing with. She had thought he would be totally focused on the game. Her heart gave a leap at the intelligence. Despite everything he had noticed her!

  ‘Are you acquainted with Miss Grayson?’

  ‘She has very recently become engaged and wanted to sing her brother’s praises as he apparently enabled it to happen. I was the nearest person to hand,’ Sophie explained. ‘I suppose love will do that—make people overly inclined to speak to strangers.’

  ‘I regret my mistake interrupted your conversation.’ He stopped her bat swinging and adjusted the grip. ‘You were marvellous to volunteer when Charlton failed to show. It has allowed the entire match to proceed. I never thought you’d actually have to bat.’

  Sophie’s heart did a little skip as she basked in his praise, but it put more pressure on her to do well. The last thing she wanted was to let him down. And she had known that taking part in the match was the only way she could spend time with him. If it had been called off, she wouldn’t have an excuse to stay. She would have had to go visiting with her stepmother. The prospect had held little appeal, particularly as it would have meant less time to be with him.

  ‘It is perfectly fine,’ she said, tightening her grip on the cricket bat. ‘I hope I don’t make a mess of things. I would hate to think we will lose because of me.’

  ‘You won’t.’ He put a hand on her shoulder and his eyes turned serious. ‘Keep the bat straight and swing if you have to. Keep the bat low and the ball will fall harmless to the ground. There is only one more ball left in the over. Let Armstrong do the rest.’

  ‘Thank you for the advice.’

  ‘My pleasure. You will do wonderfully, Sophie.’

  Richard allowed Sophie to walk out to the crease and then went towards where his sister sat, shading her face with a parasol.

  ‘Hannah!’ Richard glowered at his sister. He had known Ferguson was on the other side, but he had thought Hannah would stay at home with their mother, discussing plans for the wedding. He had given his approval last night and had simply assumed Hannah would be too busy to attend today’s match. The last thing he had wanted was Hannah here when he was attempting to manoeuvre Sophie towards marriage. It was a delicate operation, but it was for Sophie’s own good. The last thing he needed was his sister causing mischief.

  ‘It is not like you to miss a shot,’ his sister said with a faintly smug smile. ‘Ronald clean bowled you. Took out your middle stump. When was the last time that happened? At Eton? Or before that? You see, he is the better cricket player after all. You shouldn’t boast so much, Richard. It doesn’t become you.’

  Richard tightened his jaw. He had missed the shot when he saw his sister speaking to Sophie, against his direct orders.

  ‘I thought you were not to speak to Miss Ravel until I told you that you could.’

  Hannah pouted slightly. ‘I wanted to see what she was like. I’d only had a glimpse of her at the Assembly Rooms the night she announced the engagement to everyone. I thought her wonderfully brave, no matter what Mama said.’

  ‘And you should have told me that you intended on defying me over this cricket match. I would have found an excuse not to bring Miss Ravel.’

  ‘But I’m pleased you did.’ Hannah clapped her hands together. ‘She is extremely beautiful, Richard. It is the sort of beauty which lasts rather than coming from a paint pot or cleverly dressed hair. And she was sitting on her own. I thought it couldn’t hurt.’ Hannah’s teeth worried her bottom lip. ‘It seemed opportune. I wanted to meet the woman who has made my happiness possible. I wanted to see if she was worthy of my brother!’

  ‘Did you have to go on about your brother? We had agreed to keep everything separate for our mother’s sake. Sophie needs to remain in ignorance. It is far too risky.’

  Richard closed his eyes. Sophie provided a bright spot in his life, untainted by his parents’ warfare.

  Would she understand why he loved them both and wanted to maintain cordial relations with both of them, rather than choosing a side? They were both part of him. He did not want to upset the delicate balance that he now enjoyed. Neither did he want her used as a pawn in that war. He could not stand to see Sophie hurt by either of them.

  He could be married to Sophie and protect her from the taint of his past. It was possible.

  ‘Are you going to marry her, Richard, for real? She wants a sister.’ Hannah gave a small sigh. ‘I think we could be friends. It would be so romantic to have a double wedding.’

  ‘A double wedding is an impossibility. Stop this foolish behaviour and think of our mother. You know my father will insist on being at any marriage of mine.’

  ‘Then you mean to marry her. Mama was wrong. I knew you must love her.’

  Richard watched Sophie face the first ball. Her blouse tightened, revealing her curves as she batted the ball away to safety.

  She was secure now and should not have to face another ball if Armstrong did his job. Sophie seemed so eager to play her part in the match and he knew he didn’t want her to be the one to make the team lose.

  ‘Stop putting words in my mouth, Hannah! Simply because you are love-addled, it doesn’t mean you need to see romance with the rest of the world. I explained about Miss Ravel’s necessity. Nothing has altered my view.’

  The last thing he needed was marriage advice from his baby sister. He wanted Sophie in his life. He wanted Sophie happy. Love made people unhappy and foolish.

  ‘Stop being foolish!’ Hannah whispered in a furious tone and put her hand on her hip. ‘You wrong me and Miss Ravel. I was curious. You have been spending an inordinate amount of time with her. Far more than Mama or I expected when you told us of the plan. Every day seems to bring something more that you must do. No wonder it took so long to negotiate my settlement with Ronald. Both he and I despaired of you.’

  ‘Allow me to conduct my relations with Miss Ravel in my own fashion. Please.’

  Hannah’s marriage arrangements had given him the excuse to linger without family interference. But Sophie had changed the rules and he no longer had time. He had made sure that Hannah’s interests were looked after, now he intended to look after his own. Everything had taken on a new urgenc
y because of his father’s note which he’d received this morning. Against all expectation his father had decided to travel and inspect his son’s choice of bride. He declined to give a date, but Richard knew he had a week, ten days at most, before his father appeared.

  If Sophie truly did not want to marry him, he needed to break it off for her sake, but he did have hope his plan would succeed. Silently he damned Cawburn for all eternity for making her wary of men.

  It wasn’t love, not the sort of love that he’d seen his parents experience, but he wanted to protect her and keep her safe from harm. He did have feelings for her and they frightened him to death.

  Now his sister had nearly ruined his delicate plans. Sophie needed to be cajoled into this or she’d bolt and he’d lose her for ever. He didn’t want to give her the additional excuse of his family. He tolerated them because he was related to them, but he was under no illusion—they were an acquired taste.

  ‘Go away, Hannah. Keep your nose out of my business.’

  ‘I shall go back to my seat now if you are going to be horrid,’ his sister said, sticking her nose in the air. ‘You failed to pay me the slightest bit of attention.’

  ‘Do! And next time, keep your solemn promise.’

  Hannah stalked off without replying.

  Richard sank down in the chair and contemplated the scene in front of him. Sophie stood at the non-bowling end, her straw hat pushed back on her forehead, poised to run if the occasion called for it while Armstrong faced the new bowler.

  A smattering of applause rippled through the ground as Armstrong ran one run. At a moment’s hesitation, Sophie ran the other way. Silently he willed Armstrong to take another, but Armstrong motioned for Sophie to stay where she was.

  Sophie nodded and banged the bat on the ground, signalling she was ready for the next ball.

  The bowler’s run took an inordinately long time. Richard clenched his fists. All Sophie had to do was hit a single run and then allow Armstrong to face the next four balls.