The Temporary Betrothal (15 page)

A receipt from a pawnbroker. For a diamond bracelet. His eyes
widened at the sum listed.

Whatever was Sophie about? What game was she playing? Was she
an innocent girl and a good friend? Or was she a siren luring men to their doom?
Could she use her pretty face and easily shed tears to get exactly what she
wanted?

Whoever she was, he intended to find out. Away from Lord
Bradbury and Bath, he would at last find out who Sophie Handley was—and what
kind of woman she really was, under this facade of beauty and grace.

Chapter Fifteen

S
ophie smoothed her hands over her gown, a
creation of taffeta embroidered with tiny purple roses. The fabric was discarded
with a shrug by young Amelia, so Sophie had quickly saved it for a gown of her
own. And now, as she surveyed her reflection in the mirror, she was heartily
glad she’d done so. One wanted to look one’s best when meeting the prospective
in-laws.

She crossed the floor of her room and peered out the window
into the yard below. The inn bustled with activity. Every moment, it seemed, a
new traveling coach pulled up or another one took off. Brightgate wasn’t as busy
as Bath, of course, but it buzzed with more energy than Tansley. And even after
her few months in Bath, she still wasn’t accustomed to the sight of so much
activity.

How had she come to be here, after all? The past week had
whirled by in a blur. Aunt Katherine, in her usual imperious way, had secured
the trip for Sophie, without Sophie being privy to the conversation she had with
Lord Bradbury. In fact, it was Amelia and Louisa who broke the news, as they
rushed into the sewing room crying one afternoon. Amelia was particularly upset,
for she was to attend her first dance at the Assembly Rooms that week, and was
distraught that Sophie would not be there to guide her. Instead, Lucy had been
pressed into service as a chaperone, borrowing a pale pink satin gown of
Sophie’s for the occasion.

A knock sounded on the door. “My dear, are you ready? The
carriage is waiting.”

Sophie turned from the window. “Come in, Auntie.”

Aunt Katherine opened the door, resplendent in a rich gown of
deep purple velvet. “My dear, you look lovely. The Cantrills will be quite
besotted with you.” She came in and kissed Sophie on the cheek. “Well, shall we
go?”

“No.” Sophie sighed. “I am not ready. In truth, Auntie, I am
afraid.”

“Afraid?” The old woman sank onto the window seat. “Of what,
may I ask? Surely there are no ghosts or monsters at the Cantrill home.”

Sophie managed a weak smile. “I must disagree. There is the
specter of our faux courtship, and of course, the monstrous lie we have
concocted to fool his relations. How on earth am I to behave tonight?”

“You must behave, first and foremost, in a manner that is a
credit to yourself and your family.” Aunt Katherine patted Sophie’s shoulder,
her many rings glistening in the late-afternoon light. “I have enjoyed watching
this false wooing from afar, so to speak. It’s all very exciting and glamorous
for an old woman like me. On the other hand, I worry about you, just as I would
worry about one of my own. What of your heart, Sophie? Is helping Charlie enough
for you?”

Sophie bowed her head. “I want only the best for Charlie. He is
a good man.” That was all she could manage. For weeks now she suspected her
feelings for him might be deepening, but it was so difficult to know one’s own
mind.

“Then show him the real Sophie while you are in Brightgate. You
have such a gift for inspiring love and warmth in others, my dear. You make it
easy for us to love you. Even I, stubborn old woman that I am, was determined to
hate you for throwing John over. And I couldn’t. You are just too sweet.” Aunt
Katherine gave her a stinging peck on the cheek. “You must know that above all
else, Charlie is determined to be right. He needs to feel that he is always
correct, and that explains his confusion with you. Away from the distractions of
Bath, you have the freedom to make of this whatever you wish. And I shall cheer
you on. I vow everything will turn out well.”

“Do you really think so, Auntie?” The pressure of Auntie’s hand
felt good. It was almost as nice as being at home with Harriet, when their
problems were simple. They needed food and shelter back then. Now things were so
much more complicated. False entanglements, diamond bracelets, viscounts and
veterans—how deeply troubling everything seemed.

“I do.” She rose, beckoning Sophie with an imperious gesture.
“Come, Moriah Cantrill is waiting. And so is Robert and so is Charlie. Show the
Cantrills what a lovely creature they are getting for an in-law.”

The carriage ride from the inn to the Cantrill home was
short—too short. It would have been nice to have more time to prepare. And yet
there was nothing to be done. The sooner she met her faux in-laws, the better.
At least it meant one more hurdle she had cleared. No matter what Auntie
thought, she would never prove anything to Charlie Cantrill. That stern
expression, those dark eyes...she gave an inward sigh. If only she could prove
herself to him. Being his...wife—she could hardly bring herself to think the
word—was a mere dream that would never come true.

The carriage pulled up next to a lovely home done in the
Georgian manner, all redbrick and symmetrical windows with white sashes. The
front door was painted a glistening snowy white, framed by a Palladian window
and side lights that reflected candlelight from indoors. It was quite a massive
square block of a home—a bit on the new side, with none of the weathered beauty
of Brookes Park or the stately grandeur of Lord Bradbury’s townhome.

“My goodness,” Sophie breathed, as she stepped out of the
carriage.

“Yes, Sir George did quite well as a merchant. They built this
home not long before his death. This was their third home in nearly a decade.
Moriah wanted bigger and better homes, so they kept rebuilding and tearing down.
She finally commissioned this one from a London architect,” Aunt Katherine said,
gazing up at the windows.

The door opened and a servant appeared. “Come, let us go inside
before they send the entire household out to greet us,” Aunt Katherine
muttered.

Sophie laughed, tilting her head up toward the second story.
One of the windows opened and a handsome face, remarkably like Charlie’s, but
more florid and less serious, ducked out.

“Are you my new sister-in-law?” he called.

“Not at all,” she called back. “I am merely being courted.”

Aunt Katherine beamed. “Robert Cantrill, do stop monkeying
about and come down to greet your guests as a gentleman should.” She turned to
Sophie. “The hold you have over men is quite remarkable,” she whispered. “I like
basking in your glow.”

Sophie’s cheeks heated. Here she was, calling up to Charlie’s
brother like a hoyden, when she was supposed to be making a good impression.
Surely she was off on the wrong foot already.

Robert disappeared from the upstairs window and reappeared at
the front door as they finished winding their way up to the house from the
curbstone. “I must say, my brother knows how to choose them.” Robert welcomed
Aunt Katherine with a kiss and then drew Sophie inside. “Though what you see in
my brother’s ascetic nature is beyond me.”

“I adore Charles for his simplicity. I only wish I were as good
as him.” She looked Robert straight in the eyes. It was the truth, after
all.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Well, if you can entice
that hermit back out of his cave and have him rejoin Society, I shall be
indebted to you forever.”

Something was a little off. Surely brothers, just like sisters,
enjoyed teasing each other now and then. But there was an edge to Robert’s
banter that seemed mean—as though he
enjoyed
saying
hurtful things about his brother. And when he kissed her hand, his lips lingered
longer than she felt was appropriate. Thank goodness Aunt Katherine was nearby.
She wasn’t sure she liked Robert at all.

He ushered them into a drawing room decorated in exceedingly
good taste, and went to fetch his brother and mother. Sophie glanced at the
paintings on the wall—portraits, mostly. She walked over to one and peered
closely up at it. No resemblance to Charlie stared back at her. How very
strange. She turned back toward Aunt Katherine. “This room is lovely but
lifeless,” she whispered.

“Moriah has professional assistance with her decoration,” Aunt
Katherine murmured back. “She has retained the services of several impoverished
members of the gentry to help her.”

Impoverished gentry. Just like her family.

The door opened, and with a rush of gratitude, Sophie spied
Charlie. He had a shuttered look on his face. No light shone from his eyes. He
looked absolutely miserable. He wandered in behind his mother and brother,
bowing to Aunt Katherine.

Sophie walked over to him, her arms outstretched.
“Charlie.”

He clasped her hands in his good one. “Sophie.”

“I was just asking this lovely creature what she saw in the
likes of you,” Robert said with a laugh. “She said she adores you for your
simplicity.”

“I do,” Sophie retorted, schooling her tone so it remained
light and breezy. “I find Charlie the most attractive man in Bath, because he
cares so much for the welfare of others.” If she kept her tone bantering,
perhaps Robert would get the message and leave Charlie alone.

Charlie stared deeply at her, a spark of life lighting the
depths of his brown eyes.

Mrs. Cantrill sank onto the settee, next to Aunt Katherine. “Of
course, when they wed, they will soon rejoin Society. They would never raise a
family in that dank apartment of Charlie’s in Bath.”

When they wed? Mrs. Cantrill was assuming quite a bit, wasn’t
she? Once more, Sophie felt the urge to defend Charlie against his own family.
“I would live in a mud hut in Timbuktu with Charlie if he so ordered it,” she
replied with a saucy grin.

“Ah! Young love,” Aunt Katherine warbled, breaking into the
conversation. “When I married Mr. Crossley, I was quite prepared to cross the
world with him on his merchant ships. We old women forget how love overrides
comfort when you are young and besotted.”

Sophie cast a grateful look at Aunt Katherine, then turned to
Charlie. “Shall we take a turn about the room?”

“While we plan your futures, of course,” Aunt Katherine
added.

Charlie offered her his good arm, and she squeezed his elbow as
they began strolling around the perimeter of the room.

“Handsome portraits, but I don’t see a likeness.” She waved her
hand at the walls.

“They are none of them family members,” he murmured in an
undertone and shrugged. “My mother bought them all at a country home that was in
the process of being dunned.”

Just like her home had been. “Oh.”

“They lend a certain cachet.” He cast his voice in perfect
imitation of his mother.

Sophie giggled. “We can make up stories about these people if
you wish. Perhaps that old man over there collected fine teacups.”

Charlie smiled for the first time in ages and entered the
spirit of the game. “Very well. Then his wife was that sour-looking woman over
there, and she never approved of his hobby.”

“So she smashed the teacups—”

“And he tore her favorite tapestry to bits,” Charlie finished.
She laughed, her heart aglow. Charlie could be very jolly company when he wanted
to be. If only he would enjoy life more—allow himself to love and be loved.

“All right, you two, that’s enough giggling for now,” Robert
interrupted. “Miss Sophie, do you play?” He indicated the pianoforte with one
hand.

“Not very well. Harriet practiced more than I did,” she
admitted. “But I will try.”

She selected a simple country tune and began playing note by
note. “My, it’s been years since I’ve played.”

“You are doing quite well.” Robert applauded. “Will you sing,
too?”

“Only if I must,” she rejoined with a laugh.

* * *

Charlie had no idea Sophie could play and sing, but she
did both with such effortless enjoyment that it was impossible not to be
fascinated. Robert sat next to her on the bench, turning the pages for her. So
he stood and leaned against the instrument, feasting upon her with his eyes.
Away from Bath, she was delightful, with none of the complexities that her
association with Lord Bradbury roused. And her simple defenses of him against
his brother and mother were also charming. It was difficult indeed not to be
completely besotted with her.

Robert was. He was oozing confidence, trying to woo her in the
same way he had tried to win over every girl Charlie had ever shown an interest
in. Some brothers were physically competitive, but not Robert and he. Instead,
Robert tried to assert his authority by winning over every female Charlie ever
came into contact with. It was a ridiculous rivalry, and one he had lost
interest in long ago. And yet, when Robert scooted closer to Sophie on the bench
and she backed away, triumph surged in his breast. She liked him better than
Robert. It was as simple as that.

She finished her song and looked up at him. “I shall play one
especially for you, Charlie,” she said with a small smile. Then she launched
into a plaintive, captivating little tune that bewitched him.

“Lully?” he responded.

She nodded.

As she sat there, playing and smiling, he watched her. That
indefinable feeling that lingered in the back of his mind, and in the depths of
his heart, now rose to the surface. What would it be like to be married to
Sophie Handley? To have a beautiful, enchanting woman by his side for the rest
of his life? Someone to defend, and someone to defend him. A real helpmate.

Aunt Katherine called over to Robert, who bowed and quit the
bench. Now was Charlie’s opportunity. He sank down beside her in the spot Robert
had just vacated.

“Your brother is rather pushy,” she whispered.

“Elder brothers. What can I say?” He gave a bitter laugh.

“I like younger brothers better.”

He said nothing, but warmed himself in the glow of their
companionship. Was this the missing piece in his life? Everything in his life
was so staid and orderly—but lonesome. Would welcoming Sophie in give him that
final feeling of peace he so desired?

“Sophie, thank you so much for coming to my rescue.” He was
fighting a rising feeling of panic, as though if he didn’t say the right thing
at the right moment, Sophie would vanish from his life forever.