Meant To Be: Pendleton Manor Book 1 Page 12

  The way she spoke Sir Arbuthnot’s name struck Sophy and for a moment she put aside her misery to ask, “You hate Sir Arbuthnot, don’t you?”

  “After what he did to your father? Yes, I do hate him. We may not have been the best of friends, your father and I, but he did not deserve such treatment. And as your doting grandmother it is my duty to hate Harry too for being so stupid as to put you aside.”

  Sophy almost smiled.

  Her grandmother’s eyes glittered. “I’d hoped he was different. You seemed to think so well of him, but most young men only think with what’s inside their britches. Once you were out of sight you were out of mind, Sophy.”

  Any desire she had to smile was gone. “Someone told him I was married. I imagine it was Sir Arbuthnot, and afterwards Harry thought I had cast him aside. But I don’t understand why he wouldn’t speak to me and discover the truth. I don’t understand why he tossed me aside for a woman like Lady Evelyn Rowe.”

  A woman with blood, beauty and blunt, she reminded herself. If it was anyone else but Harry maybe she would understand, but he had never seemed to care for such things.

  Her grandmother wasn’t waiting to hear her arguments on Harry’s behalf. “There are plenty of other young gentlemen to be had, and also some not so young ones. You are a beautiful girl with a sweet nature, and many of those gentlemen would be only too happy to marry you despite your lack of fortune. Sir Geoffrey believes we can get more than one good offer for your hand.”

  Sophy shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t want to be taken to market like your best cow, Grandma!” she said in bewilderment.

  Susan shook her head. “My dear, how do you expect to live your life? I know teaching children is your passion, but how do you expect to make an income from that and remain free of the poorhouse? At the moment you can get by, because you are living with me, but I will not be here forever. One day you will be on your own. Or do you intend to move in with your Aunt Anna?”

  Sophy shuddered. “No, I do not.”

  “Then what will you do?”

  “I can find work as a companion,” Sophy said stubbornly. “A governess.”

  It was her grandmother’s turn to resort to sarcasm. “Oh yes, I can see you as an old dowager’s slave or a family drudge, wasting away in some dreadful room, worked to death for a pittance. No, Sophy, I will not have it. Your heart is broken, I understand that, but it will not be broken forever. The heart is a remarkably resilient organ.”

  “My father died in prison,” Sophy reminded her. “Why would anyone overlook such disgrace?”

  “You expected Harry to.”

  “He loved me. Or at least … I thought he did.” For a moment she felt completely bewildered.

  Susan reached to take her hand and give it a squeeze. “I know you think you will live an independent life, but such dreams are just that. The world is a cruel place for someone in your position. I have seen it for myself, and sometimes it is necessary to make choices you never thought you would have to make, Sophy. My hope is that you will find another man to love you. Your father may have died in disgrace but he came from a good family. As good as the Baillieus. And with Sir Geoffrey as your sponsor, these matters will be overlooked, I assure you.”

  “Grandma, I don’t—”

  “You are well versed in the ways of polite society—your father did a good job there. You would grace any table, and your husband would be proud of you. Marriage will give you a degree of independence a single woman can never achieve. We just need to find the right man, one who is respectable and with a reasonable amount of money to indulge you, and who will offer marriage to you and not a carte blanche.”

  “A—?” Sophy began, although she knew what it was. Harry had told her once when she asked him and she had been suitably shocked while he had laughed at her innocence.

  Her grandmother glared at her as if Sophy was somehow at fault. “Marriage! We will not settle for anything less.”

  “You did.”

  The words slipped out before she could stop them. Susan gave her a considering look. “I did, you are quite right. I was a kept woman and it is not always a comfortable position to be in. In my case, once I had made my choice of protector, there was no alternative. Sir Geoffrey’s circumstances meant he was unable to marry me.”

  “I’m sorry. I did not know.”

  “He had a wife already. A marriage of convenience, and he was too principled to cause her embarrassment, although not principled enough to give me up.” She shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

  Sophy didn’t know what to say.

  “There is a man out there who is the one for you,” her grandmother went on. “We simply have to find him.”

  Sophy stared at the pattern on the old Turkish rug that she knew covered a stain on the floor. “I thought I had found him.”

  “Well, Harry was clearly not worthy of you.” At that moment there was a ring of the bell, and she looked up with a smile. “Sir Geoffrey,” she pronounced. “Exactly who we need right now.”

  As she watched her grandmother hurry from the parlour, Sophy wondered wearily if the woman was enjoying all of this drama a little bit more than she should.

  Sophy sat at the luncheon table, pushing a slice of cold beef back and forth with her fork, barely listening to the conversation. The voices of her two companions washed over her, leaving her to drown in her own misery.

  “Sophy?” her grandmother was frowning. “Are you paying attention, dear? You really must listen, my love. Sir Geoffrey and I have formulated our plan. Do you want to hear it?”

  She wanted to stand up and run from the room, but they meant well, and they had been so kind to her. In fact they were wearing her down with kindness. So she nodded, although at this moment their plan was the last thing Sophy wanted any part of.

  Sir Geoffrey cleared his throat. “My sister is happy for you to continue attending functions with her and my nieces.”

  Sophy doubted this was true, but she let it pass. After she had left the ball, Sir Geoffrey’s sister had been told she’d returned home due to a headache, although Mrs Harding must know by now that was a lie. Although the atmosphere between them had not been particularly easy, Sophy had enjoyed Lucy and Charlotte’s company. She’d forgotten how pleasant it was being with girls around her own age.

  As if he had read her mind, Sir Geoffrey said, “My sister was disappointed to hear what happened at the ball, but you can be sure she is looking forward to helping you find your match, Sophy.”

  “She is very generous,” she said automatically, still not believing it.

  “Well, as to that …” Sir Geoffrey winked. “I am greasing the way for my nieces in Society, so she has to be happy to oblige me, Sophy.”

  She had suspected something of the sort. Sophy stared at him, not quite sure what to say. She could refuse outright and stay in her room, but—a glance at her grandmother—she didn’t think she’d be allowed to do that again. Besides, her grandmother’s advice had struck a chord in her, try though she might to ignore it.

  “Your grandmother believes you are a jewel, Sophy, and I think so too. We want you to show yourself, attract attention, and the suitors will soon be flocking around you like bees to honey.”

  “Sir Geoffrey,” Sophy said, “I am very grateful for your help. You and Grandma.” I hope you won’t be too disappointed when I fail to attract any suitors, and my heart never heals.

  Sir Geoffrey rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Excellent. I expect you to be engaged by the end of the Season,” he declared, as if it was a certainty.

  Engaged? Sophy opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. But her grandmother had noticed and fixed her with a determined stare. “It’s all very well thinking you would like to hide under your covers and never rise to face another day, my love. However that is not the way your life is going to end. There is another gentleman out there who will appreciate you far more than your fickle Harry. I want to see you happy because it
is what you deserve. I also want to see you live a life that is fulfilling but not at the expense of warm clothes and shoes that do not leak. I am afraid at the moment, my dear, you are inclined to wish such dismal items upon yourself and the worst thing we can do is indulge you.”

  Life for a woman in her position was never going to be easy and they were only telling her the truth. Marriage was her best option, and if she could find a man who was kind and would support her desire to improve the lives of poor children … surely that was the best of both worlds? Yes, it felt wrong but right now everything felt wrong.

  And yet this plan of theirs would give her time. No matter what they thought, Sophy was certain she would not receive an offer this week or the one after that. Indeed she probably would not receive an offer for quite some time. And time would give her a chance to consider other options, perhaps even find a teaching post that would satisfy herself and her grandmother.

  “Very well,” she said at last. “I will do as you say.”

  The two older people shared a conspirator’s smile. “This will sound heartless to you, my love, but I don’t think I have enjoyed myself so much in years,” Grandma said. “I will expect a full report after every event you attend.”

  “Why not accompany your granddaughter?” Sir Geoffrey suggested.

  She laughed and shook her head. “I am far too old, and I fear my reputation would hurt Sophy’s chances rather than add to them. No, I much prefer to hear about it second hand. I will be the spider, spinning the web that others will fall into.”

  They both laughed at that.

  Sophy felt a slight lifting of the weight on her shoulders. It wasn’t much, perhaps, but it was something.

  Chapter 14

  1812, Albemarle Street, Mayfair, London

  HARRY

  The woman lingered on the landing, wrapped around Adam, whose shirt was unfastened. He patted her bottom as she turned, a satisfied look on his face as he watched her leave. Harry eyed his brother sourly as he made his way to the breakfast room.

  “When are you going to give up your whores?” he asked when his brother sauntered in after him.

  They had leased this town house for the London Season. It was now April but the jovialities had been building since January, and Harry knew he would be expected to show up at most of the important events, with Evelyn on his arm.

  He didn’t want to admit it aloud, but he was looking forward to going home to Pendleton. There was the wedding to get through first, of course, but that had been set down for November. It seemed a long way away.

  Their father used to own a town house in London, but he had sold it shortly after their mother died. All of their money went into Pendleton these days, there never seemed to be enough in their father’s mind, but leasing this place was working out well. Harry had to be in town because of his commitment to Evelyn, and Adam was on leave until his regiment returned to the fighting. The two brothers rubbed along well enough. It was just that Harry had forgotten how much of a womaniser Adam had become, although this state of affairs was hardly new. Adam had always been a womaniser.

  “Why should I give them up?” Adam answered his brother’s question with one of his own as he piled food on his plate from the sideboard. “Unlike you, I don’t intend to be miserable all of my days. I will marry, I have to, but that doesn’t mean I am going to restrict myself to one woman. Especially when she won’t be my choice.”

  He stared a moment at the bacon on the silver platter, then took another slice.

  “What if she was your choice?” Harry said, pouring himself coffee as his brother sat down opposite him at the table.

  Adam smirked. “What, like Evelyn was yours?”

  Harry gave him a sharp look. “She is my choice. We are engaged to marry. She’s the woman I want to spend my life with. She’s perfect in every way.”

  “So perfect that last night you ran after Sophy Harcourt as if she was your heart and soul? Yes, Harry, I believe you. Thousands wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said coldly. “I didn’t run after her. I was angry. I hadn’t expected her to be there and I was taken by surprise.”

  Adam looked closely at his brother for a moment and Harry waited for the words he’d heard before. When he first told Adam about his engagement his brother had asked him if Evelyn was who he really wanted to be shackled to or whether it was Sir Arbuthnot he was trying to please.

  Harry knew he should have told Adam the truth long ago, but the pain had been too great at the time, and then …well, he’d moved on and it was pointless to rehash the past.

  “So you’ve come around to father’s way of thinking, is that what you’re saying?” Adam said.

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. Pendleton is always hungry. An heiress would keep the estate in good order. Anyway,” he added, “you’re the same. You are going to marry whoever father decides is best for your future. Why should I be any different?”

  “Because you are different,” Adam responded. “You want love and babies and roses around the door. You’re a romantic, Harry, and I’m not. Marrying someone you can’t fool yourself into loving will destroy you, and I for one don’t want to see you old and bitter before your time. You might drag me down with you.”

  Harry’s first instinct was to refute his brother’s words.

  He loved Evelyn. She was beautiful and clever and she would grace Pendleton Manor as if born to the role.

  This niggling doubt that Adam kept digging out of him had to be eradicated. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself. He couldn’t afford to believe that he was making the wrong choice because it was done now, the contracts between his father and Evelyn’s brother were all signed. The wedding date was set. The rest of his life was sealed and agreed upon.

  He sipped his coffee and spoke, intending to put the matter to an end. “Whatever was between Sophy and me is over. We were children, Adam, and now we are grown up. George Harcourt stole our money to secure Sophy’s future with a man of her choosing.”

  Like maggots in an apple, Sir Arbuthnot had said. Harry repeated it now.

  Adam sniggered. “Father does have a charming turn of phrase,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee and adding cream and sugar. It was a wonder Adam wasn’t as fat as the Prince of Wales. Instead he was tall, lean and handsome—certainly to the women he bedded on a regular basis.

  “Sophy betrayed me. She married someone else without a qualm. Until then I thought…” He tightened his shoulders and forced emotion out of his voice. “That’s when I stopped believing in her.”

  Adam looked uncomfortable. “Was the proof in the letter George wrote? I know there was something in it, Harry. Up until then you’d been ranting about father’s lies and swearing you didn’t believe a word of them, and then afterwards you just gave up.”

  Harry pushed aside his coffee cup. He had had enough of the conversation, but Adam was waiting. As well as the letter there had been the ring, the one he had placed on Sophy’s finger when he promised to marry her. George had returned it and Harry’s father couldn’t wait to hand it to him, saying smugly how Sophy didn’t want it any more and how she was happily settled in Lambeth. He hadn’t believed that either. He told himself Sophy would never do that. So he had followed the trial that George left him. All the way to Lambeth.

  “No, the proof wasn’t in the letter,” he said. The image seemed burned into his brain despite all his efforts to eradicate it with brandy and loose women. “I saw it with my own eyes. Sophy and her husband. There was a baby too.”

  Adam looked shocked. “Harry why didn’t you tell me?” he blurted out.

  Harry shrugged. “What could you have done? Anyway it’s over.” Yes, he’d been heartbroken in the beginning, stumbling around in a dark cloud, wishing he was dead, but those days were gone. He had made a conscious decision not to allow her actions to keep him from living his life.

  Adam was still watching him. “Did you say any of that to Sophy l
ast night?” he asked curiously. “I can understand why you’d be angry.”

  “I told her I had put the past behind me and I didn’t want to see her again.”

  “And what did she say?” Adam looked up, his fork halfway to his mouth.

  Harry stared at the door, wishing he could get up and walk through it. He didn’t want to remember Sophy’s white face and accusing stare. This conversation was tiresome and he had things to do. “She didn’t say anything. She barely spoke at all.”

  “While you ranted at her and let her know how little she meant to you?” Adam said dryly, then gave a hollow laugh. “Good work, brother. I’m sure she feels so much better for that.”

  Harry glared. “Why should I care how she feels? She shouldn’t have been there. It was … I was uncomfortable.”

  Adam filled his mouth with food. “I’ll bet you were.”

  “For God’s sake, man, swallow first. Frankly, I’d prefer to concentrate on what’s important.” Harry knew he sounded too much like his father for his own liking, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

  Adam swallowed. “I should tell you something.” He sighed, setting down his fork. “Harry, her being there may have been my fault. I didn’t mean it to happen, or at least I don’t think I did. Although when I saw her I remembered how you and she used to be, and I …” He shook his head.

  Harry stared at him intently. “What are you saying?” he growled. “What do you mean it was your fault?”