An Ideal Husband? (11 page)

‘It will be settled to our mutual benefit,’ he said, releasing her hand. ‘You have my word on that. From now on wear it with pride and stop worrying.’

The room chose that moment to fall silent. Sophie winced and knew the colour in her cheeks flamed higher.

‘You see, Sophie,’ her stepmother crowed. ‘What did I say! Settlements can be easily achieved when a couple is in love.’

‘I apologise.’ Sophie gestured about the room. ‘It was quite unnecessary of you to call.’

‘We must disagree. It was completely necessary. I gave my word.’ He inclined his head. ‘If you would manipulate public opinion, Miss Ravel, the public do have to have something to talk about. It is far better that they discuss our engagement, rather than anything else about either of us.’

‘You make it sound like you are an expert.’

His eyes glinted like hard glass. ‘I had to learn. You were the one who increased the stakes.’

‘I will remember it for the next time and bow to your expertise.’

‘You may run along, then,’ he said, touching her sleeve. ‘I still have to greet a variety of other ladies, but my duties here must be short.’

‘And do what?’ Sophie put her hand on her hip. How dare he order her about! ‘The At Home is in its dying throes. I suspect once this lot have finished, we will not get any more callers. My stepmother has the tea and coffee under control.’

‘Grab your hat and cloak, of course. Unless you wish to have more gossip in the papers. I have a new pair of horses and a carriage up from Tattersalls. I want to put them through their paces in the northern air.’

‘Do you drive?’

‘I leave that to others but I do know the difference between a good carriage horse and an unsuitable one.’ A dimple played in the corner of his mouth. ‘Unless you are frightened to be seen with me?’

‘I welcome it.’

Richard stood in the hallway. He struggled to remember when he’d last enjoyed himself so much. Gently tweaking Sophie Ravel’s pretence of cold hauteur so that she was forced to reveal her inner passion was his new favourite sport. He wanted to explore her layers and find out more. He looked forward to it. He could not be sorry that circumstances forced them to spend time with each other.

‘Have you written to your father, Richard, informing him of your proposed alliance?’ his aunt said, coming into the hallway.

‘You are departing so soon, Aunt Parthenope?’

‘One stays precisely fifteen minutes. Always. I know the timing exactly. One should never be seen to regard a clock.’ His aunt sniffed. ‘You are leaving too soon.’

‘I will bear that in mind.’ Richard pointed towards
the drawing room. ‘The crush was overly heavy. I’m waiting for Sophie.’

‘The girl is perfectly acceptable if one’s taste is for icy blondes, but the stepmother …’ His aunt lowered her voice. ‘Have you seen the décor? Your father would turn puce. Far too much china. Far too much chintz. Her manner is far too fine.’

‘Mrs Ravel is a perfectly charming lady. Sophie knows her own mind about decoration and fashion, just as she knows her own mind about me.’ Richard forced a smile over a tremor of horror. He did not want to think about his father travelling to Newcastle and the complications that it would bring.

His relationship with Sophie had nothing to do with his family. She belonged to another part of his life, separate and distinct from his duty towards his family.

He had taken the time to move into a well-appointed set of rooms on Granger Street this morning. Luckily, for once, his mother had agreed with his caution, although her reasoning differed from his.

‘My father will adore Sophie once he meets her. Does he have plans to travel here?’

‘Who knows what your father will do?’ His aunt made a disapproving noise. ‘He is a law
unto himself, but I have every reason to think that he will not set foot in Newcastle. I, myself, have tried to persuade him for years to visit our mother’s grave, but he has always refused. His pigs must come before everything. I swear he uses them as an excuse to avoid doing his duty.’

‘My father is a man of steadfast devotion to his pigs.’

His aunt fixed him with a stare and he had to wonder if she had guessed his true reason for being up in Newcastle. ‘I shall have to write to your father about this fiancée of yours. You understand why it is necessary, I hope. The best that can be said for her stepmother is that she is no conversationalist.’

‘You do that. It will not change the outcome, Aunt.’ Richard nodded towards the stairs. ‘Here comes my intended, Aunt. I would hate to think you had caused her one moment of distress.’

His aunt put her hand over his. ‘Any wife of yours should be a credit to our family and its standing. You must not allow love to cloud your judgement.’

‘We are agreed on that. Love will never do that.’

Richard went towards Sophie, who looked absolutely fetching in her dark-blue leghorn bonnet
and matching cloak, truly a breath of fresh air and peace in his turbulent life.

She did not have any side in his parents’ war. He’d learnt a long time ago that explaining about his family only made him feel uncomfortable and awkward rather than contributing anything meaningful. He saw no reason to break the habit with Sophie.

‘Where are these horses?’ Sophie asked with a pretty smile after his aunt departed.

‘Waiting outside. Will you be bringing your maid?’ he enquired, wondering how much further he’d push her today. She would melt.

Sophie hesitated, understanding what he was asking. It would be prudent to have someone else there to prevent things getting out of hand, but it would also mean speaking in front of her. She could hardly explain about the party débâcle with someone listening in.

‘We are an acknowledged couple.’

He tucked her hand into his arm. ‘So I am given to understand. I promise to be on my best behaviour.’

‘My maid hasn’t been with us very long and she has a pile of mending to do.’

‘I understand entirely now. Do you go through servants easily? I only ask because your butler appeared quite new.’

He made it seem as though she was careless. ‘My stepmother does demand the best, but normally I keep my maids unless they marry. My last one ran away with the underfootman from two houses down. Jane has only been with us for two weeks.’

‘And you have no idea if she is reliable,’ he said, handing her into the smart carriage.

‘Precisely.’ Sophie turned towards him. ‘I have no idea if she can be tempted to tell her story to the papers. Such things have been known to happen.’

‘With great regularity.’ The dimple showed in the corner of his mouth. He stretched slightly and his arm came around the back of the seat. Sophie sat straighter.

He gestured to the coachman, who started off abruptly and she was jolted back against the seat and his arm, which instantly tightened about her. She gave him a sideways glance, certain he had arranged the incident. His hand squeezed her shoulder, sending a warm pulse through her before he removed it.

‘I’m pleased with your foresight,’ he said. ‘What did you want to speak to me about? What has agitated you? You were positively clinging to that teacup with a death grip.’

Sophie gulped. He had noticed! It made it
worse that he’d noticed. She could almost think he cared. She pulled her bonnet forwards so that it covered her face. ‘Was I that obvious?’

‘Only to me. My aunt takes unholy glee in making people agitated and upset. It provides her chief amusement.’ He put his hand over hers and squeezed it. ‘You appeared perfectly in control to everyone else, I am sure.’

Sophie swallowed hard and withdrew her hand from his. She concentrated on looking out the carriage window. Every time they met, she found a reason to like him more. He said precisely the right thing to reassure her, but how hard was that? Men like him did these things for one purpose only—seduction.

‘I need to apologise for my stepmother and her engagement-party scheme,’ she said before she lost her nerve or he developed the wrong idea about why she’d agreed to come without a chaperon. ‘She had the idea fixated in her brain. I had no idea she entertained the notion … until it was too late.’

‘And you haven’t told her the truth.’

‘How could I!’ Sophie turned slightly and faced him. He had to understand about her stepmother and her kind heart. ‘I planned to say something this morning, but my stepmother was preoccupied with the At Home arrangements. I
want to let her down gently, Richard. My stepmother means well. She made this promise to my father on his deathbed … and she sees this as a gold opportunity to fulfil it. My father … my father made his own fortune. He wanted his daughter to live like a princess.’

Richard said nothing for a while and Sophie listened to the wheels of the carriage turning, hating that she’d confessed about her father’s naked ambition.

‘My aunt has obviously written to my father,’ he said when her nerves were at breaking point. ‘We will have to instruct our various men of business to begin drawing up the settlement.’

Sophie blinked hard. ‘Excuse me?’

‘During the At Home, you made some remarks about settlements.’

Sophie fiddled with the lace edge of her glove, rather than meet his eyes. Her posturing at the At Home seemed ill conceived now that he was here, questioning her on it. ‘I thought it a kinder way of sowing doubt. I don’t want my stepmother to be too disappointed … when it ends.’

He raised an eyebrow and Sophie knew what he had tactfully not said. The only way she could keep her stepmother from being disappointed now was to actually marry him. She wished she
had considered her stepmother’s reaction before embarking on this adventure.

‘You are reluctant to tell your stepmother the truth, particularly in light of her extreme reaction.’

She gave a hesitant nod.

‘Then there is only one course of action. You must instruct your man of business straight away. The matter of settlement must be seen to be being addressed. I shall instruct my solicitors.’ He named a very well-known London firm. ‘My father always uses them. He would think something amiss if I didn’t. I will trust you to make the appropriate outrageous demands.’

She stared at him in wonderment. He actually had the perfect solution to the problem, one she’d never ask, assuming he’d reject it out of hand. She swallowed hard and attempted to puzzle out the implications. ‘You intend to keep your father in ignorance as well?’

‘You would hardly want him replying to your stepmother when she writes to him.’ He paused and gave her a hard look. ‘And you know your stepmother will … if the letter isn’t already in the post. My father is not a man to mince words, Sophie. Neither will he see any reason to lie.’

Sophie closed her eyes. She could readily picture the scene when her stepmother received
a terse reply from Richard’s father. The blow would destroy her. Utterly and completely. ‘It is very kind of you. Unexpectedly kind.’

He raised her hand to his lips. ‘I told you that I’d protect you. Why do you harbour so many doubts about my intentions?’

‘Because I do.’

Sophie sat up straighter and tried to ignore the way the warmth crept up her arm. Somehow it felt right to have his hand holding hers. And that was very wrong. No good could come of this carriage ride if she allowed liberties.

‘I will instruct my solicitor.’ She concentrated on taking steadying breaths as the warm tingling feeling increased. It was in moments like these that a woman was most in danger. If she kept her wits about her, she’d survive. She gave her hand a slight tug, but only succeeded in dislodging her bonnet. ‘My old guardian is out of the country with his family and will need to look it over before it is approved, of course. My stepmother will understand the delay. It will buy us time.’

‘Who was it?’ he enquired softly, not letting her hand go. Instead he put his other arm along the back of the seat, almost as if he held her in his arms.

‘Who was who?’ Sophie edged towards the carriage door.

He released her and leant forwards to straighten her bonnet. ‘Who made you so wary of men? Of me?’

‘Y
ou are talking nonsense. Absolute and complete nonsense.’ Sophie searched for her reticule and wished she had thought to bring more than a hatpin with her as Richard’s question echoed round and round in her brain. He wanted to know why she was terrified of men. It wasn’t all men. It was men who were unsafe in carriages.

The carriage suddenly seemed claustrophobic and tiny, and a complete mistake. How could she have thought for one instant she’d be safe with someone like Richard?

Sophie struggled to breathe. The last thing she wanted was to confess about that dreadful night, particularly here in Richard’s carriage. The consequences to her reputation could be dreadful if he realised the sort of person she
truly was. All the vile words Sebastian called her on that night echoed in her mind.

What if she was truly like those words? What if it wasn’t the man, but her? What if she caused men to be unsafe in carriages?

‘I have no idea why you said this! I am not wary of men.’

Richard said nothing in reply. He simply looked at her with a steady expression in his eyes. ‘Why, Sophie?’

Suddenly it came to her—the logical answer, the perfect answer. Air rushed into her lungs. There was no need for a confession. He need never know what sort of person she was underneath her cold exterior. Bluster and outrage had always served before. She could turn the conversation to his failings.

‘Why shouldn’t I exercise caution? Everyone knows about men who are
not safe in carriages
and the untold damage they can wreak on a woman’s reputation. She might never recover while the man simply moves on to the next unsuspecting soul.’ Sophie stabbed a finger at his chest. ‘You, Richard, are most definitely
not safe in carriages
. Had the desire to protect my stepmother’s feelings not preyed on my mind, I would have refused. I should have refused. We
have settled very little and now I wish to return to my home. Immediately.’

Sophie hated the tremor in her voice and that she wanted him to do something to prove once and for all that he was the sort of man she knew he must be.

‘You want to believe the worst in me.’ Richard’s golden gaze peered into her soul, but he kept completely still. ‘What have I done? How have I behaved improperly towards you? All I have done is to try to preserve your reputation, rather than seek to destroy it or entice you into bad behaviour.’

Sophie straightened her shoulders and forced an uneasy laugh. ‘You have a certain well-deserved reputation. Your exploits are favourite fodder for the scandal-mongers. There is little smoke without fire, as my father used to say. Oh, you might say it is lies, but how much is half the truth?’

‘I have never denied my less-than-angelic past, but it is more than that.’ He ticked the points off on his fingers. ‘You are skittish. You maintain this façade of icy hauteur because you are terrified of any man paying you attention. When you forget, you are full of feisty wit. Someone made you that way. What was his name? You owe it to me for saving your reputation.’

Sophie’s mouth went dry. He had guessed. Richard had seen her for what she was—petrified
of becoming what Sebastian Cawburn predicted she was. She should have thought. Crawford had a vast amount of experience with women. He had saved her from Sir Vincent’s machinations. She owed him the truth.

‘Sebastian Cawburn. Lord Cawburn,’ she whispered, staring straight ahead, rather than looking him in the eye.

‘That old lecher! You are comparing me to him?’

At the exclamation, Sophie rapidly glanced at him. An expression of extreme hurt flickered across his face so quickly that Sophie wondered if she had imagined it.

‘Sophie. We are nothing alike. I can’t stand the man.’

‘Not comparing, exactly,’ Sophie admitted. Her grip on her reticule caused her hand to hurt. She should have guessed Richard Crawford would be acquainted with Sebastian. They travelled in similar circles. ‘You both enjoy a certain reputation, to put it bluntly. It terrifies me that I might be attracted to someone like him again. That I am destined to repeat my mistakes.’

She closed her eyes and tried to control the trembling in her stomach. There, she had finally said the words out loud. Finally admitted
her attraction to him and the impossibility of it going any further.

‘Sophie, you wound me. I am nothing like that man.’ Richard leant forwards and raised his hands in supplication before her. It hurt more than he liked to admit that Sophie equated him with Sebastian Cawburn. He wanted her to see him for who he was, not who she thought he was.

She simply sat there with her eyes closed.

‘He cheats at cards,’ Richard continued. ‘He maintains two mistresses. He had to flee to the Continent to escape his creditors three months ago. I’ve done none of those things. Nor will I ever do such things. Believe me, please!’

She cautiously opened her eyes.

‘I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I refuse to repeat my mistakes. I made a solemn vow.’

‘When … when did it happen to you? When did you encounter Cawburn? Tell me that much.’ He swallowed hard and tried to control his frustration. Shouting at her would make matters worse, but he wanted to know how she’d become mixed up with Cawburn and what he’d done to her. A primitive urge to do violence to the man filled Richard. Somehow, he’d harmed Sophie. ‘Help me to understand why you might be comparing us.’

‘It was my first Season. I was naïve.’ Sophie raised her chin and he could see tears shimmering in her eyes. She clenched her fists before continuing. ‘Lord Cawburn can be very charming when he wants to be, but when he doesn’t get his own way, he is … he becomes a violent monster.’

Sophie pressed her hands to her eyes, making a sudden decision. She had to tell him everything, then he’d see why their relationship was doomed and why she refused to act on her attraction to him. He was sure to turn away from her in disgust. It would hurt a little, but better to be hurt now than to be led inexorably towards another room in a seedy inn.

‘Go on.’ He put his hand on hers. His voice was soothing as if he were speaking to a nervous horse. ‘Whatever happens, know I won’t be angry with you. I want to understand. It was during your first Season you had the misfortune to encounter Cawburn …’

‘I believed his promises. The ones I wanted to, rather than the ones I thought he said as a joke. I should have paid more attention to those ones.’ Sophie slowly withdrew her hand from his. He made no attempt to recapture it. He simply looked at her with burning gold eyes that bored deep into her soul.

‘It was very flattering,’ Sophie said when the silence became too great to bear. ‘I was his angel put on the earth. It was exciting to have someone that experienced interested in me. Before that I was Sophie, the one with the awkward hair who could never remember to start on the correct foot during the quadrille. It all went to my head. He kept arranging for us to meet at various balls and entertainments. When my stepmother discovered us in a deserted card room, holding hands, my guardian objected to the match and brought me away, but that only increased my desire for Lord Cawburn. He bribed my maid and sent clandestine letters, declaring his undying devotion. He followed me north. We eloped together at his insistence.’

‘But you didn’t marry.’

‘My guardian and Sebastian’s cousin, Henrietta, caught up with us the next day.’ Sophie gave a hollow laugh. ‘We hadn’t even reached Scotland. The carriage had broken down. Trust me to pick someone who couldn’t even organise a proper elopement.’

She waited to hear his sarcastic laughter at her youthful folly. Her heart thudded as the only sounds were the turning of the carriage wheels.

‘There has never been a whiff of scandal,’ he said finally. ‘I have never heard that Cawburn
eloped with anyone. Not that I don’t believe you, but I am at a loss to explain how such a thing was kept out of the papers. Cawburn has never breathed a word of it, either, not even when he was completely pie-eyed after a Derby win. And he is the sort of repellent individual who regularly boasts about his conquests to anyone who might listen. How did you manage it?’

Sophie’s shoulders sagged slightly. He believed her story, rather than accusing her of lying. Or worse.

‘That was Henri’s doing,’ she said, leaning forwards. Richard had to understand how grateful she was to Henri Montemorcy. ‘She is marvellous at arranging things like that. I shall never know what she said to Lord Cawburn. We’ve never spoken about it. Henri married my guardian soon after. That part was very romantic. It made me realise the importance of true love versus flattery.’

A primitive surge of anger swept through Richard. Sophie had gone through hell and she’d had to rely on Cawburn’s cousin. ‘You spent the night with Cawburn. It is an intriguing little fact. I am surprised your guardian didn’t insist on a marriage.’

‘Henri sorted it out. In the excitement of her marriage to my guardian, my indiscretion was
overlooked, just as Henri predicted. Henri is marvellous. She has been so helpful in showing me how to behave correctly.’

‘Your guardian’s wife must be very good at arranging things.’ Richard struggled to contain his anger and frustration. Cawburn had not suffered at all for his part in this. ‘Most things like that appear within the first months, if not days. How long has it been since it happened?’

‘Nearly four years.’

‘Four years! My God, she is better than good. I’d never have thought Cawburn would keep quiet that long. Of course, if he said anything now, who would believe it?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Why is it that your guardian did not force the marriage? Even if his brain was love-addled, he had to have appreciated the risks to your reputation.’

Sophie winced. And Richard knew his words had come out too harshly.

‘I spent the night barricaded in an inn’s upstairs room. I hit Lord Cawburn with a frying pan when he decided to take liberties and, once he left, I pulled a chest of drawers, a trunk and the bed against the door. I sat up all night with the frying pan in my hand. Lord Cawburn came up twice to shout at me through the keyhole, but I refused to open the door until Henri appeared.’

The muscles in Richard’s shoulders relaxed. Sophie remained an innocent. He had thought he’d have to go and make sure that Cawburn suffered a slow and painful death, but he’d allow him to live. He would simply use his influence to ensure Cawburn had a frosty welcome when he next turned up in London.

Silently he vowed he’d demonstrate that she was wrong in her assessment of him. He wanted to show beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could never do what Cawburn had done to her. He put all thoughts of seduction from him. Sophie needed a friend, not a lover.

‘You hit Cawburn with a frying pan. Thoroughly deserved.’ Richard banged his hand on his knee and barely stopped himself from hugging Sophie. Trust her to sort out Cawburn. ‘What did he do after you hit him once? Did he take the hint that you were no fragile flower and run?’

‘It took three goes, but he went. It is lucky that I know how to play cricket and how to hit the ball hard.’

He laughed out loud.

Sophie smiled back at him. Relief flooded through her. Somehow it made it easier to talk about it. Henri and Robert had never wanted to discuss that night. After they left the inn, Henri
told her it was unnecessary as nothing had happened. But it had and Sophie couldn’t forget it. Sometimes she woke up with a pounding heart, reaching for the frying pan, trying to get it from her bag and finding her bag empty. ‘Three times, but I succeeded in the end.’

He instantly sobered and the fury returned to his face. ‘It should have taken him one, but it should never have to come to that. He should have accepted your no. You did say no, Sophie, before you started swinging your frying pan?’

‘I screamed it!’

‘Good girl. That’s what I like to hear.’ He patted her shoulder. The tiny gesture of approval sent a pulse of warmth throbbing through her. Richard agreed with her actions. ‘But why did you have a frying pan? It is not the usual sort of equipment one carries on an elopement. Are you a keen cook?’

‘When we first met, Henri had warned me that her cousin might have difficulties in understanding no. She thought a hatpin wouldn’t do, but he might need a frying pan applied to his head. I think she was joking when she said it, but I couldn’t be sure. When Sebastian insisted on eloping, I took the frying pan as precaution. I might have been a naïve débutante
and inclined to believe flattery, Richard, but I am far from stupid.’

‘And what happened afterwards? Once you were rescued? Did no one tell you that it was Cawburn to blame, not you? Did your friends explain that you were young and unused to the ways of rogues and cads?’

Sophie looked at her hands. All sorts of things had been said, but she knew they were easy words. The shame at what she’d done and how she’d behaved rose in her throat. ‘Henri told me that I was to forget that it had ever happened. My life was supposed to go on as before. No one would ever know, but I knew. And I have made sure that I am never in situations like that again … until the other night. I thought I was safe. All I was doing was delivering a note from Cynthia. It was the work of a moment. I had no interest in Sir Vincent as a man. Sir Vincent seemed so … so …’

‘Infused with gentlemanly virtue?’ Richard supplied with a bitter twist to his mouth.

‘Exactly, but he wasn’t. He … he called me the same sorts of names and threaten—’

A shudder went through her. Her throat worked up and down, but she knew if she continued, she’d break down in tears. She refused to cry, particularly not in front of Richard.

Without a word, he gathered her into his arms and rested his head on top of hers. Unlike the other times he had held her, this time had a quality of caring and comfort to it. The gentleness of his touch made her feel secure. Safe in a way that she had not felt for years, not since the inn. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

‘What did he say to you?’ he asked, gently stroking her back. ‘Cawburn, I mean. I can guess, but I need to know, Sophie. Can you tell me, please?’