Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

He did not say a single word to me. I found him to be… most rude. He is our host, after all, and… I would have expected something more. Still, we await dinner, and what the evening brings, Sophia wrote, setting down her quill and closing her diary.

She was assiduous in recording the minutiae of her day. It was her father who had suggested it on her tenth birthday, presenting her with an elegant, leather-bound journal in which to write. Since then, Sophia had written in her diary every day without fail. It contained the details of her life – who she saw, where she went, even what she ate. But it also contained her thoughts and feelings – her most intimate confessions. There was nothing she did not tell her diary, and she trusted it with all her secrets.

“Sophia, are you ready?” Penelope’s voice came from beyond the door.

Sophia stowed the diary hurriedly under a shawl, calling out for Penelope to enter. Her maid – Spencer – had helped her and gone, and Sophia had changed into a purple evening gown, ready for dinner.

“Oh, what a lovely dress you’re wearing, Penelope,” Sophia said as Penelope entered the room.

It was yellow, with lace trim at the sleeves and a wide neck. Sophia and Penelope were not yet on intimate enough terms in their friendship to engage into anything more than superficial conversation. In the drawing room, they had talked about the weather, and the coming Season, and a shared interest in botany.

They were on friendly terms, but Sophia would hardly have called those terms intimate. Nevertheless, she liked Penelope, and she was glad to be in her company, even as her brother had proved himself to be everything she had already believed about him. The look he had given her across the drawing room – the indifferent aloofness etched on his face – was one she would not forget. It was as though he had no desire whatsoever to make himself amenable, or likeable.

“And so are you – the purple looks just right on you. Are you ready to go downstairs?” Penelope asked, and Sophia nodded.

Despite the Duke’s cold welcome earlier, she was looking forward to dinner. The other guests were an amusing collection of the Dowager Duchess’s friends, particularly the Batley sisters, who had informed Sophia they would “read her” later.

“We need time to suitably absorb your aura,” one of them had said, and they had promised to tell her what the future held in store for her later that evening.

“Oh, yes. I’m sure we’ll find Ethan yapping at your brother’s heels like a lapdog,” Sophia said, looping her arm through Penelope’s as they left the room.

“Was it a blow to think your cousin should inherit everything?” Penelope asked.

Sophia nodded. She knew it was the way of things. A woman could not inherit a title, even as her father might have thought differently. But Ethan’s arrival and his subsequent takeover had left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her mother had not seemed bothered by the fact, content to drift into the sedate life of a dowager countess without complaint. But Sophia was different, and it had felt to her as though an injustice had been done.

“Yes, it was. And perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a blow if it hadn’t been Ethan,” Sophia replied.

She made no secret of her feelings towards Ethan. The two of them did not see eye to eye. They argued, and whenever Ethan tried to gain the upper hand or assert himself over her, Sophia would do her best to fight back. The invitation to the house party, and its accompanying expectations, were a case in point. Sophia did not intend to bow to her cousin’s demands – to find a husband, any husband…

“You don’t like him, do you?” Penelope said, and Sophia smiled.

“Do you like your brother? He seems intent on being rude to everyone, apart from Peter. I saw the way he looked at Ethan – full of disdain,” Sophia said, and Penelope sighed.

“He’s always been good to me. But I’m his sister, I suppose. Anyway, I hope he’ll make more of an effort this evening. He really can be… a delight, when he wants to be,” Penelope replied.

Sophia could not imagine this to be the case, but she knew, too, her own predisposition to judge on first impressions, and she had certainly found Jasper’s attitude wanting. A murmur of voices was coming from the drawing room, and as they entered, they found the other guests assembled, all of them changed for dinner, and sipping sherry served to them by liveried footmen bearing silver trays.

“Ah, Sophia, I thought you weren’t coming. What kept you?” Ethan hissed, shaking his head, but Penelope interjected.

“A lady can’t be hurried when it comes to getting ready, My Lord,” she said, and Sophia smiled – she liked to see Ethan put in his place, and her cousin now forced a smile and nodded.

“Yes, of course,” he said, and Sophia gave him a pointed look.

It being nearly midsummer, the evening was still light, and doors from the drawing room led out onto a terrace at the back of the house. The Batley sisters had been “taking the air,” and they returned to the room with exuberance, claiming the scent of the roses in the garden was doing wonders for their second sight.

“Gather the young people, Nora. We must share the vitality the roses have given us,” the one called Helen said, and her sister now beckoned Sophia and Penelope over.

Given the makeup of the guests, the only “young people” were Sophia, Penelope, Ethan, Peter, and the Duke. Jasper and his friend had been standing by the window, but at Nora’s insistence, they joined the party, the Duke still with the same aloof, indifferent look on his face. Sophia looked at him, smiling, even as he made no attempt to engage with her. She did not understand his animosity. He seemed determined to remain as detached – as rude – as he could.

“One always benefits from the presence of the young. Don’t you think so, Nora? Now… whose palm haven’t we read?” Helen said, glancing around at the younger members of the party standing in a semi-circle in front of them.

“Sophia’s,” Penelope said, much to Sophia’s annoyance.

She did not want to be the center of attention, but Helen now seized on the fact, snatching Sophia’s hand in hers and drawing her into the center of the semi-circle.

Sophia did not believe in fortune telling – palm readings, tea leaves, the meaning of a card drawn at random from a deck… it meant nothing to her, even as it seemed that others took it very seriously.

“What’s her fortune to be?” Penelope asked as Helen held Sophia’s hand in hers, examining it and tracing the lines with the tip of her finger.

“Yes… oh, yes…” she said, closing her eyes and emitting a low hum from between her lips.

“She’s absorbing your energy,” Nora said, and Sophia waited patiently for Helen to stop absorbing whatever energy she deemed present in Sophia’s hand.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, gazing straight at Sophia and letting out a deep sigh.

“Love, it’s as simple as that. Your love line has reached its zenith. You’re at the end of your journey, my dear. You’ve found him,” she said, with a look of the utmost satisfaction on her face.

Sophia did not think she had found anyone, and certainly not her love – whatever Helen might think. She glanced at Penelope, who, to her bemusement, clapped her hands together in delight.

“Did you hear that, Sophia? You’ve found love,” she exclaimed, but Sophia shook her head.

“But I haven’t,” she replied, glancing at the others – at her cousin, at Peter, and at the Duke.

Ethan shrugged. “I wish you would,” he said, shaking his head and turning away.

Peter smiled at her. “You never know,” he said.

The Duke, who until this point had remained silent, shook his head. “I think your predictions are off the mark, Aunt Helen,” he said.

Sophia was taken aback by these words – even as she knew them to be true. It was one thing to deny them for herself, but how did the Duke of Weston know if Sophia had or had not found love…

“Is that so?” Sophia asked, fixing the Duke with an angry glare.

He looked somewhat taken aback to be challenged.

“Well… you said so yourself, didn’t you? By the look on your face,” he replied, but Sophia continued to glare at him.

He had not so much as spoken a single word to her since her arrival, and now he had the audacity to tell her she was without love or the prospect of love. Helen looked somewhat askance.

“Well… interpreting a love line isn’t easy, you know,” Helen said, her voice changing from the vaguely mystical to the indignant.

“I’m sure it was very kind of you,” Sophia said, and Helen nodded.

“Come along, let’s go and look at the rose garden again,” Nora said, taking Helen by the arm.

Sophia looked at Jasper, who shrugged, turning to Peter and smirking.

“She hates it when someone doesn’t immediately agree with her,” he said.

“Perhaps I did agree with her. How do you know I don’t have a suitor waiting for me beyond these walls?” Sophia said, still feeling offended by Jasper’s comments.

He looked at her and shrugged. “Well, I suppose I don’t, do I? But if you did, I suppose, you wouldn’t be here, would you?” he said.

Sophia looked at him incredulously. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded, and he shrugged.

“Well, these sorts of places are the perfect hunting ground for a husband, aren’t they?” he replied.

Sophia was about to retort, but the gong rang, and the guests began making their way out of the drawing room and into the dining room for dinner. Sophia walked with Penelope, for the Duke had made no offer to escort her, now being deep in conversation with Peter.

“Is he always like this?” Sophia whispered as they entered the dining room, where the table was set for a lavish dinner.

“Like what?” Penelope asked, for it seemed she was entirely oblivious to her brother’s rudeness.

“He’s rude,” Sophia replied, feeling somewhat exasperated at the thought of Penelope failing to see her brother’s faults.

Penelope smiled and shrugged, and now they sat down at the table, where Sophia found herself next to the Duke, and with her cousin sitting opposite her.

Jasper ignored her and spent most of the evening conversing with Peter, who was sitting on his right. A soup was served, followed by various fowls, brought to the table with great ceremony. It was a distracting spectacle, but not enough for Penelope to forget the Duke’s treatment of her. He seemed determined to prove himself rude and unwelcoming.

A selection of ices were served, followed by cheese and a pie made from early summer fruits. Only at this point – forced by Peter having turned to his own neighbor – did the Duke deign to speak to Sophia.

“I trust… you find your accommodation suitable, and comfortable?” he said, and Sophia nodded.

“Yes, thank you, I do. Very much so,” she said, and he nodded.

“Good, yes, well… here we are,” he replied, forcing what seemed like a smile.

“To find a husband, you mean? That’s what you were suggesting earlier, wasn’t it?” Sophia said, and the merest hint of a blush crept up Jasper’s face.

“Well, I… yes, but… am I wrong?” he asked, and Sophia raised her eyebrows.

“Women are always looking for husbands – isn’t that we’re meant to believe? A universal truth, that an unmarried woman must be in want of a husband. It’s men who say, of course,” she said, and to her surprise, the Duke smiled.

It was the slightest of smiles, but a smile, nonetheless, and he nodded.

“I suppose they do, yes. But not you?” he asked, and Sophia shook her head, not wishing to answer either way.

“I understand you’re involved in all manner of business ventures,” Sophia said, for she knew it would be churlish not to make some attempt at conversation, and she could not think of anything else to say, save for repeating something her cousin had said during their carriage ride earlier that day.

“Yes, though if your cousin was to have anything to do with it, I’d be investing my money in the slave trade,” Jasper said, shaking his head.

Sophia drew a sharp intake of breath. She knew Ethan’s beliefs on that matter, and they had thrashed out what Sophia saw as nothing but the very worst of human nature expressed.

“Well… Ethan has his own opinion on that matter,” Sophia replied.

“As do I. I find the whole thing abhorrent,” Jasper said, and Sophia was taken aback by the force of his words.

“You… lost money, I understand. The inheritance…” she said, but the look on his face suggested she had said the wrong thing, and she regretted it immediately.

He glared at her. “My father lost the money. I’m in the process of recuperating it,” he snapped.

“Well, I wasn’t to know, was I? I only asked a question,” she said.

The Duke seemed taken aback, as though he was not used to having someone – and especially a woman – answer back. He glared at her.

“I’ll make the money back, and I’ll do it without resorting to the slave trade, too,” he replied.

“I’m glad to hear it, Your Grace,” Sophia said.

She was glad when Jasper’s mother rose to her feet and offered the ladies coffee in the drawing room, whilst the men would continue to drink the port in the dining room and smoke.

“It’s been… a pleasure,” Sophia said as she rose to her feet.

The Duke looked at her with a curious expression. It seemed to appear disdaining, and yet clearly he had enjoyed something of their banter.

“Yes… likewise,” he replied, and Sophia forced a smile, determined to be magnanimous in her retreat.

She had not enjoyed the dinner. If anything, it had only served to confirm what she already thought about Jasper. He was an arrogant man who would make no attempt to be polite, even as she had done nothing except trying to make conversation. It was made worse by the fact that Penelope did not see his faults. It was as though she was blind to them, or simply willing to ignore the fact of his rudeness, given it was not directed at her.

The women now made their way to the drawing room, and a game of cards was proposed – Loo – the ladies sitting at a green plush topped card table as the cards were dealt.

“I didn’t mean to upset you earlier, Sophia. The energy can often be so strong. It can be quite overwhelming,” Helen said.

Nora nodded, fixing Sophia with an intense gaze. “There’s a great deal of energy coming from you, dear. We can both feel it. You’re destined for something. It’s hard to say what. But it’s true,” she said.

Sophia smiled and nodded. They were harmless enough, even as she knew for certain she was destined for nothing but the coming days of monotony in the company of people she had little interest in keeping the company of…

“Are we all in??” the Dowager Duchess asked, and the others nodded.

Sophia, Penelope, the Batley sisters, Lady Frighton, and the Dowager Duchess now began to play. Sophia won several tricks, but it was Penelope who emerged victorious, claiming six tricks by the time the clock on the mantelpiece struck eleven.

“Oh, I feel so tired,” Lady Frighton said, rising to her feet and yawning.

The Dowager Duchess did the same, and it seemed the evening had come to its natural end. Sophia was disappointed. She liked to stay up late and was not yet tired at all. But Penelope, too, was flagging, and it seemed the party would now disperse.

“Perhaps a walk tomorrow – in the garden. A picnic, too?” the Dowager Duchess said, and the older women agreed enthusiastically.

“Oh, yes. I do enjoy a picnic,” Nora said.

Sophia felt less inclined to enthusiasm, but a picnic would be pleasant enough. It was all pleasant enough, even as she would have far preferred to be at home with Arthur and Rose. Usually, at this time, Sophia would retire to the library, reading by candlelight long into the night, with her cats asleep on her lap.

But now it seemed she had little choice but to go to bed, parting with Penelope on the landing, and promising to see her at breakfast the next morning. But as she made her way to her bedroom, wondering what she could do to entertain herself as she waited for tiredness to overcome her, footsteps behind caused her to turn around. The landing was lit by candlelight, and the figure of the Duke now came into view.

“I trust you enjoyed a pleasant game of cards? Did my sister win? She usually does,” Jasper said, and Sophia nodded.

“She did, yes – six tricks,” Sophia replied, and to her surprise, the Duke laughed.

“Yes, that sounds right. She always had a natural talent when it came to cards,” he said.

Sophia smiled. “Did you teach her?” she asked, and the Duke shook his head.

“No, she learned from our father. He was a natural when it came to cards, but a failure when it came to other forms of gambling. I think he thought the risks he took would always pay off.”

“And what about you? Are you a natural gambler?” she asked.

Alone with the Duke, she did not feel afraid of him, but rather… intrigued. Candles burned in sconces on the walls, and in the flickering light, he narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not a gambler – neither at cards nor in life,” he replied.

Sophia smiled.

“Don’t we all gamble at times? Isn’t it inevitable?” she asked, feeling certain there were times in her own life when a gamble would have to be made.

“Well… if I do, I always ensure the odds are in my favor,” he replied.

Sophia felt certain this was true. The Duke, it seemed, possessed something of a ruthless nature – a man could surely not regain a fortune without one – and Sophia wondered how he had gone about securing those odds for himself.

“Yes, well… life without a few risks would be dull, wouldn’t it?” she said, not wanting to allow him the last word.

But he scoffed at her and laughed, stepping forward and causing her heart to skip a beat as he brought his face close to hers.

“Take a risk if you like, but don’t bring others down with you. I wish you goodnight,” he replied, stepping past her and walking off down the corridor.

Sophia was left alone, wondering what the Duke had meant by his words. There were so many different sides to him, and she was yet to understand fully what he was really like.

As she lay down to sleep, Sophia could not help but feel intrigued as to what the coming days would bring, and whether the Duke would prove her first impressions of him wrong…