Chapter Twenty-Nine

Henry did not know of what ball he was in attendance. The room blurred into insignificance the moment he spied Sophie across the ballroom floor. This evening she wore a ruby empire-cut gown with a bodice that left little to a man's imagination. The dress had hundreds of tiny sparking jewels sewn upon it, and they glistened with her every move or flicker of candlelight.

His duchess caught the attention of anyone present.

His especially.

He watched her without her awareness. She was beautiful and joyful as she stood with a group of ladies, deep in conversation and enjoying the ball. After Kemsley's visit, he thought about his actions and reactions to what he had learned about Sophie and Lord Carr.

Guilt prickled and warned him that his response was not what it should have been. At the very least, he should have given her the opportunity to explain what had happened. Lord Carr had never been a particularly truthful gentleman. He should not have believed his anecdote so quickly and ignored his wife's pleas after the fact.

What a bastard he had been.

He waved away the opportunity for wine from a passing footman. His consumption of such liquid was too excessive of late, and he wanted a clear, cool head this evening. Sophie deserved no less.

That is if she would speak to him.

She would be well within her bounds to refuse to.

The thought that he had made a mistake in judging her, punishing her without giving her the time to explain, was ungentlemanly and contemptible. Even his reason as to why he reacted in such a way was no excuse.

He loved her.

Adored her more than was possibly healthy.

The idea that she had given herself to another broke him in two. After hearing of her past, he had concluded that Sophie giving herself to Carr had been a mutual decision.

But after Kemsley's visit the other evening, he was no longer so sure. His friend had hinted that there was more to that night that involved Sophie that he needed to hear and know.

The thought that her secret was not of her making made his blood run cold.

She laughed, her eyes sparkling in amusement, and his chest hurt that he was not beside her, being part of what made her merry. For the past two weeks, he had been nothing but misery in her life.

He ought to be horsewhipped.

The idea, too horrendous to imagine, floated through his mind yet again. What if Sophie did not permit her night with Lord Carr? A rage unlike any he'd ever sensed flickered to life at the thought. What if he had judged her, thrown her aside, his wife, his heart and love, and because of a lie?

Sophie glanced up, and their eyes met, held. She studied him momentarily before her lips thinned into a displeased line, and she moved her attention elsewhere.

Dear God, she hated him.

He had lost her because he was a stupid, pigheaded fool who would not listen.

"She will speak to you if you ask her to," Kemsley said, coming up to his side and throwing him a resigned look.

Henry clamped his jaw shut and fought the emotion that coiled within him. He had made a mistake. No matter what Sophie needed to tell him, he knew he could not turn his back on her.

He could not hate her whether she went to Lord Carr's bed willingly or against her will.

He loved her no matter what, and seeing her again only cemented that fact.

"Will she?" he said, not taking his eyes off his wife.

"She will, and you will listen to her, and you will right whatever wrongs between you because you love her as she loves you. You will make this right, Holland. I have faith in you, my friend," he said, clapping him on the back before moving off into the crowd.

He watched as Sophie was asked to dance by Mr. Temple and led out onto the ballroom floor. Jealousy coursed through his blood as he watched her be spun about the room, enjoying her evening, and not in the arms of her husband.

He deserved to watch her with another after treating her so disrespectfully, ignoring her pleas for him to listen. He deserved everything she meted out.

He did not deserve her love. That was more than evident tonight.

Sophie did her very best to ignore Henry, who stood in the ballroom watching her every move. She ignored the pit of her stomach that churned at the despondent countenance that settled on his person.

She would not forgive him. Not after his weeks of silence and abandonment. He deserved to rot in his pool of loathing for her, stay there, and never leave.

Mr. Temple said something, and she nodded, agreeing without having to participate too much in their conversation while they danced. Not that she could concentrate, not with her handsome husband watching her every move. She could feel his eyes burning a path up her spine whenever she gave him her back.

She supposed she was a little put-off, taken aback that he was here at all. He had not reached out to her since the day he had stormed from their home two weeks before.

Did his presence here this evening mean he was willing to listen to her? Little good that would do him now. He had his chance to hear what the woman he was supposed to love had to say, and he had ignored her pleas.

Instead, he had believed that cur Lord Carr and left her alone in their home.

Well, not entirely alone, she supposed. Her stomach flipped at the hope that she was carrying their child. At first, she thought her sickness and upset stomach had been due to Henry's leaving, but as the days passed and the sickness became more regular and severe, she was not so sure.

Of course, she was still upset that Henry refused to listen to her, but anger had replaced those emotions. But the sickness prevailed.

Her maid, indeed, had noted her condition and had started to bring in ginger biscuits each morning along with her cup of tea.

She supposed she would have to tell Henry her news, not that he deserved to know. Shame washed through her. No, he would be pleased he was to be a father. That was if he believed the child was his and not someone else's.

Who knew what was going through that man's mind after so many days of being locked up in his lodgings?

The dance came to an end, and instead of leading her back to her group of friends, Mr. Temple walked her toward Henry. Panic assailed her at having to speak to Henry. The idea of fleeing back to her friends almost made her take the first step, but no. She needed to face him and whatever future they would have. If they had one.

"Your Grace," Mr. Temple said, placing Sophie's hand on Henry's arm as if she were being given away like a sacrificial lamb. "Good evening to you both," he said before leaving them.

Sophie could feel the eyes of the ton sporadically looking their way. She kept her gaze ahead of her on the dancing couples, knowing that if she looked at Henry, her defenses might crumble.

And they could not. He needed to know he could not treat her so abhorrently ever again.

"Sophie?"

Her whispered name made her want to throw herself into his arms. Beg him to listen, to understand. "Your Grace, I did not expect to see you here this evening," she replied, glad her voice remained emotionless. A good start and one she needed to continue.

"I wanted to see you." He reached for her hand, clasping it in his. His thumb rubbed the top of hers in a comforting embrace he often did. Little good it would do him.

"Really?" she said, attempting to sound shocked. She met his gaze and raised her brows. "After two weeks of silence, I find that hard to believe. You are not here to see me, Your Grace. You're here to see who else I can throw myself at, so you may also judge me on that."

"Never," he sighed. "Let us return home and speak. I'm ready to listen now. I was not before, and I apologize for that."

"Oh, you're ready," she scoffed. "And you're sorry." She shook her head, her temper taking hold. She wanted to hurt him, be cruel, cold and unkind, just as he had been. Against her nature and better judgment, she could not stop. Sophie pulled her hand free, ignoring the pleading light in his eyes.

"I'm here to enjoy the ball. If you're home when I return, we may then speak but do not expect me to be home early. I shall return when I'm ready. Good evening, Your Grace," she said, leaving him gaping after her.

Sophie strode away, using all the willpower she could to do so.

Nothing had ever been so hard in her life.