“He had already given it to her, days before. And, lest you forget, he was in his dressing gown. And the hour is also significant. One in the morning.”
The scene he described finally took root. She bowed her head, still confused by the juxtaposition of the two realities.
“Frank has never pursued anyone like you, Miss Edwards. I have known him since Eton. He is a womanizer. You are far too good for him.”
A sharp blade sliced through her heart, cutting dead her happiness.
“Please go,” she managed.”I do not wish to hear any more.”
~~*
Fanny would find her in her room. Sophie sought the attics. There was an empty room at the end of the house that was used as a lumber room.
She wore her prettiest day gown, a soft, green muslin embroidered with daisies she had donned in expectation of Frank’s proposal. Heedless, she knelt in the dust, her eyes hot with staring, her hands sweaty and cold.
The evidence that Frank held nothing sacred was indisputable. He would manipulate beautiful words and actions to gain his ends. But if his tastes were as low as Lady Manwaring, why had he wanted to marry her? Her beauty was slight, her consequence nonexistent in his world. His passion for her had seemed genuine, but she was a stranger to passion. Awakening her to lovemaking, Frank had completely taken her in. How many hundreds of women had he kissed that way?
An hour of such thoughts brought her to outrage. Seething, she sought an outlet for her anger. Sophie gripped the fabric of her gown at the hem. Using both hands, she tore the flimsy material from hem to waist. The ripping sound was so satisfactory, she did it again and again. Soon, her lovely dress was nothing more than a rag.
Sophie collapsed in tears.
~~*
Even in the attic, she could hear the insistence of the door knocker. Then her sister’s voice, calling her name, floated through the house. Sophie was stretched out on the floor, her face in the dust. Her tears were past. Now she was only exhausted. She slept.
She did not know how much later it was that Fanny shook her awake. Her sister was holding a candle.
“Dearest Sophie, what has happened to you? What are you doing here? Frank has been awaiting you for hours. Why are you hiding?”
Her head was so heavy, Sophie could not lift it. “Tell Frank that I do not wish to see him. Ever again. I am too weary to explain, Fan. Just let me be.”
Her sister started to speak, but evidently changed her mind. Sophie heard her footsteps as Fanny crossed the attic and went back down the stairs. Struggling to a sitting position, Sophie looked out the tiny window into the twilight, waiting to see Frank’s figure walk away.
He did not leave immediately. In perhaps half an hour, when the sun was completely set, she saw his once-beloved figure walk down the steps and out into the street. Moments later, Fan was back in the lumber room, carrying a letter with her lantern.
“When Perkins told us that Lord Shrewsbury had been here, Frank insisted on writing you. Please read it, Soph. I cannot bear to see you so miserable.”
With a faint spark of hope, Sophie took the piece of paper and unfolded it.
My darling Sophie,
I cannot imagine what has caused you to hide yourself away and refuse to see me. However, when Perkins told Fanny that Lord Shrewsbury had called, I began to have a bit of an idea.
Shrewsbury is determined to have you. He has always been my friend, but his desire for you must have turned the friendship sour.
Obviously, he has told you something to my discredit. I cannot imagine what it was, but I would beg you to examine his words closely, for they may be a deliberate falsehood.
I love you, Sophie. I have never professed nor pretended to love anyone else. I pray that we may overcome whatever has caused this breach and be together as we have hoped and dreamed.
Yours from eternity to eternity,
Frank
Frank had no idea Shrewsbury had seen him with Lady Manwaring, so of course he could not imagine what the man had told her.
Is there any chance at all that Shrewsbury lied to me? How could she ever be certain? Then she knew. I will call on Lady Manwaring.
{ 16 }
FRANK ROAMED THE STREETS of Mayfair, his head swimming. When he thought of the future, he was consumed with dread. He fought down a sense of panic. Sophie wishes never to see you again.
His heart was not functioning correctly—he was breathless. Putting a hand on a lamppost, he leaned on it to steady himself. Breathe.