But now, surely, he would simply tear Jonathan limb from limb, and while a death in a dual might escape the full penalties of the law, hot-blooded murder would not. Although if anyone could cover it up, it would be a duke with experience in some of the wilder parts of the world…
What was she thinking? Sophie flung back the covers and began to pace the room. Murder was not an answer. It was never the answer to anything. She had to get herself out of this quagmire, the swamp she had got herself into because she was such a terrible judge of men. She had thought she had paid for that mistake, but apparently not.
The first thing was to write to Mr Tanner. Anonymity would have to be sacrificed. Her sitting room contained a lady’s desk, set out with fine notepaper, ink and pens, sealing wax and all the accessories she could possibly want.
The situation has become urgent. Please contact me as soon as possible at Calderbrook Park, Somerset, with any information, via the shop next door to you. I have bought a cane from them, they can send me a receipt. Sophie Wilmott. Miss.
PS Please pay the shopkeeper whatever you think is appropriate and charge it to my account.
She sealed that, addressed it to Mr Tanner, then put it within a note to the owner of the shop next door, promising recompense for a delivering the enclosure and forwarding the reply under cover of a receipt for the cane she had bought.
Her mother, thank goodness, did not insist on reading all her correspondence as the mothers of many of her friends did, but she was sure to ask, out of interest, what post Sophie had received. A discreet wave of the receipt and a whisper that it was about Cal’s gift, would be almost truthful and would prevent her mother asking any more questions.
She stamped firmly on a fantasy of Mr Tanner’s large associates kidnapping Jonathan and handing him over to the press gang and made herself face the reality of what to do next. Sooner or later, and probably by seven at the latest, she was going to have to emerge, apologise for her indisposition and face Jonathan. He was certain to want a tête à tête, so that he could gloat and put on more pressure for money, so she had to be calm and collected and confident when that happened.
She would stick to what she had said to Jonathan before, that Cal knew she had lost her virginity, but she knew he would still threated to tell all and sundry just where that had happened, embroidering the tale until it became a shocking one of orgies and excess. She was prepared to face that down – she was, after all, known in Society for her blameless character – but she could guess what Cal’s reaction would be. And Step Papa’s. She could imagine them coming to blows over who was going to disembowel Jonathan first with Toby hot on their heels.
So, until she could find some weapon to counter his threats she was going to have to deal with the blackmailing demands for money. Jonathan could be led to believe she had very little now, that Step Papa gave her only a small allowance of pin money and insisted on having all her bills delivered to him. Then she could promise to pay him when she was married, and surely he would think her more vulnerable to continued demands when she was the duchess, because she would have so much more to lose.
Yes, that was the approach. Appear to yield and agree to pay in the future and meanwhile hope and pray that Mr Tanner came up with sufficient discreditable history to apply blackmail of her own. All while keeping this from Cal’s sharp eyes and playing the part of the modest, but happy, fiancée.
No-one said being a duchess was going to be easy.
Cal came across the drawing room towards her, his hand held out, and Sophie found herself smiling back with real pleasure. I do like this man, please let me keep him.
‘Sophie, darling.’ He lowered his voice as he reached her and took her hands in his. ‘Should you be out of bed?’
‘It is nothing,’ she murmured back, with a smile directed across the room to her mother. ‘I think I must have been more nervous than I realised and I get horrible headaches when I become very tense.’ A glance around the room told her that all of the guests must have arrived and the long chamber was full enough for her to be unable to see Jonathan. ‘I should speak to your aunt and apologise for not being here when she arrived. I have met her in London often enough for her to know I would not deliberately neglect the courtesy.’
Lady Peter was a big woman, bony rather than fat, and surprisingly colourless for such a large physical presence. She rose when Cal brought Sophie to her, smiled wanly and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Dear girl,’ she murmured. ‘So happy.’