Not sure why he was relieved that Sophie believed love as important as money, he had to comment. “I was aware that the lady had married below her status, so it’s good to know it was a love match, arranged or not.”
“By a ghost.”
“Right. By a ghost.” Her secret smile had him thinking about how soft her lips were once again. He had to stop thinking about their kisses. It was not gentlemanly. “So like the ghost, do you believe that love is more important than social status?”
“Yes.”
Her immediate answer surprised him. “That is a most unusual opinion.”
She cocked her head. “Do you think so? In the literature I’ve read, love is the most powerful reason for marrying. Just look at poor Antony and Cleopatra.”
“You choose a poor example, I think. For their love ended in tragedy.”
She didn’t answer immediately, instead popping another bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Hmm, I do see your point. Perhaps Baucis and Philemon in Greek mythology, or Beatrice and Benedict inMuch Ado About Nothing, or even Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley inPride and Prejudice.”
He would have to agree the first two proved her point, but the last? “I have not heard ofPride and Prejudice. Is it a very old story?”
She set her teacup down quickly. “How could you have not heard ofPride and Prejudice, written by ‘a lady’?” It is truly a wonderful story. I’ve read all this author has written so far.”
“It is recent, then. That must be why. As you know, my expertise lies in much older works.”
“I highly recommend reading it before searching out a real betrothed. My humble opinion is that you could gain insight into what is important to a lady. Then again, I suppose it depends on the lady. Many of the ladies at this school have a far different mindset than most of the peerage.”
He raised his brows, his curiosity piqued. “Tell me, in what way are your classmates different?”
She set her two fingers to her jaw, a habit he noticed she had when she contemplated a weighty thought. Pleased that she gave his question so much importance, he silently waited, finishing the rest of his meal.
Finally, Sophie looked at him. “Since each woman is unique, to sum up everyone here, I would have to say that they all think differently from most young ladies who have come out.”
He opened his mouth to ask how, but she held up her hand.
“My classmates are interested in learning far more than painting and embroidery, not because they don’t wish to be happy wives, but because instinctually they know that would not be enough for them. They would be forever restless if they could not find that one subject that sparks their intellect and brings an inner joy no matter their circumstances.”
“An inner joy? Is that what these students search for?”
“Not consciously. At least, I don’t believe so. For example, Lady Georgina is desperate to wed. She wishes to be a wife more than almost anything. But there is one thing that brings her happiness even though she is yet unwed. She loves to study birds. On the other hand, Lady Rose is fascinated by the human body and the latest advances in medicine. She seems ambivalent about marrying, but if you break your arm, she’ll be the first to your side to set it. She’s so joyful in those instances that she practically glows. I believe that this inner joy is what will make every one of my classmates a happy wife if they marry for love.”
Her observations and contention were so profound that he found himself attempting to find an error in her reasoning, but if what she stated was true about her classmates, he could understand how marrying such a woman would be most fulfilling for her husband as well. “And what of you? I must assume that literature is what makes you joyful, for I have seen it in your face when you discuss it. Does that mean that you can only love a man who enjoys the sameinterest?”
She laughed, a soft but full laugh. “Not at all. The subject of joy is personal to each of us. And truly, how boring to have a spouse who likes the same subject. I think it would be far more stimulating to have different interests, as then there is more to learn about each other.”
It was no surprise that she’d given much thought as to what type of man she would marry, whereas he had not thought at all about his future wife. He had far too many goals to accomplish before contemplating what he wished for in such a woman, but talking to her… “I believe that I would like a wife from this school.”
Her gaze left his, moving to where he held his wine glass. “That would be a wise decision, I’m sure. I sincerely hope that two years from now, you will have many ladies to choose from.”
Her sudden shyness bothered him because he instinctually knew he was the cause. He let go of the stem of his wine glass and laid his hand upon hers, which rested next to her empty bowl. She wore no gloves and the feel of her soft skin almost stopped his breath, but not completely. “I would like a lady very much like you, I think.”
Her gaze snapped to his and her lips parted.
As he lost himself in the depths of her green eyes, he knew he lied. He didn’t want someonelikeher as a wife. He wanted her. Even as that truth settled in his gut, a hundred problems arose in his mind with such a possibility.
As Sophie jerked her gaze away to scan the kitchen, he did as well. Surprised, yet pleased, that Mrs. Boyd was no longer there, he boldly clasped Sophie’s hand beneath his. He shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself. There was a connection with her that was right, much like his instincts had told him to make the bet with Harewood. He just knew.
“Tam, I don’t think…”
His heart skipped a beat at her name for him. “Then don’t think.” He lifted his other hand to cup her face. “Just feel.”
Her tongue came out and she licked her lips. Then she lifted herfree hand and cupped his face. Her soft touch sent a glow of warmth throughout his body like stepping into the sunshine after walking through a dark, cold wood.
