“But what about her? You offered to run to Gretna Green, and she declined. If she loves you as much as you love her, wouldn’t she have gone?”
Christopher just stared at his brother, unable to tell Andrew about the other issues.
“Ah, I see. She’s afraid to go against her father’s wishes. I would expect that from her. She is quite the timid mouse.”
Christopher started to laugh and forced himself to cough instead. “Her father rules his domain like a king. Do you know he turned down my suit because sinceIwas interested, he felt she could be married off to someone who would build his own political power?” The thought of Sophie being used that way had Christopher rising.
“Exactly, which is why I asked if you feel the risk of incurring the man’s wrath is worth having Lady Sophie as your wife.”
He moved to the sideboard, which offered but one bottle, scotch. “Would you like one?”
“Of course.”
Christopher poured two glasses. There was no doubt that Lord Dowling would be furious. He might even dare Christopher to reveal Sophie’s birth details. It would horrify her. He had to weigh the odds. He just needed more information before betting his life on his next move.
He brought the two glasses over and handed Andrew one before sitting. “How much importance do you think Lord Dowling places on his standing among thetonand in the House of Lords? You know him better than I do.”
“That’s a better question for my brother-in-law, but from my limited interactions with Dowling and from what I’ve heard others say, I would think his standing in Society is paramount to everything else.”
“That was my impression as well.”
Andrew took a sip of his whiskey before looking at Christopher. “But family is a tricky variable. Emotions, both good and bad, are part of the relationships within the familial unit. Nothing is set.”
“If I told you Dowling has no use for his wife and little use for his daughter except to make himself more important, would you still say to be careful?”
“I would. Like I said, where emotions are involved, there is no absolute foregone conclusion.”
Christopher smiled. Dowling didn’t operate on emotions. He operated on logic. Then again, he could go into a rage. That was a calculated risk Christopher planned to take.
“You’re smiling. May I ask what it is you plan that makes you so confident you can sway the man to your way of thinking?”
“I’m afraid that will remain between Dowling and myself.”
“And Lady Sophie?”
“Of that, I’m not sure. It all depends on how my interview goeswith her father, and the final outcome.”
“Then I will wish you good fortune.” Andrew lifted the glass in a salute.
Christopher lifted his as well. He’d take every good wish he could, because what he planned was, in fact, not only unthinkable but also not done. No, not done at all.
*
Once again, Christopherstood at the window in Lord Dowling’s study. He had no doubt the lord was surprised to hear he’d arrived. That was probably why Dowling had kept him waiting a good half-hour. He’d wait all day if he had to. He was not leaving until he had the promise of Sophie’s hand in marriage.
Turning his back on the window, he surveyed the room. It was tastefully appointed, with a large walnut desk and no fewer than four sets of chairs arranged for conversation, much like they had at White’s. It was easy to see the man used the room for important political discussions, promising a vote on one bill for a vote on his own bill. What was also apparent was the wealth in which Sophie had grown up.
A small doubt crept into his head, but he shook it off. Sophie would have such a life with him, just not immediately.
The door to the study opened and Dowling strode in, obviously impatient. “What is it, Lord Tamworth? I don’t have time for begging. I was quite sure you understood my position on my daughter, unless there is something else you wish to discuss.” The man stopped behind his desk and finally looked at him.
Christopher crossed his arms at being dismissed so easily. “I suppose this would fall under something else I wish to discuss.”
Dowling waved his hand. “Then get on with it.” He sat in his chair and pulled papers toward him.
Christopher ambled toward the desk and stood next to one of the wingback chairs placed before it. “I wish to discuss not Lady Sophie’s marriage, but her birth.”
Dowling froze in place, then he glared up at Christopher. “Her birth? It was as most births are, I suppose. I wasn’t there. That’s women’s business.” He squinched his nose as he said it before returning his attention to the papers before him.
