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“What did Abbott mean?” Harry asked her quietly. He had drawn her close, closer than the dance required, and she felt the brush of his body against hers. A tremble began deep inside her.
He’s not yours, she reminded herself. He will never be yours.
“Sophy? About you going north to his estate?”
She met his eyes without flinching, “I believe he is going to ask me to be his wife.”
If she hadn’t been looking she might not have seen the flash of emotion. Jealousy. Possessive jealousy. Harry still thought of her as his, and that made her catch her breath, and then it made her angry.
“Don’t say yes. Not yet,” he said with a sudden urgent intensity. “Wait. Will you do that, Sophy?”
“Harry, you must know how that sounds,” she responded fiercely. “After what you said the other night … You have no right to ask anything of me! This was a mistake …”
She would have pulled away but he held her hand tightly in his, the other firmly gripped her waist, refusing to let her go. “I know how this sounds. I’m sorry for the other night. But will you wait? Tell Abbott you will consider his proposal, there is nothing wrong in that. Please give me a little more time.”
“Harry, you had three years,” she reminded him quietly. “I waited for you for three years and only found you again because of Adam.”
“I explained about the letter and my father,” he said, and there was a desperate note in his voice. “I apologised, Sophy. I’ll keep apologising, every day of my life, until you forgive me.”
“That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to keep apologising,” she said, looking away, her throat raw. “I meant that it is time to end whatever this is between us. We’ll always have our memories, but they should be left in the past now, Harry. Please, do this for me. I need to let you go.”
He closed his eyes and bent his head until his forehead was pressed to hers. His arms went around her and held her tight, and he was no longer even pretending to waltz. Sophy knew she should pull away before he caused another scandal but he was speaking again.
“I won’t let you go because it’s not in the past. Not for me. I need you to wait for me just a little longer. I can’t tell you how, not yet, but I am going to make everything all right again.”
“You talk in riddles,” she whispered and finally drew away, putting some space between them.
His laugh made her think he had become unhinged. “I am, aren’t I? Sophy …” She felt his fingers against her cheek, in her hair, and his breath warm on her lips as if he was going to kiss her.
“Harry, please don’t,” she gasped. “Not when people can see us. You can’t do this to me, not when you’re not mine. And I’m not yours.”
“I love you,” he said. “I loved you before and I love you still.”
“Harry,” she said, “let me go.”
He leaned in, and breathed, “Take shelter, my lady.”
In an instant she was carried back to a time when she was five and Harry was seven. She had been reading a book about King Arthur and his knights, and then Sir Arbuthnot had come seeking Harry for something he hadn’t done. Take shelter, my lady, Harry had pretended to be a gallant knight, hiding her under the desk. And she had stayed there while his father beat him for that something he hadn’t done.
She could see he knew she had remembered. “Harry?” she whispered, confused more than ever.
Just as a shrill voice rang out from across the lawn. “There you are, Harry Baillieu!”
He looked up and his eyes widened. Sophy turned and saw a woman approach them. It wasn’t Evelyn. This woman was dark haired, wore a plain day dress, and in her arms was a baby. She barely noticed Adam lingering in the woman’s wake. Sophy felt Harry stiffen, and then he seemed to relax, as if accepting his fate.
“I tried to stop her,” Adam called out, “but she won’t be stopped, brother.” His expression was apologetic and yet something like glee shone in his eyes. Just for a moment they were on Sophy in a knowing look. “I hope you’re prepared for this,” he said as he drew closer. “My brother is about to be heroic.”
Chapter 26
HARRY
Harry would have preferred Adam to wait a few more minutes before he launched his conspirator upon them. Selfishly he had wanted to hold Sophy a little bit longer, even if he couldn’t tell her what was happening until it was done. So many things could still go wrong and even if they didn’t, he hadn’t wanted her involved in the ensuing scandal. Then, unable to bear her leaving him and thinking the worst, he’d blurted out those long ago words.
He recognised the woman—the same one his brother had brought to him a couple of nights ago. This time her clothing was more respectable, and her face was clean of powder and rouge. She looked like a shopkeeper’s wife fallen on hard times. She wasn’t a surprise—Adam had told Harry what he intended before they arrived today—but the baby was. A convincing addition.
Gasps sounded all around them and the musicians began to falter. At his side Sophy stared with shocked eyes, and James Abbott had come to take her arm, drawing her away as if he feared she might be contaminated by the coming scandal. Despite his hackles ris
ing at the thought of another man touching her, he was relieved to have her safe. He didn’t want Sophy caught up in this and he knew he shouldn’t have asked her to dance. When he’d seen the two of them together, so serious, he’d know he had to speak to her and convince her not to marry James. Because if she did then all of this would have been for nothing.
