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“I mean that you have spent two nights in the company of the Duke of Pemberton. That is one more night than he has given any woman that came before you.” Rachel paused with the tea and looked back to Sophia. “He has bent all his rules for you. Do you not think it possible that he feels something too?”
Sophia faltered with the rim of the teacup at her lips, wanting to believe it. For a second, her heart thudded harder, and hope began to bloom.
“It was just a deal,” she reminded herself as much as Rachel. “Just… excitement.”
“Was it really only that? Was it just sex?” Rachel smiled a little mischievously. “Or was it making love?”
Sophia nearly dropped the teacup. She was only saved by Rachel reaching out to take the cup from her.
“All I’m saying is that you should not despair before you know his heart. You should tell him how you feel.”
“Tell him!?” Sophia repeated, as if the idea was incredulous to her.
“What do you have to lose?” Rachel asked with a shrug. “All you have, is everything to gain.”
Sophia smiled a little. Her imagination ran away with her, at the possibility of telling Jeremy she loved him, and the chance that he could say it back.
“You should tell him. Tonight at the ball.”
* * *
“It’s a wonder there was a pheasant left in the park today,” Stephen mused as he pressed a glass of claret into Jeremy’s hand.
Jeremy took the glass and sipped from it quickly. He could not deny he had taken part in the sport rather enthusiastically, in the effort to stop himself from thinking of Sophia, even though it hadn’t worked.
“Perhaps I’ll return again tomorrow,” Jeremy said with a smile.
“God’s wounds, you really do have it bad, my friend.” Stephen clapped him on the shoulder in comfort. “Perhaps this ball will help to distract you a little.”
“Hmm,” Jeremy’s answer was non-committal as he looked around the room. The ball was being held by a mutual friend of theirs, who had evidently gone to extravagant lengths to impress his guests.
There was not a stretch of wall not decorated in sheaths of silk and wintry bows. Holly berries and mistletoe lined candelabras, and the ladies and gentlemen that passed underneath the decorated chandeliers oohed and ahh-ed at the appropriate moments, pointing at these beauties.
Jeremy looked past it all, searching for one face.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised you came to this ball, Jeremy,” Stephen said at this side, leaning on the drink’s table. “Would you have come to see someone in particular?”
“Be quiet, Stephen,” Jeremy said tersely, earning a deep chuckle from his friend. “Is my misery amusing to you?”
“What misery?” Stephen still laughed. “Forgive me, yes, you are right, what a tragedy it is to fall in love.”
“Don’t be flippant.”
“I will be flippant, and happily so,” Stephen said firmly, though his smile was still in place. “Do you know what I would give to have fallen in love with any of the women I have met?”
The words startled Jeremy so much that he lowered his claret glass from his lips without taking a sip.
“You don’t want to be in love, Stephen. It only causes pain.” Jeremy could remember the feeling of it. He would wish no such pain on any man, especially his good friend.
“I give up.” Stephen sighed and shook his head, turning his focus out to the crowd gathered for the ball. “Shall we talk of the dancers instead? Or do you wish me to talk of the lady you have come to see tonight?”
“I have not come to see her.” Jeremy’s hand tightened around the glass in his grasp.
“Do not break the crystalware, Jeremy.” Stephen took the glass out of his hand before he could do so. Jeremy breathed deeply, trying to keep his temper calm. Though he struggled. He had come to Stephen for help that day, but he had mostly felt as if Stephen hadn’t understood the problem at all.
This is bad. Very bad! How can Stephen not see that?
“You have come to see her, and we both know it,” Stephen said, placing the glass down on the table behind them.
