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Authors: Michelle Styles

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical

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BOOK: An Ideal Husband?
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‘I am sure he would have done, Sophie, if his mother was the reason for being in Newcastle,’ her stepmother said soothingly, handing Lord Hallington another piece of seed cake. ‘You have upset Sophie by implying differently, Lord Hallington. Do you know if your son and your former wife are in contact with each other? Do you even know for certain that she resides in Newcastle now? People do move about so these days, not like when I was young.’

‘I have no idea.’ The colour in Lord Hallington’s
face subsided. ‘I don’t want him being hurt. I can forgive most things, but I can’t forgive what that woman did to my boy. How could a mother treat her child like that? Even now it makes my blood boil and the doctor has told me it does nothing for my heart.’

‘Did you ever tell him why you didn’t want him in Newcastle?’ Sophie asked, curious.

‘Of course not!’

‘Well, then, you are making mountains out of molehills,’ Sophie argued. Her stepmother was right. Richard would have confided in her something so important as his mother living in Newcastle. ‘Think about the consequences if you had accused Richard of it.’

Privately she decided that when they returned from their wedding trip, she’d make an effort to find the woman and see if she wanted her son in her life. She knew that if either of her parents were alive, she’d want to see them. She loved her stepmother dearly, but it wasn’t the same. Her mother might have died when she was just a little girl, but she still had memories of her gentle hand on her brow and the way her rose scent hung about her. It would be a good thing to do, she decided, feeling virtuous. But until she discovered where his mother lived, she wouldn’t say.

‘You are right, my dear. It is no wonder that Richard decided to act so quickly. He knew a good thing when he saw it.’ Lord Hallington mopped his brow with a spotted handkerchief. His high colour had receded, but a sheen of sweat shone on his forehead. ‘What a blessing it is to have you in my family. I hope we can become good friends. I have longed for a daughter for … for a long time.’

‘I hope so as well.’ Sophie took a cautious sip of her tea while she glowed internally. She’d won Lord Hallington’s approval and her stepmother understood. Everything was going to be wonderful once Richard arrived. She put a hand to her throbbing head … if he arrived.

‘What is going on here?’ Richard asked from the doorway. Her heart did a crazy leap and she remembered how he’d kissed her so thoroughly last night. ‘Did no one think to invite me to the family party?’

Sophie gulped. Richard had arrived at precisely the wrong moment. ‘I was just explaining how we met.’

‘In Liverpool?’ His face seemed to be carved from stone, but his eyes flickered between her and his father.

Sophie stood up and linked her arm with his. ‘The true circumstances.’

The colour drained from Richard’s face. ‘Did you volunteer the information, Sophie?’

‘The nineteenth of March is your father’s birthday.’

‘I know when my father’s birthday is.’

‘The ship was launched on the nineteenth,’ Sophie explained evenly, willing him to understand the problem. ‘My stepmother noted it in her diary.’

‘But you said late March.’

‘In my world, the nineteenth is late March.’

Richard put a hand to his throbbing head. His quick visit to his mother and sister had turned into a disaster of epic proportions. His mother had flown into hysterics, making all sorts of wild accusations about his father and what he’d do to her and how Sophie was sure to be a she-devil. In the end, he had gone for the doctor, who sedated her with laudanum. Richard waited with a terrified Hannah until his mother slept and then had left for home.

All he had wanted to do was to sink deep inside Sophie and forget the trauma. He wanted to enjoy further awakening Sophie’s passionate nature and making her truly his own.

He had hopes that Sophie would have remained asleep while he was away, but she was nowhere to be seen and neither was there a note.
The rooms were devoid of life. The pit of his stomach roiled. Abandoned again. Always. It hurt that he cared when she cared so little.

Luckily Myers had returned from shopping for the ingredients for his black boot polish and volunteered the information that Sophie and her maid had gone to her stepmother’s to get more clothes. Richard had not stopped to change his neckcloth, but had hurried off.

Now, rather than collecting Sophie and departing with all speed, he had to cope with more trauma—his father and Sophie’s confession. There had been no need to check the date of the Liverpool launch before. It hadn’t been important.

‘I hadn’t realised the launch was on the nineteenth,’ he admitted as evenly as he could. ‘The nineteenth is my father’s birthday. I always spend that day with my father.’

‘So Lord Hallington informed my stepmother. They were in midst of an argument about it when I arrived.’ Sophie held out her hands. Her blue eyes were wide and pleading. ‘You can see why I had to tell them. My stepmother thinks it very romantic what you did. Apparently it is just like in one of her novels.’

He was suddenly glad that Sophie knew nothing about his mother or Hannah. She would have
been unable to resist telling his father and then all hell would have broken loose and Sophie would have been hurt, used as a pawn or worse. His parents were his burden, not Sophie’s. He had made her marry him. She had not asked for the craziness of his family.

He ran his hand through his hair and peered more closely at his father, searching for signs of his temper. One hysterical parent on the day after his wedding was enough, two were unthinkable. Against the odds, his father appeared happy with the situation, far happier than he’d seen his father in a long time.

‘You did admirably, my boy,’ his father said. ‘I can see why you decided to remain in the north, and why you married Sophie so quickly. You were always headstrong, but a good woman is hard to find.’

‘You approve?’

‘Yes, I approve!’ His father clapped his hands together. ‘I’m utterly impressed and astonished. Despite the unorthodox meeting and courtship, you managed to find the sort of woman I have always wanted for you. Your aunt as usual wrote a load of blathering nonsense. I should have guessed. No sense about pigs, none whatsoever about people!’

‘Then you won’t mind if I take my bride away
now?’ Richard put a hand on Sophie’s shoulder and felt her flesh quiver under his fingers. Today could be redeemed. ‘We did only marry yesterday.’

‘We entirely understand,’ Mrs Ravel said with a beatific smile. ‘I was surprised to see Sophie here. I would have thought you’d depart on your wedding trip today. Sophie’s father took me to Paris and then to Venice.’

‘When do you leave for your wedding trip, Richard?’ his father asked.

Richard froze. This was his chance to get his father to leave without causing a scene or alarming Sophie.

‘Richard and I have decided to postpone the wedding trip so that you will have time to get to know me,’ Sophie said before he had uttered a word.

His father’s eyes widened. ‘I had no wish …’

‘But we do.’ Sophie darted forwards and gave his father a kiss on the cheek. ‘It will mean so much to both Richard and me. You are part of my family now. And you travelled on a train for the first time. Trains can be rather overwhelming. The noise, the dirt and the steam.’

Tears came into his father’s eyes. ‘Bless you, child. I will look into taking rooms. There is much to admire about this city. I haven’t been
here since I was a young man. The pigs will have to do without me for a while. My new daughter requires me.’

Richard forced his jaw to relax. His father had never done that for him—put him ahead of the pigs. Sophie with her impulsive invitation had just closed the one bright hope in his life—that his father would leave Newcastle quickly. His father would now stay and his own problems had grown. Somehow he had to figure out how he was going to protect Sophie and keep her from being used as a pawn.

‘What do you think you were playing at, Sophie?’ Richard exploded the instant he shut their bedroom door. ‘Leaving like that! No note. Nothing.’

Sophie dropped her reticule on the ground. She had known something was wrong by his silence on the journey back and the way he’d marched into their bedroom. True, he’d been charming at her stepmother’s, but he had insisted they leave immediately after he’d finished his cup of tea, not even waiting for Jane and her dresses.

‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’ Sophie crossed her arms and readied for war. He’d been the one to be out when she awoke.

‘You failed to leave a note.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I had no idea where you were when I returned.’

Sophie tapped her foot on the ground. All the hurt and anger from earlier rose within her. He dared to complain about her absence when he couldn’t be bothered to be there when she woke! She was the one who should be angry, not he. He should be on his knees in abject apology, rather than demanding explanations. ‘You also failed to leave a note. I had no idea where
you
were. I refuse to wait around in rented rooms, hoping you might put in an appearance before nightfall.’

His mouth twisted. ‘You decided to serve me back?’

‘No, I let Myers know where I was and when I expected to return.’ Sophie stuck her chin in the air. ‘I needed my dresses which button down the front. I refuse to be stuck somewhere naked simply because all my clothing requires the assistance of a lady’s maid.’

She waited for him to accept the truth.

He glared at her. ‘Did you have to tell my father about how we met?’

‘I had little choice.’ Sophie met his gaze with a furious one of her own. ‘I could hardly lie to him. You saw how it was. Undone by a date. It had to come out sooner or later. The truth always
does. My stepmother took it very well and your father as well.’

‘Who else will learn of the truth?’

Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘I suspect I shall have to tell Robert and Henri. My stepmother is sure to tell them in any case. They and their children are like family.’

‘Shall I take a notice out in
The Times
?’ he enquired in a cutting voice. ‘It will save time.’

‘Once you meet Robert and Henri, you will love them.’

‘I prefer to make my own judgement about people. You swore only a few days ago that this Robert of yours would find fault with me and my suit.’

‘Yes, but we are married now.’ Sophie pressed her hands against her temples. She had only said that when she had been certain he had no desire to marry her. Everything had changed. ‘It no longer signifies. They know what society demands when people are compromised. Ultimately, all they want is to see me happy. They will be delighted that you did the right thing.’

He reached out to her, but she ignored it and stood there with crossed arms. She refused to ask him where he’d been. He should tell her and explain why he had left her for so long this morning.

‘This is all wrong.’ He reached out again and pulled her into his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘That’s better. You were too far away. Can we start today over, please? I missed you more than I thought I would.’

‘I would like that,’ she said. Being in his arms made everything better. He’d missed her or perhaps just her body. It had to be enough. She would make him proud of her accomplishments. She’d show him how truly worthy she was and he’d start to truly care for her. He might not love her now, but she could make love grow … if she had enough time.

‘I didn’t expect to see your father,’ she said, concentrating on his waistcoat rather than looking him in the face. ‘My dark-rose gown has easier buttons and requires no crinoline. Jane wants my wardrobe to be fit for a peeress, but I’d rather be able to dress myself. Surely both can be managed?’

‘I like your way of thinking, Lady Bingfield.’ Richard’s eyes glowed with appreciation as he ran his hands down her back.

They had that, Sophie realised. They desired each other. It would have to be enough to build her marriage on. She couldn’t suddenly wish for undying love when he had never pretended more than desire. She had to hope his feelings
for her would grow. Right now, his touch was wakening the ache in her middle.

She gave her mouth up to his mind-numbing kiss. When he kissed her, she knew everything would be right with the world.

Much later when they lay in bed together, Sophie’s head against Richard’s chest and her body faintly throbbing, she glanced up at his face and he seemed to be far away, concentrating on the bedpost rather than on her face.

‘You haven’t heard a word I said.’

He placed an absentminded kiss on her hair. ‘Was it important?’

She shook her head. Her question about his childhood could wait. ‘What were you thinking about?’

He put his hands behind his head. ‘My father took the truth about our meeting well though. Better than I had hoped. It was a simplistic, but fatal error. I never thought about his birthday.’

She ran her hand down his chest. ‘We had different expectations when we decided the story.’

‘I could tell he likes you.’ His hand stroked her hair. ‘He does have excellent taste if you can get him to talk about something more than pigs.’

‘You did want him to stay. He seemed sad earlier. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.’ Sophie
shook her head. Now was not the time to bring up the intelligence about his mother. Not after their quarrel had just mended. She had hated how her insides felt during their last one.

‘You were completely right. I was being selfish. I wanted to start our wedding trip as soon as possible and didn’t think my father would want to stay as he normally hates being away from his beloved pigs.’

‘He puts his son above his pigs.’

‘I live in hope, rather than expectation.’ He gave a pained smile. ‘Thank you for putting duty before pleasure. We will go once my father decides to depart, but it won’t be long before the pigs need his attention. I want a proper wedding trip with you this summer. I positively insist on it.’

‘We are still together and we will get to the Alps this summer.’ She placed a kiss on his chin. ‘I’m looking forward to painting you properly. A sunlit Alpine meadow will be the perfect backdrop.’

BOOK: An Ideal Husband?
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