“He knew that,” Sophy protested. “He said he would marry me anyway.”
“Marriage,” Grandma tapped a fingertip on her chin. “That may be the sticking point, my dear. A man like Harry and a girl like you, it is not unheard of but it is rather scandalous.” Then she smiled at Sir Geoffrey, as if the thought of scandal was a titillating subject.
“He promised,” Sophy tried not to let her voice tremble. “All our lives he has promised.” She would not allow herself to doubt Harry.
“Hmm. Well, promises can be stretched and reshaped, if necessary. The fact I have seen no mention of an engagement in the newspapers is a good sign. So far your Harry seems to be holding firm.”
“An engagement? To another woman?” Sophy blustered.
Her grandmother’s voice took on a brisk note. “And even if marriage between the two of you comes to nothing, you are a very pretty girl, Sophy. Pretty enough to turn heads. We shall see,” she added, and her eyes lost focus as if she was deep in her own thoughts.
Sophy said nothing. Whatever her grandmother’s plans were, if they did not include she and Harry together at Pendleton Manor, then she wanted no part of them. Despite what Grandma Susan might believe, Sophy was determined to retain her complete and total faith in Harry, at least outwardly.
And yet the sad fact was that she had stopped waiting for him to knock on her door. And as yet more time slipped by she began to wonder if there was some other reason he had not come. Some obstacle she knew nothing of, but that Harry was working hard to surmount so that they could be together. She refused to contemplate any of Grandma’s alternate plans, most of which included seeing Sophy wed to one of a number of other men. She was happy with her teaching work, and there seemed no reason to begin looking for a position as a governess or a companion, the two most likely prospects for a woman like her, with some education and yet sadly lacking in family connections or material wealth.
Despite the downturn her life had taken, she was surprisingly content, and if she missed Harry, then the sad truth was she would continue to miss him until her dying day. Sometimes a tremor of panic took hold of her, and with it the fear that Grandma and Sir Geoffrey were right and Harry had forgotten her. She did her best to lock such traitorous thoughts away. She told herself she must be staunch and true.
Being staunch and true was all very well when one could see a happy ending in sight. Sophy was beginning to wonder if her grand love affair was now behind her.
Chapter 11
SOPHY
1812, Hyde Park, London
It was Adam!
She recognised him in an instant, despite the fact he had grown taller and his shoulders were now much broader. His dark hair was longer, so that he kept pushing it back out of his hazel eyes and he wore a lush moustache. Three years had turned the good-looking boy she remembered into a handsome man.
Adam was in regimental uniform, loitering in Hyde Park, looking so devastating that all the women turned to stare at him. Of course they did, Sophy told herself, heart thumping as she drew near, excited laughter bubbling inside her. Adam had been receiving such attention all his life.
Grandma’s maid hurried along behind her as Sophy made her way across the grass to the group of soldiers. By the time she reached Adam she was smiling so broadly she could feel her cheeks stretching.
He turned to her with a puzzled look. Then she saw recognition flare in his eyes, and his initial surprise turned into something far more welcoming.
“Sophy?” he said, bowing enthusiastically over her outstretched hand. “Sophy Harcourt? What on earth are you doing here?”
Relief filled her. She realised she had been holding her breath in case he turned his back on her. Instead he seemed very pleased to see her, and if Adam was willing to acknowledge her, then surely so was Harry.
As if he’d just remembered what had happened three years ago, Adam leaned in closer, his voice sympathetic. “How is your father?”
Moisture welled in her eyes but she held back her tears. “He died in prison. Now I live with my grandmother in Lambeth.”
“Lambeth?” he echoed. She could see him swallowing his shock, staring at her as if he was having trouble taking in her words.
“Yes. My grandmother sent me on an errand to a little shop near here that sells buttons. They were closed so I thought I would walk through the park. And then I saw you.”
“How very fortuitous,” he said, but Sophy could see that her previous words were still resonating with him. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted at last, shaking his head. “I didn’t know about Mr Harcourt dying in prison. Father refused to discuss the matter with us. Harry asked repeatedly but it was no use, and after a while … I don’t know what happened, to be honest, but he just stopped asking. He tried to find you though, Sophy. You have to believe that.”
He didn’t try hard enough.
But there was something in his face that was begging her to understand, and despite the maelstrom inside her, and the rising doubts, she forced her mouth into the semblance of a smile. This was Adam, her childhood friend, and it was good to see him.
“Is your brother at home in Oxfordshire?” she asked shyly, noticing the other soldiers were now very interested in their conversation. To Sophy, Pendleton Manor was still and always would be ‘home’.
“Yes, but Harry will be in London next week,” Adam said and then looked away. His expression was wary now, as if he regretted the confidence he had just shared. “He’s, eh, well, he’s going to be here for the ball.”
“The ball?”