Meant To Be (Pendleton Manor 1)

He bit back some irritation of his own. “I used to know her. Her father was the estate manager at Pendleton years ago. I realise I shouldn’t have interrupted their dance, but I was concerned for her safety. I know what Digby is capable of.”

“This girl, she’s no longer any of your business, Harry,” she said, her voice rising in pitch. “Adam told me she was your friend when you were a child, but her father stole from you and … I can’t imagine why you’d want anything to do with her.”

Adam had spoken of that to her? Before he could ask what else Adam had said, she hurried on, her words tumbling over themselves in a way he had not heard from her since that day in the park.

“It was embarrassing. Mother saw you follow them into the alcove and she will tell my brother, and there will be questions asked. He will want to know why and I don’t think I can bear to be lectured to about your behaviou

r, Harry.”

He knew her brother was very protective but he could handle that. He had made a mistake, and it was time to rectify it.

Harry leaned forward and took her hands in his and she let him, but she wore that same anxious expression. If she was worried that something between them had changed then he would do his best to make it right.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It was impulsive.”

“You are never impulsive, Harry.”

That much was true. He always put a great deal of thought into his actions. His recent behaviour was completely out of character. He needed to marry Evelyn and move on with his life, and perhaps then he would be able to stop dreaming about Sophy.

Evelyn sighed and shook her head at him. “There you are, off in your own thoughts again. That is another thing that seems new. Harry, please, remember who you are and what we have promised each other. We will be married in six months and I am beginning to feel as if my future husband is a stranger.”

He felt shaken by her words but he raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “I’m sorry I upset you,” he reassured her. “You can be sure it will not happen again.”

She sat back. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said wearily and closed her eyes. “I would hate to think I was marrying the wrong man.”

He started. What did she mean by that? The wrong man? Was she thinking of James Abbott? He considered asking her why she had refused his proposal. Harry opened his mouth, only to close it again. Best to let some secrets sleep, he told himself. He could be respectful when it came to Evelyn’s privacy.

The truth was more calculated. He had little desire to delve into Evelyn’s past, and it wasn’t entirely because of his gentlemanly instincts. If he began asking questions of her, then she would ask questions of him, and at the moment Harry had no idea how he would answer.

Chapter 20

SOPHY

James called on her the following morning, and Sophy was grateful his brother wasn’t with him. After what had passed between them at the ball she didn’t want to speak with Digby again, at least not until she had discussed the situation with James.

Susan played the composed hostess, offering tea and cake, chatting about the weather. It was an act. Sophy could see the sparkle in her blue eyes, and knew she was beginning to hope that this was the man her granddaughter would settle down with. Marriage, a comfortable home and a gentleman who treated her with kindness, all the things that were at the top of her grandmother’s wish list.

But what of desire? What of passion? Her grandmother had already said such emotions were of secondary importance when it came to finding a husband. Sophy suspected that Susan had loved her grandfather deeply, and when he died she had been heartbroken. In desperation, she had turned to Sir Geoffrey and found a kind and compassionate man. What had developed between them was also love, but of a less turbulent nature.

Although her grandmother took her job as chaperone seriously, as a matchmaker, she knew when it was advantageous to leave her charge alone for a private moment. After making some excuse about needing to speak to the cook, she closed the door. Not knowing how long she would have to converse privately, Sophy hurried into the topic at the forefront of her mind.

“Your brother told me that you knew about Harry Baillieu and-and me. He told you, didn’t he? About that Christmas at Pendleton Manor?”

James took a breath and looked at the mantelpiece where Grandma kept her prized collection of porcelain shepherdesses. When he turned back to Sophy, his expression had become apologetic. “Digby did tell me. I’m sorry, I should have explained to you—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. “I understand why Digby would want to use his information to hurt Harry. They have never recovered from their falling out. But you? Why would you want to see me suffer?”

She could see the sadness in his blue eyes had returned. Sophy had noticed how James’s emotions tended toward the melancholy.

“It was wrong of me. That day in the park, when you saw Harry and Lady Evelyn riding together …Well, I had suspected there was something between you but that confirmed it. And then at the ball in St James’s Square, Digby said Harry still had feelings for you and he would prove it. I dared him to. What happened was my fault, and I apologise, Sophy.”

“But why?” she burst out. “I don’t understand.”

“It seems our lives are more intertwined than you might realise. You see, I was going to marry Lady Evelyn Rowe,” he said and shocked her to silence.

“But Harry is …” Sophy murmured, trying to gather her thoughts.

“This was before she became engaged to Harry Baillieu. She and I were in love. I loved her,” he repeated, and she heard the conviction in his voice.