‘Me, ma’am?’ Chivers closed the lid of the trunk and stared at Sophia. ‘Surely the ladies of your family and your friends …’
‘I have none. Not in London. And I have never been to town before; I have no idea where to go.’
The maid’s face showed a hint of pity and Sophia realised just how lonely she felt. Mama, her friends and acquaintances, were all miles away and here she was with no one to confide in and a husband who was virtually a stranger. Husband. Oh dear, I wish I had a married friend I could talk to.
‘My last lady was very fashionable, ma’am. I know the fashionable shops and the best modistes, never fear.’ Chivers was all practicality again as she bustled into the dressing room and began to tidy up in there. ‘Will you be having a lie down before dinner, ma’am? And then a bath before I dress your hair?’ The answer required was, she made clear, Yes.
Of course, Sophia realized; the maid knew it was her wedding night and was expecting her to be devoting the time before dinner to resting and then primping. Probably she should be in a flutter of romantic and maidenly excitement, not torn between unladylike desire, resentment, excitement and downright nerves. ‘Yes, Chivers,’ she said with every outward sign of confidence. ‘That is exactly what I shall be doing.’
Chapter Nine
The clock struck eight and Cal laid down the newspaper he had been reading. It was pointless; he was not absorbing a word of it. It was beginning to dawn on him that marriage was going to turn his life upside down. The shock of the shipwreck, the grief of losing Daniel, the strangeness of life in England after so long away, had been a huge upheaval. He had got through that, largely by sheer hard work and a refusal to wallow in self-pity. Dan had gone and with him boyhood dreams and illusions about love. He did not think himself a coward, but he knew with a deep certainty that he was never again going to lay himself open to the pain of loss such as he had just experienced.
He loved Will, his other brother. If anything happened to him, he would mourn and grieve deeply, but he would not lose a part of himself, part of his heart and soul, as he had with the death of his twin. It was good that he had married Sophia out of duty and not out of love because he did not think he could risk making himself so vulnerable ever again.
But marriage, even a marriage of convenience, was an intimate thing. For better or worse he was tied to Sophia now. He had been tied to Dan by love and affection and the mental link that others found so uncanny but which, for a twin, was perfectly normal. Now he must live with a woman with whom he did not share any kind of mental closeness.
The door opened and Sophia entered. For a moment he was still, so lost in his thoughts that he just stared at her. Then, as she came further into the room, he got to his feet with a murmur of apology and pleasure. His wife—he really must get used to that word—was glowing.
‘Sophia.’ He took her hand and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘You look lovely. And you like the roses, I think?’
‘Pink roses in my hair and corsage with a black gown is unconventional, I know,’ she murmured, but he could see he had pleased her. She was wearing a modest string of pearls at her throat and studs in her ears and pale pink long kid gloves, and the effect with the sheen of the black silk gown was surprisingly sophisticated and dashing. ‘It was a lovely surprise. I came out of the dressing room after my bath and there they were.’
Cal’s imagination seized on the image of Sophia, flushed pink from her bath, emerging into a room full of pink roses. ‘I find I can take pleasure in pleasing my bride, even if I was not very good at it as an engaged man,’ he admitted. She glanced up at him and blushed and he could tell she knew what he was thinking about. Not all of it, he hoped, not an innocent like Sophia. She could have absolutely no idea what he would like to do with her, to her.
Neither of them seemed to know what to say next. What did he converse about with a wife who had no idea about his life? They had nothing in common except Dan, and that was not something they could talk about; it would be too painful for her, he was sure. Should he risk boring her by talking about the Company? Or life in India?
As though she read his mind she asked, ‘Will you be attending the East India Company offices tomorrow?’ Sophia sat down in the exact middle of the chaise and spread her skirts elegantly around her. Was that deliberate to stop him sitting next to her? She had recovered her poise faster than he had, it seemed.
‘I am afraid so.’ Callum took the chair opposite.
‘Afraid? Is something wrong?’ She caught her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. ‘I am sorry, I do not mean to pry into your business.’
‘Not at all, you have every reason to ask. I can always tell you if something is confidential. No, I meant I was sorry I could not be with you.’
‘Oh, I will not need you—you know I must be shopping for clothes.’ Sophia laughed. ‘It would be worse than the things for the house; I am sure you would be bored to tears. Chivers knows just where to go. But I must ask you to tell me what my dress allowance will be before I catch a glimpse of all the temptations in the shops.’
Callu
m relaxed. She seemed happy at the prospect of shopping. He had feared sulks because he was leaving her alone, but this was excellent; the maid was obviously competent and shopping appeared to keep females occupied for hours on end. He was not going to have to dance attendance on her all day.
‘I had given that some thought and I have jotted down these figures,’ he said and reached into the breast of his coat for his notebook. He extracted a slip of paper and passed it to her. ‘That is what I thought for your dress allowance, your pin money and the housekeeping.’
Sophia stared at it. ‘For the year?’ she asked after a moment.
‘No, quarterly. The redecorations will be extra. I suggest you take notes of what you think would be suitable and we can discuss it. Sophia?’
She stared at him. ‘This is very generous. I had no wish to be such an expense to you. You paid off our debts.’
He shrugged. ‘Any wife would cost as much. I cannot expect to be married on a bachelor’s budget.’
‘No, of course,’ she agreed, once more the polite lady, all the animation she had shown at the prospect of a shopping expedition banished.
Once she had found her feet she would be an excellent hostess, he thought. Her natural grace, good breeding and restraint easily outweighed the sheltered country life she had lived. It was a pity that those flashes of vivacity were so few and far between.
‘Dinner is served, madam.’ Hawksley stood by the open door.
‘My dear.’ Cal rose, extended a hand and escorted his wife into the dining room to sit at the foot of the table. She seemed rather distant when he took his own place, but perhaps that was the length of the table, the exuberant display of flowers halfway down—he really must remember to thank the footman—and her reserve in front of the servants.