The butler dumped the packages unceremoniously on the hall table, flung the door wide and announced, ‘Mrs Chatterton, my lady,’ with an air of desperation, presumably in the hope of forestalling any further faux pas.
Sophia walked in, her mouth dry and her stomach in knots. Averil stared at her from the chaise, her face a picture of embarrassment and alarm as the other woman in the room, an elegant creature with dark hair and wide green eyes, sprang to her feet.
‘Oh, my dreadful tongue! You must be Callum’s wife,’ she said and came forwards with impetuous confidence, both hands held out. ‘I am Perdita Lyndon and I do apologise—I had no right to leap to conclusions. Averil is quite correct, of course Callum would have left you no choice in the matter. The man is an unmovable object when he decides upon something.’
‘Lady Iwerne.’ Sophia took her hand and managed a stiff little nod. Despite the frank apology she felt quite sick. She knew who the outspoken lady was. She had heard her name several times—another of Averil and Callum’s friends from the Bengal Queen. She had survived the wreck and, so Averil had told them, was now married to her rescuer, the Marquess of Iwerne. And not, it seemed, moved to like her, or trust her motives, however open her apology had been. She swallowed the lump in her throat and turned to Averil. ‘I am sorry, Lady d’Aunay, I have called at an inconvenient time.’
‘No, of course you have not! I so wanted you to meet Dita,’ Averil said remorsefully. ‘Oh dear, and now I have become Lady d’Aunay to you, just when I thought I had made a new friend. Please, Sophia, come and sit down by me and let Dita retrieve matters. Benson!’ The butler reappeared. ‘Bring tea and the very nicest biscuits.’
Sophia sat, her stomach still in a miserable knot.
‘I am tactless and outspoken but, please believe me, I am not usually given to attacking people I do not know behind their backs,’ Lady Iwerne said, sitting down again in a swirl of expensively tailored skirts. ‘My only excuse can be that I feel defensive for both Daniel and Callum because of what happened—and that is most unfair to you. I cannot imagine what it must have been like to lose your betrothed. It was so brave to marry Callum.’
Sophia knew she could nod, dab at a tear, accept all the sympathy and they would believe her. But it would be a lie and she could not accept credit for courage from Callum’s friends. ‘It was very much to my own benefit,’ she said stiffly. ‘Callum could have married anyone and I would have been left a spinster.’
‘But he felt it was his responsibility to look after you,’ Averil said, leaning across to squeeze Sophia’s hand.
The ready sympathy dissolved the miserable knot inside, made her want to explain. ‘Yes, he did. And I said no, of course. But he would not listen and Mama wanted it, and my brother is training for Holy Orders and it would have made such a difference … I still said no, even though I was tempted, so tempted. I want children, a family. But I wasn’t sure it was right and then he … we—’ She broke off, blushing.
‘He made you want him? Callum’s tactical skills are just what one would expect,’ Lady Iwerne said with a wry smile as the butler brought in the tea tray. ‘How very clever of him,’ she added as the door closed again and Averil began to pour. ‘He is most attractive,’ she added slyly.
‘And now, here I am, indeed, Lady Iwerne,’ Sophia said, trying to pretend she had not heard that last remark. ‘I only hope I can make Callum a good wife.’
‘Call me Dita, please. We will be friends, I know it.’ And looking into her intelligent, vivid face, Sophia believed it. Dita smiled. ‘I, being far less dutiful than you, can only hope Callum will make you happy. You are very modest, but it is not as though he gains nothing from this marriage—an attractive, intelligent wife, support at home as he starts his career in England, someone who knows and understands his family. Do you love him?’
‘Yes—oh!’ With a hand that shook, Sophia took the tea cup Averil was offering. ‘I did not mean to say that. He doesn’t know how I feel.’
‘And it is such a difficult thing to say, isn’t it? Only three words, but when one has no idea what the reply will be, they just seem to freeze on your lips,’ Averil said with a smile. ‘And men are even worse than we are—sometimes it takes them a while to understand how they feel.’
Dita rolled her eyes. ‘Quite. Well, you have us now. How can we help? Let me think. Is everything all right in the bedroom? Does he need seducing?’
Averil gave a snort of laughter. ‘No!’ Sophia knew she had gone crimson. ‘Everything is just wond—I mean, that is not the problem.’ As she recovered her composure she realised that Dita’s assured manner of speaking of such things probably meant that she and the marquess had been lovers, just as Averil and Luc had been before their marriage. It was shocking, but it was also reassuring to know that feeling about lovemaking as she did was not something unusual or wicked. She had wished for married friends her own age to confide in, and here they were.
‘Callum is very cool,’ she added with some haste. Dita’s exquisitely groomed eyebrows rose. ‘I mean, out of the bedchamber. Very pleasant, very kind and amiable. Sometimes it is like living with a man who is on the other side of a sheet of glass. Sometimes I think that making … er … the bedroom, is the only thing that really warms him.’
‘He was always the controlled one, the ambitious, hard-working twin,’ Averil said, frowning. ‘But I would never have called him cool or distant. He was witty and a good friend.’
Dita nodded in agreement. ‘I’ve seen him in fits of laughter and engaging with other people’s enjoyments.’
‘He still misses Daniel dreadfully, I think. It has hurt him very much to lose him,’ Sophia said. ‘They were in each other’s heads, somehow. I can remember that. It must be like losing part of yourself. I don’t
know how to fill that void for him, or even if I should try. I had fallen out of love with Daniel, you see. Callum knows that. I felt, I still feel, so guilty about it—but how could I feel the same? We had grown up. I was different, he must have been too.’
The words seemed to spill from her mouth and the relief at saying it, at being honest with friends, and not just with Callum, was intense. The other women were silent as her impulsive words died away into silence. Were they shocked? Disgusted? She braced herself for their reaction.
‘I can quite see that. Ten years apart—of course you had changed,’ Dita stated. There was a sympathetic silence, then she added, ‘Well, at least you are out of mourning, by the look of things. That will help both of you.’
‘We have begun to go out in society now. In fact, we are having our first dinner party tonight.’ A thought struck her. ‘I know it is dreadfully short notice, but would you—?’
‘Come to dinner? We would love to—I was hoping you would ask. Now I know I am forgiven. We must have another cup of tea, and then we will catch up on all the news.’
Chapter Seventeen
Sophia returned home at seven in the evening fizzing with excitement. She swept through the front door just as Callum came down the stairs, suavely elegant in evening dress, his golden skin and dark hair the perfect foil for white linen and deep blue cloth. ‘My dear, I was about to send out a search party.’
‘Oh, Callum, I am late, I am so sorry—and after I was so cross when you were late the other day, too! Did you have a good day at the docks?’
‘Thank you, yes.’ He eyed her portfolio and the brown paper parcel. ‘You have been shopping at this time in the evening?’