‘There is something I wanted to show Will that I forgot when you bundled me out of the house after luncheon. It can wait, we’ll discuss it when we are recovering after the guests go home.’ Callum ran up the stairs two at a time as though he could not wait to be at her side and she indulged that romantic little fantasy for a moment.
‘So it was my fault?’ she enquired archly as he arrived at her side. Oh, but he looked handsome and just a trifle tousled with one lock of hair falling over his forehead. She put up her hand to push it back and he caught it and brought her fingertips to his cheek.
‘Of course it is your fault,’ Callum said, his voice husky. ‘You befuddle my brain, my love. Turn around.’
Obedient, Sophia turned. No doubt a hairpin had come loose. She was almost used to Callum calling her his love. It was nonsense to attach any significance to it, it was simply a term of endearment. ‘What are you doing?’ He was removing her pearl earrings, her necklace. ‘Callum!’ Then something cold touched her neck and he turned her to face the mirrored wall beside the door and she saw the necklace, the heart reflecting blue fire as it lay cushioned on her breast. ‘Oh!’
‘Stand still, these are tricky.’ With more delicacy than she could have expected he threaded the earrings into her ears. ‘There.’ He delved into his pocket. ‘And the bracelets.’ Callum turned her around again.
His hands slipped down from fastening the bracelets and caught her fingers in his, his head still bent. She looked down at the thick dark hair, the vulnerable nape of his neck, the broad shoulders and wanted to cry, and to kiss him and to shout to the whole house that she loved him. Instead she said, her voice shaking a little. ‘They are so beautiful. Callum, thank you.’
He looked up and she thought she would drown in his gaze, deep and green and intense. ‘No more beautiful than your eyes,’ he murmured. ‘Sophia, I—’
‘Lord, here’s the first coach.’ Will appeared on the landing beside them. ‘Most unfashionably early—they must have heard the lobster patties wouldn’t go round.’
‘Will!’ Lady Julia Gray joined him, shaking her head at his levity. ‘We had better … Oh my goodness, Sophia, what wonderful sapphires!’
‘Callum has just given them to me,’ she explained with pride as Will took his brother’s arm and started organising them into a receiving line.
‘You here, Sophia here. Me here. Julia next to me. Walker, tell the musicians to start playing. Right, Mrs Chatterton, your first reception is about to begin. Good luck—you look ravishing.’
‘Thank you, Will.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you for everything.’ For being so kind all these years, for accepting me, for being there for Callum.
And then the front door opened and people began to come in and Sophia was swept up in the need to smile and shake hands and pretend that she remembered everyone. She even managed to smile when Mrs Hickson stopped dead, stared at the sapphires and exclaimed, ‘Well! Those sapphires!’
‘Yes,’ she said with a sweet smile. ‘Are they not the loveliest thing? My husband spoils me.’ She looked up and he smiled a smile that curled her toes in her silver-kid slippers. What had he been going to say when Will interrupted them?
‘Humph,’ said Mrs Hickson and moved on to shake hands with the earl.
By the time the line of guests had become a trickle Sophia knew that she was presiding over a considerable success. It might be out of Season, but there were enough fashionable people in London who were eager for entertainment to create a mo
st respectable crush. The reopening of the Flamborough town house was a draw, of course, and so was the appearance of Lady Julia as Will’s betrothed. Will had craftily left the great doors at the far end of the ballroom closed to create a slightly smaller space and the card tables had been set up in the room thus created.
The string-and-woodwind band created a perfect tuneful background to the babble of voices, Callum had not stinted on the wine and it was easy to avoid the ladies that Sophia thought of as the Spiteful Starlings. She was, she realised, floating on a happy cloud and it was not the one glass of champagne that she had drunk that was creating that feeling.
Callum had given her a parure of the most beautiful jewels. They were lovely gems, but, most important to her, he had chosen them carefully for this evening. He had looked at her as though he … as though … She could not bring herself to think the words, but she could hope.
Will’s servants were experienced and the footmen circulated smoothly with the wine and in the card room. When Sophia peeped into the ladies’ retiring room the maids were calmly dealing with torn hems and a fainting fit. The butler assured her gravely that all was in hand in the supper room. Feeling alarmingly matronly Sophia circulated, steering shy wallflowers into conversations, listening to the latest on dit that she hardly understood from gossiping dowagers and nudging gauche youths towards the young ladies who were inclined to giggle at them.
Sophia stopped to fix a foliage spray in a flower arrangement and catch her breath. Hands caught her around the waist and pulled her back against a warm, hard body.
‘Mrs Chatterton,’ Callum breathed in her ear. ‘Your reception is a great success. Allow me a congratulatory kiss.’
‘Mr Chatterton …’ His mouth was warm and possessive and quite indecently demanding, considering that they were screened only by a large flower display and a pillar. When he raised his head Sophia saw the same sensual delight in his eyes as she knew was in her own. ‘Callum, thank you so much.’
‘For the sapphires? It is my pleasure.’
‘For them, of course. They are beautiful and it is such a thoughtful gift. But for everything. For marrying me. I was so grudging, so awkward when you asked me. I hope I can make you as happy as you have made me.’
‘You have made me very happy.’ Callum took her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘I hope we can make each other happier yet.’
What did he mean? Children? Or whatever he had been about to say when Will interrupted? Her conscience gave a little jab. Tomorrow she must confess about Ackermann’s. But he admired her drawing, had said himself she should be published. Callum would be proud.
‘So do I,’ she said. He released her hand and she looked around. ‘We must go and mingle, it will be supper soon.’
The supper room was set out with small tables for two and four and six. ‘Let’s go and sit with Will and Julia,’ Callum said. ‘I think my capacity for mindless chatter has expired, at least until I have had something to eat.’
They wove through the seats and tables, smiling and nodding. Sophia even managed a gracious smile for Lady Piercebridge sitting with her husband and Mr and Mrs Hickson close to Will’s table, which was in the far corner.