Married to a Stranger (Danger and Desire 3)

‘Come and enjoy your triumph,’ Will said, pouring champagne. ‘I’ve told the footman to bring a platter of assorted savouries. This is going very well. Do you know, I even saw Lord Eagleton in positively amiable conversation with Great-Uncle Sylvester and I’d have sworn they haven’t spoken in ten years. Yes, Paul, what is it?’

Sophia glanced up to find a footman standing holding a parcel.

‘I am very sorry, my lord. Sanderson on the door says Mr Chatterton went out in a hurry to get this just before the guests arrived and it quite slipped his mind. He overheard Mr Chatterton saying it was for your lordship. I thought I had best bring it straight up in case it was needed.’

‘What the devil is it?’ the earl asked.

Callum said, ‘No, no, not for now, for later. Take it—’

But the footman, his attention on his master, not on Callum, unfurled the wrapping paper and placed two portfolios on the table.

Sophia gasped. Not only the portfolio she had given to Callum to look at, full of harmless drawings of flowers and scenes from the park, but the old one, with Ackermann’s card and receipt for her work and the caricatures and the other sketches she had pushed in there and hidden under her sofa.

‘I was going to show you these later, Will. They are Sophia’s and I remembered that printer who did such a good job of Grandmama’s watercolours for a private family edition.’ He glanced at her as she sat frozen, staring at the battered old black folder. ‘I found the green one on the side and then I hit this with my foot—it must have slid under the sofa, which does not say much for the frequency with which the carpets are brushed.’

‘But I—’ Suddenly galvanized, she reached for the incriminating folder, her hand hitting Will’s as he, too, leaned across for it. A full glass of wine tilted, Lady Julia made a grab for it and knocked the folder with her elbow. It slid to the floor, the tattered front cover fell off and the papers inside fanned out in a great drift.

In the centre rested the large nude study of Callum, asleep, as exposed as his body had been in reality. Lady Julia gave a small gasp and stared. The ladies at the Hicksons’ table were transfixed. A small flurry of caricature prints landed at the feet of Mrs Hickson and she picked them up, her eyes still on Callum’s explicitly naked body. A pen-and-ink study fluttered on to the table before her and she glanced at it, then stared and gave a squawk of outrage. ‘Maud, look! It is us! As starlings!’

Lady Piercebridge looked from the paper she was holding directly at Sophia. ‘This is a receipt! Mrs Chatterton is selling drawings to Ackermann. The wicked creature is selling libellous caricatures of us!’

The disturbance in their corner was attracting notice from all around the room. Callum fell to his knees, swept the tumbled papers together and hissed at Will, ‘Get them out of here, for heaven’s sake!’

Will was on his feet. ‘Cousin Georgia, Lady Piercebridge, do come through to my study, I am sure there is nothing to be concerned about.’ He shot a look at Lady Julia who, with admirable composure, moved to the nearest occupied table and sat down.

‘Oh dear, what a to-do! A foolish practical joke by one of Flamborough’s younger cousins that has completely misfired. Such a naughty drawing! I declare I will be blushing until tomorrow.’ There was laughter and Sophia realised that no one else, except the footman who was looking scandalised, had actually seen what had come out of the folder.

Callum stood up. ‘Come with me,’ he hissed and followed Will, his arms full of portfolios and papers. As soon as they were out into the corridor he demanded, ‘What have you done? The truth.’

‘I sold some perfectly innocent drawings to Mr Ackermann for a memorandum book, to be used anonymously,’ Sophia said. Her voice teetered on the edge of hysteria and she wrapped her arms around her body, hanging on while she fought for composure. ‘I bought the prints and I copied the style, because those old cats said such horrible things about me, but I swear I haven’t sold anything to anyone, only those little sketches to Ackermann. I was going to tell you tomorrow.’

Callum’s eyes were dark with anger, his face as rigidly controlled as she had ever seen it. ‘Have you any idea how serious this is? It may be the ruin of you. Why the hell couldn’t you tell me what you were going to do? Do you trust me so little?’

Despite his anger and her own distress, Sophia could read the hurt in his eyes, the betrayal. She had not simply failed to trust him with a secret, she had struck at his honour and his career by her actions. ‘Callum, I am—’

‘They will say that you are a professional,’ he swept on, ignoring her words and her outstretched hand. ‘They will say that I knew about what you were doing—I can hardly deny it, can I, not with my body on display for the entire world to see? And to add to the general humiliation, the word will go around that I need my

wife’s earnings as an artist to support us. You had better get out there and circulate as though nothing has happened. Can you do that?’

It could ruin him, too, she knew that even if he did not say it. A wife who was disgraced, exposed as a professional artist with the suspicion that she was selling scandalous prints, would be more than a liability to a man with his feet on the precarious ladder of success. The Company demanded high standards and good judgement. What did it say about Callum’s judgement that he had married her, allowed her such scandalous freedom?

‘Yes. Of course. I can manage. Callum, I am so sorry.’

‘It is a little late for that,’ he said grimly and strode off down the corridor.

She could not faint now, or weep. The only way she could help Callum was to put on a mask and follow Lady Julia’s lead. Sophia took a deep, shuddering breath, fixed a smile on her lips and opened the door.

Dita, Alistair, Averil and Luc were sitting at Will’s table laughing. As soon as they saw her they gestured for her to join them and Alistair fetched a chair.

‘Sophia, dear! Such a lovely evening,’ Dita said, then dropped her voice. ‘What on earth is wrong? We caught some of it—we were sitting just behind Mrs Hickson.’

‘And I’ve got my foot on a sketch of some kind.’ Luc bent down and picked up a rectangle of paper covered in pencil studies. A man’s hand, a bare foot, his torso and—Luc slapped his large hand over it as Dita said, with some interest, ‘Is that Callum? My goodness.’

‘Yes, it is. Thank you.’ Luc folded the paper and slid it across to Sophia. She stuffed it into her reticule. ‘I sold some little sketches to Ackermann’s for a memorandum book, just innocent flower and landscape studies. But Callum didn’t know what I had done and he brought my portfolio to show Will without telling me and he picked up the one I thought I had hidden and that idiot of a footman brought it to Will and it got dropped and …’

‘And now the fat really is in the fire,’ Dita said. ‘How can we help? Will’s Lady Julia is doing an excellent job of spreading a story about a practical joke by the young men and naughty sketches, so we’ll support that. Do you want to go home? We’ll take you.’

‘No.’ Sophia shook her head. ‘I am the hostess, I have to be seen or it will cause more talk. I do not know how Callum can stop those dreadful women spreading the truth—and what they believe I have done, which is even worse—but for now I must just pretend nothing is amiss.’