Married to a Stranger (Danger and Desire 3)

‘That was my intention. You could say, yes,’ he suggested.

‘Yes. Yes, I will marry you.’ Surrendering to the inevitable was an odd sensation. A sort of dizzy relief mixed with fear.

‘Excellent.’ Callum bent his head. She held her breath, closed her eyes. He kissed her, lightly, on her cheek.

Sophia gave a strangled gasp of disappointment, relief, surprise, but his hands still held her upper arms. She opened her eyes to find his face already far enough away for her to read the cynical amusement in his eyes. He knows I want him to kiss me properly. How humiliating.

‘Later, Sophia,’ Callum murmured.

‘You know how to tease, do you not?’ she asked, almost tempted into smiling at his effrontery. There was a noise behind her, some kind of disturbance, but Callum continued to hold her. ‘Sometimes it makes the conclusion sweeter,’ he murmured.

‘Sophia Grace Miranda Langley!’

‘Mama.’ It sank in that she was standing—or perhaps sagging—in a man’s arms in the middle of the public highway, her skirts mired, her hat gone and her hair a tumbled mess.

‘Thank heavens! Oh, how wonderful!’

‘Mama?’

‘Come inside, both of you, before someone comes along.’ Mrs Langley flapped her hands as though rounding up chickens.

Callum stooped to hand her the bedraggled villager hat, tossed his horse’s reins over the gatepost, replaced his own hat—which, of course, he had safely in his hand—on his head and opened the gate for her. Elegant, controlled, serious. If he so much as let his lips twitch she would … No, he would not make such a tactical mistake. No giving way to smug triumph or foolish passion for him.

‘Thank you, Mr Chatterton,’ Sophia said with as much frigid politeness as she could manage.

‘My pleasure, Miss Langley.’

‘I fell in the lane, Mama. I will go and change.’ She whisked upstairs, leaving her suitor to break the news to her mother. With any luck Mama would be over the worst of her transports of joy by the time Sophia rejoined them in the parlour.

‘Here you are at last.’ Her mother beamed at her when she finally came down, some composure restored along with a fresh gown and tidy hair. ‘Well! There are many details to arrange, but I am sure we can work everything out over the next month or so.’

‘I intend us to marry in two weeks’ time,’ Callum said, perfectly polite, perfectly implacable.

‘But that is no time at all!’ Sophia gasped.

‘I would have thought you had already waited long enough,’ he said with a lift of one eyebrow. He swept on without waiting for her reply. ‘I will go to London tomorrow, deal with various pressing Company matters and make sure the house is readied for your arrival. I will speak to the butler and have him find a maid for you. I must do some shopping. Then I shall return to the Hall for the wedding.’

Was there no hesitation, not even for a second? Sophia wondered, watching the hooded eyes, the long fingers lying apparently at rest. This is your marriage you are talking about, she wanted to say to him. Our future. How can you be so calm?

But Callum swept on. ‘The wedding will be by common licence and, under the circumstances, very quiet. Six months has passed, Sophia is in half-mourning, there should be no adverse comment, but I would not wish to attract gossip. I trust two weeks will be sufficient time for your cousin to join you, Mrs Langley? Sophia said that was the plan for a companion.’

/> ‘Yes. Dear Lettice can come at any time; she will be delighted, I know. But Sophia’s bride clothes—’

‘She may shop all she likes in London,’ Callum said. He did not shrug, Sophia thought, but he might just as well have done.

‘So romantic,’ she muttered and saw by the lift of an eyebrow that he had heard her. She raised her voice. ‘And if I do not like the house you have in London, or the servants?’ Of all the arrogant, cold, practical men! ‘I thought we were going to live at Long Welling. I like Long Welling,’ she added rather desperately. Her friends were close, St Albans was a familiar and friendly little town that she knew her way around. How was she going to cope, all alone in London with just a virtual stranger of a husband for company?

‘My business requires me to be in London for the present,’ Callum said in a tone of finality. ‘It will take time for Long Welling to be got into a state to be our country home. If you dislike the London house, we will move to another. If the staff fail to please you, you may dismiss them.’

But we cannot dismiss each other, she thought. Yet would it have been any better with Daniel? He would have been almost as much a stranger as Callum and there would have been the disillusion of acknowledging that their love had evaporated with time and distance. Here, at least, there were no illusions to begin with.

‘You will not object if I do that?’ she asked, curious at this willingness to accommodate her. Obviously his emotions were not at all engaged with any of this, not even the house he had been living in for six months.

‘The home will be your concern.’

Well, that was plain enough. It sounded lonely, though. Oh, pull yourself together, Sophia, she scolded. There will be balls and parties when the Season starts and exhibitions and libraries before then—the whole of London to explore. You will make friends soon enough. She was shaken by yesterday’s experience and today’s fall and her resilience was low, worn down by months of worry, that was all it was.

‘It all sounds wonderful,’ she said with a polite smile. Callum stared back at her, his gaze steady and unreadable under level brows. He made her a slight bow. Acknowledgment of her compliance? A genuine desire to marry her—or just a cynical satisfaction at getting his own way?