were flat, without expression, like black stones dropped into a stagnant pool.
“Oh, my precious lamb! Do ye want to tell me about it?” Tessa’s voice was all concern.
“I should never have married him, Tessa. Never.”
Sophy pulled up short. She could have bitten off her tongue for letting that out. Where on earth was her mind wandering? Conscious of her own dissatisfaction, she had been so occupied with her chaotic reflections that she had not given a thought to her words.
“There, there, now.” Tessa shook her head in her inability to refute the vehement declaration. “What’s done is done.” She gently wrapped her arm around Sophy’s shoulders.
Sophy whirled. Thrust off Tessa’s comforting hand. Shook her head in denial. This attraction she felt for Seth made her feel out of control, and it wasn’t a feeling she was at all comfortable with.
“No, it’s not done. Seth Weston has a lot to learn about marriage. He made a bargain. Signed a contract. I am not a weak and pliable creature to be pushed to one side.”
There followed a long moment of silence in which Tessa watched Sophy jump off the bed and insert her feet into the mules beside the bed.
“Merciful heavens! Has he been unfaithful, then? When ye’ve only been married a few weeks!” Tessa’s words were faint, filled with disbelief, matching the surprise in her face.
Sophy flushed to the roots of her hair as a most unladylike certainty goaded her sharp reply, “Of course not! His mother was ill, but that does not mean I am to be left behind like some ornament on a shelf.”
Tessa’s robust face paled considerably, and her lips twitched briefly in a bleak smile. “Aye. ‘Tis right sorry I am, my wee bairn, to find ye so provoked. ’Tis thinking I am that wanting and marrying are two different things to a man.”
Sophy shrugged testily. She managed to curb her tongue and did not answer. There was no need, no reason to make that assumption seem trivial. After all, Seth had what he wanted from the marriage...her money.
What she had never anticipated was that her own emotions would betray her, challenge long-held convictions. But one thing was certain. She had not married to be subjected to the sweet kind of indulgence usually reserved for children or to be treated like some kind of parcel!
Tessa dared no further comments, for she sensed by the brusqueness of Sophy’s reactions that she wished to speak no more of the matter. Instead, she deliberately engaged in an inconsequential one-sided conversation about some phantom creatures invading the kitchen in the night.
As Tessa brushed and styled her hair, Sophy resolutely kept her eyes shut. That way, she could envisage Seth lying across her bed, lazy and content, relaxed in a magnificent sprawl, like a huge jungle cat, satiated with love. Somehow the vision shifted, changed. He was now a medieval knight, ready to defend her honor, her very life.
It was an illusion she could cling to, one she could hold dear. How one converted the image into reality was another matter, especially when love was not a factor in the equation that was her future.
Her father had always advised when in a situation requiring instant answers to trust her inner voices and good common sense. What would he have said to her present situation?
Sophy could almost hear his voice. Well, my girl, pride and arrogance have gotten you into a fine mess! You’re the one who set the limits to the relationship. You’re the one who’ll have to renegotiate. How she missed him!
Resolutely, she turned her mind to more prosaic matters. Like her new project. Her face brightened. Like finding a house in Greene Street.
Sophy drew her brows together in mild exasperation. The warm day had darkened rapidly as fleeting wisps of cloud gathered to form masses of gray slate across the sky, casting a pall over the sun. The wind moaned as it drove clouds into a tumbling, threatening horde above the comb of chimney tops.
The carriage
“Oh, my precious lamb! Do ye want to tell me about it?” Tessa’s voice was all concern.
“I should never have married him, Tessa. Never.”
Sophy pulled up short. She could have bitten off her tongue for letting that out. Where on earth was her mind wandering? Conscious of her own dissatisfaction, she had been so occupied with her chaotic reflections that she had not given a thought to her words.
“There, there, now.” Tessa shook her head in her inability to refute the vehement declaration. “What’s done is done.” She gently wrapped her arm around Sophy’s shoulders.
Sophy whirled. Thrust off Tessa’s comforting hand. Shook her head in denial. This attraction she felt for Seth made her feel out of control, and it wasn’t a feeling she was at all comfortable with.
“No, it’s not done. Seth Weston has a lot to learn about marriage. He made a bargain. Signed a contract. I am not a weak and pliable creature to be pushed to one side.”
There followed a long moment of silence in which Tessa watched Sophy jump off the bed and insert her feet into the mules beside the bed.
“Merciful heavens! Has he been unfaithful, then? When ye’ve only been married a few weeks!” Tessa’s words were faint, filled with disbelief, matching the surprise in her face.
Sophy flushed to the roots of her hair as a most unladylike certainty goaded her sharp reply, “Of course not! His mother was ill, but that does not mean I am to be left behind like some ornament on a shelf.”
Tessa’s robust face paled considerably, and her lips twitched briefly in a bleak smile. “Aye. ‘Tis right sorry I am, my wee bairn, to find ye so provoked. ’Tis thinking I am that wanting and marrying are two different things to a man.”
Sophy shrugged testily. She managed to curb her tongue and did not answer. There was no need, no reason to make that assumption seem trivial. After all, Seth had what he wanted from the marriage...her money.
What she had never anticipated was that her own emotions would betray her, challenge long-held convictions. But one thing was certain. She had not married to be subjected to the sweet kind of indulgence usually reserved for children or to be treated like some kind of parcel!
Tessa dared no further comments, for she sensed by the brusqueness of Sophy’s reactions that she wished to speak no more of the matter. Instead, she deliberately engaged in an inconsequential one-sided conversation about some phantom creatures invading the kitchen in the night.
As Tessa brushed and styled her hair, Sophy resolutely kept her eyes shut. That way, she could envisage Seth lying across her bed, lazy and content, relaxed in a magnificent sprawl, like a huge jungle cat, satiated with love. Somehow the vision shifted, changed. He was now a medieval knight, ready to defend her honor, her very life.
It was an illusion she could cling to, one she could hold dear. How one converted the image into reality was another matter, especially when love was not a factor in the equation that was her future.
Her father had always advised when in a situation requiring instant answers to trust her inner voices and good common sense. What would he have said to her present situation?
Sophy could almost hear his voice. Well, my girl, pride and arrogance have gotten you into a fine mess! You’re the one who set the limits to the relationship. You’re the one who’ll have to renegotiate. How she missed him!
Resolutely, she turned her mind to more prosaic matters. Like her new project. Her face brightened. Like finding a house in Greene Street.
Sophy drew her brows together in mild exasperation. The warm day had darkened rapidly as fleeting wisps of cloud gathered to form masses of gray slate across the sky, casting a pall over the sun. The wind moaned as it drove clouds into a tumbling, threatening horde above the comb of chimney tops.
The carriage
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