Page 33 of His Enemy Duchess

“The other servants did think it was a little strange, but… it might be good to have more company,” Penny said hopefully.

Sophia didn’t believe that the maid thought that was going to be true; she was just being nice, trying not to spook her mistress. It wasn’t that Sophia wanted to have a month alone with her husband. She just didn’t want to share space with more Pratts than she had to.

Although, I would be interested to discover what could happen in a month. What mighthave happened.

There was no chance of her and Thomas agreeing to any sort of truce now, with the rest of the enemy on the way.

“If I had known I was allowed to have visitors, I would have invitedmyfamily,” she muttered, feeling Penny’s dubious expression before she saw it.

Of course, that would never be possible. It would be pandemonium at best, and a bloodbath at worst.

“Yes, Penny, I heard how stupid that was as it came out of my mouth.” Sophia sighed, her heart beating out a violent rhythm of fear.

In a matter of days, she would be well and truly surrounded, forced to exchange pleasantries with at least one person who had tried to kill one of her kin.

CHAPTER 12

Sophia kept her head down, stealing sneaky glances around herself. The dining table was enormous, and everyone had a regular table’s worth of open space in front of them. Shehadswitched the table for the smaller one in the breakfast room during her redecoration spree, but it appeared that Thomas had switched it back.

It is the only change he made, at least.

And her work had not gone unnoticed.

“That painting is sublime, Thomas!” his mother, Harriet, declared. “I can’t stop looking at it. Wherever did you find it?”

Thomas dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “You would have to ask my wife.”

Sophia’s stomach lurched. Why was he drawing attention to her when she clearly wished to be left alone?

“Youchose it?” Harriet clapped her hands together, smiling with surprising warmth. “Why, you have such excellent taste. Please, do tell me where you found it. Do you know the artist’s name?”

Sophia stabbed a green bean. “It was… in the attic, Your Grace. There is an entire gallery up there.”

“Your Grace?” Harriet clicked her tongue. “Heavens, no. That will not do. You must call me Harriet. I insist on it.”

Sophia mustered what she hoped was a polite smile. “Yes, Harriet.”

“Didyouknow we had paintings in the attic?” Harriet spared her from further awkward conversation, turning to Thomas’s uncle Gregory.

“I confess, I did not,” he replied. “But I quite agree, it is very becoming in this room. It gives one something to observe and admire while dining, which is always of benefit in a quiet moment.”

William—the man who might have killed Samuel if he was a better shot—snorted. “Much chance of that in our household.”

He had a point. Sophia had expected the Pratts to be a quiet and serious lot, but that could not have been further from the truth. There had barely been a lull in conversation or good humor for the past two courses, the family possessing an easy comfort with one another, even with an interloper in their midst.

She stole a glance at Thomas. Ever since he had threatened punishment two days ago—and she had secretly willed him to do it—in the drawing room, they hadn’t exchanged more than a few words.

He had retreated into his study, and she had continued to redecorate the manor to her tastes, finding her own sliver of peace in Penny’s company. Anything to take her mind off her husband, and the traitorous daydreams of what other sensations he could make her feel. Anything to distract herself from wanting to find out.

For a moment there, she saw the fleeting semblance of a soul in him as he smiled at William’s joke. He almost seemed human. Handsome even. He almost…

No, remember, he is a Pratt—they all are.

She could not allow herself to feel safe.

“What are you expecting for the deal with the Summertons, Uncle? Are they actually interested, or is it a lost cause?” Thomas asked Gregory, amidst the light clinking of silverware and sounds of eating.

“I know Lord Sebastian well,” Gregory replied. “He is not one to take negotiations lightly. If we are at this juncture, then it means he is interested, and he has stock that needs to be dealt with but no desire to deal with it himself. We can use this to our advantage.”

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