Page 44 of To Woo and to Wed
If either of them found her sudden change of topic odd, they did not say anything, turning to make their way to the counter. Sophie trailed after them, her thoughts churning.
Chapter Fifteen
“I do believe if herbodice was half an inch lower, I’d need to cover your eyes,” Penvale said to Jane.
Sophie glanced around, wondering to whom he was referring, but after only a split second she spotted the likely offender: a lady whose neckline was adventurous to the point of being gravitationally implausible. She bit her lip to prevent a smile.
“Why should you need to covermyeyes?” Jane asked her husband waspishly. “I believe, of the two of us,Iam the one possessed of the anatomy that would be on display. Perhaps it is your maidenly gaze thatIshould be protecting.”
“Maidenly?” Penvale objected. “If my memory serves—”
“I see Belfry’s attempts to civilize his theater have been only partially successful,” West said hastily, managing to head off whatever the inappropriate conclusion to Penvale’s sentence would have been, though this did nothing to dispel the heated gaze husband and wife were sharing. (Admittedly, some of that heat was born of irritation. But not all.)
“I don’t think he’s that interested in civilizing it,” Sophie said thoughtfully, allowing West to take her elbow and steer her past an earl who was weaving drunkenly on the arm of another gentleman;something about the proprietary way his companion gripped his arm made her think that this was not merely the act of a man ensuring that his foxed friend didn’t topple over. She had no time to contemplate this, however, because they had arrived at Belfry’s private box—the best in the theater, naturally—and were greeted by an assortment of their friends within.
“I see we’re the late arrivals,” Sophie said cheerfully, twining her arm more securely through West’s as she smiled around at the assembled couples. Alexandra, looking very pretty in a square-necked gown of champagne-colored satin, was standing close enough to Blackford that he must have a very fascinating view directly down her bodice—one that he was taking full advantage of, if his constantly dropping gaze was anything to judge by. They were deep in conversation with Violet and James, one that seemed to be hastily broken off as soon as Sophie and West entered the box. Also assembled were Diana and Jeremy, Emily and Belfry, and Harriet and her husband, George Lancashire.
“I thought Betsy was coming, too?” Sophie asked her sister, as Harriet came to press a quick kiss to her cheek.
“She was,” Harriet confirmed. “But evidently she’s feeling poorly today.” She grimaced. “Having a baby is not a remotely enjoyable process, you know.”
“Except for one bit,” Belfry drawled, approaching with Emily on his arm in time to hear this. His wife poked him in the side, blushing rosily. She was beginning to look a bit round herself, Sophie thought, though she knew that Emily still had a few months before she planned to enter her confinement.
“How is the wedding planning going?” Emily asked, still looking rather pink in the face; her husband evidently noticed this as well, ashis arm curved around her waist and he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head.
“It would be goingbetter,” Harriet interjected, before Sophie or West had the chance to utter a single word, “if Sophie would letmetake charge of matters.”
“I simply cannot fathom why I might be hesitant,” Sophie said dryly; Harriet’s wedding two years earlier had been nothing short of a spectacle.
“Neither can I,” Harriet said, conveniently deaf to Sophie’s sarcasm. “Especially with it being a double wedding, we need to settle on a date, send invitations—”
“Oh!” Emily clasped her hands. “A double wedding! How lovely!” Her face fell. “Oh, but I hope it’s not too late in the summer, otherwise I might not be able to attend.” Her hand gestured vaguely in the direction of her abdomen.
“Isn’t the baby due in October?” Sophie asked, frowning.
“Yes,” Emily said slowly, “but you never know! It might take it into its head to put in an early appearance and disrupt everything—I shouldn’t be surprised, considering who its father is,” she added, with a half-affectionate, half-exasperated glance at her husband, who looked unrepentant. His arm was still tight around her waist.
“Well,” Sophie said, “I’m certain that won’t be a problem—”
“Then you’ll have the wedding this summer?” Emily asked brightly, the appearance of a dejected mother-to-be that she’d worn a moment earlier suddenly mysteriously absent. “Sooner, rather than later?”
“I—well—” Sophie looked helplessly up at West, with whom she was still arm in arm. “I don’t think we’ve decided upon a firm date—”
“Well, naturally,” Harriet said reasonably. “You’d need to ask Alexandra and Blackford.” She turned. “Alex!” She waved her hand,beckoning, and Alexandra was at her side within seconds. “We were just discussing your wedding!” Harriet said eagerly. “It would be easier to properly plan if you were to set a date.”
Alexandra flicked a glance at Sophie, who attempted to communicate with her own gaze:Please stop this madness.
“How right you are,” Alexandra said smoothly, and Sophie reflected that perhaps she ought to brush up on her nonverbal communication. It clearly was not working as well as it once had. “We”—she cast a rapturous look over her shoulder at Blackford, who appeared momentarily blinded by it—“are, naturally, eager not to delay too long. Right, darling?”
“I’d procure a special license tomorrow, if you’d let me,” he confirmed, offering his betrothed an affectionate look.
“Which I won’t,” Alexandra agreed. “We must have a proper wedding! Shall I send a note to the rector at St. George’s tomorrow, inquiring about a date in… oh, I don’t know—early July?”
“Early July,” Sophie repeated, casting an increasingly desperate look up at West.He, at least, did not seem to have any difficulty deciphering it.
“That’s very… soon,” he offered.
“Precisely!” Alexandra beamed at him. “We don’t want to wait any longer than necessary to commence our happily-ever-afters, do we?”
