Page 32 of A Dreamy Match Made in Heaven
And once more, it took every ounce of self-control for Sophia to not run back.
Chapter 13
A small crowd was milling about the hallway, with people wandering around and enjoying the air outside the ballroom.
Sophia was awash with anxiety. Surrounded as she was by so many people, she felt utterly beside herself as her heart began to pound more rapidly. As if it knew something that she did not, it sped away from her.
It was just nerves, she tried to remember. Sophia knew that she was likely anxious merely because she was soon to meet the man that Miss Wainwright had chosen for her, but there was a sense of doom in the air. There was a fear that she could not quite place.
Sophia tried to breathe through it. She tried to imagine that these steps she took were not a plank towards her imminent demise, but rather a path through a meadow into a future that would bring delight and joy and all manner of happiness.
“I cannot express to you my excitement that you shall meet him. You know, he came to me shortly after your appointment and I knew right away that he was the man for you. Once I had him answering questions, oh dear, was I delighted!” the Matchmaker exclaimed with glee.
Sophia swallowed her fear and nodded, still trying to focus on her breathing and controlling the racing of her heart. It pounded far more quickly than the tempo at which the music was playing.
“Pardon me,” she apologised, pushing past a small group huddled in the hallway.
“Do keep up, we haven’t got all evening and I wish for you to have time for a dance or two,” Miss Wainwright urged.
“Yes, I am coming,” Sophia replied.
It was just then, as she made that pronouncement, that Miss Wainwright turned a corner into another hallway to what seemed to be a maze within the estate.
Sophia followed behind and, for a moment, she was blocked by the back of the Matchmaker. But just as suddenly Miss Wainwright moved, revealing the face of a man that Sophia knew well.
The light hair was pulled back away from his face, the sort that an Officer might have in order to prevent it from interfering with his view. The jaw had sharpened, more of a man’s than a boy’s jaw. But the eyes. The eyes were the same, save for the gentle hint of lines that were yet to fully form at the creases of them.
He was older now. And in every way, he was even more handsome than he had been two years, six years, twelve years ago. In all the time that they had known one another, he had only grown to be more beautiful in her sight.
And yet, despite the minor changes in his appearance, Thomas was exactly the same man as the boy who had stolen her heart more than a decade prior.
Sophia had the sudden realisation that she had been staring at him with her lips ever so slightly parted. She felt that she must look entirely foolish, taking him in that way. And yet his expression mirrored hers.
Thomas was evidently equally shocked to see her standing there. It was rather clear that he could hardly bear the surprise of it himself in the way that he suddenly glanced at Miss Wainwright, as if desperate for some sort of an explanation for this.
But the Matchmaker had a wide smile as she grinned at the two of them, waiting for someone to say something.
“Oh, good heavens, are the two of you not going to speak to one another? Well, I had best make introductions, I suppose, rather than allowing you to look dumbly at each other as if you were mere cretins,” she laughed.
“Mr. Gregory, this is Miss Hastings. She is the daughter of Lord and Lady Silsby. A clever and fine young woman, by every account. And Miss Hastings, Mr. Gregory is an Officer in the military. Or at least, he has been. He is now seeking to settle in London and work in his family’s business, which has seen a great deal of success,” Miss Wainwright informed each of them.
Sophia still had no idea what she ought to say, or if it was right for her to correct Miss Wainwright by telling her that this was a match that had already been made once before and had failed tragically. Would the woman even understand?
“Y-yes. Thank you, Miss Wainwright. I believe that Lady Hastings and I shall have plenty to discuss and get to know one another from here,” Thomas said, to Sophia’s relief. She was thankful at not having to try and think of anything that she might say or attempt to explain.
“Splendid! Then I shall return to the ballroom. I have quite a few others who need to be matched and, as you know, I do not like leaving anyone without,” she replied, taking her leave of them rather unceremoniously.
“Sophia,” he sighed, as if it was a relief just to say her name.
She felt her heart turn at the sound of her name upon Thomas’s lips. In that moment, she thought she might give anything to hear it again. Would he say it once more for her? Would she have to beg him?
No, she could never do that. She would have to act as though everything was fine and she was still just surprised. She would have to hide the hurt and behave as though she were simply delighted to see him, and not wounded by his actions or the abandonment she felt by his hand.
“Mr. Gregory, it is rather a shock to see you,” she said formally. “Or I suppose I ought to address you as Officer Gregory now?”
“You may call me Thomas as you have long done,” he replied softly.
Sophia looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact when all she wanted was to hear him say her name again.
