Page 35 of A Secret Infatuation
“Wise.” Evo bowed carelessly. “Well, if you succeed, summon me, by all means.”
He crossed the room and exited as Sophia closed her eyes. They really needed to do something about Evo. His upbringing had had the unfortunate recipe of too much coddling and too much neglect. Who would take him in hand? Miles was best at it, but he did not live with them. Much as she loved him, Evo was unpredictable, like a savage animal ready to strike out for no other reason than whim.
“Sophia, your brother was right on one thing.” Robert turned, and the skin above his cravat had grown red. “I am here to make you an offer. I think you know of my feelings for you.”
He stopped and stared at her as though willing her to confirm it. She looked away, unable to answer him. He had been giving subtle hints in those years before his mother died, and broad hints ever since the season started. Although she was certain Robert would make a fine husband to somebody who loved him, she was no candidate for the role. A woman of more fortitude would not be crushed by his brusque ways, but she would.
Sophia had been silent for too long, and he continued his course of persuasion.
“Well, I have always admired you, as you must have known, although your modesty prevents you from admitting it.” She inhaled silently as he continued, seeming to fear any silence that might permit her to refuse him.
“I do not think there will be any objection between our two families. Yours is higher in status, to be sure, but my family’s wealth is not to be discounted. And it is not as though I am merely of the gentry, for my father is a peer, as yours was. I’ve known you your whole life and will not expect you to suddenly become talkative or stand up to people with a stronger temperament. That is what I will do for you. I can stand up for you when you cannot speak for yourself.”
Sophia should stop his flow of eloquence, but it seemed impossible to interrupt when he had not directly asked the question. At her continued silence, he looked slightly less sure of himself, but soldiered on.
“I know it is the highest wish of my father, and given how well our fathers rubbed along together, I am sure yours would have wished for the same.” Another pause, and then, “So, I…will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
It had been fair in the way of proposals. He had offered his heart in the way he was most capable. It was painful that she could not give a favorable reply. She clasped her fingers together tightly, attempting to draw strength from the gesture.
“I am sorry, but I must disoblige you, Mr. Cunningworth. My heart is not engaged.” It had been blunt, but she had got the words out. Only after she had spoken them did she dare to lift her eyes.
He sat across from her and leaned forward. She saw the mix of hurt and anger in his eyes. “I think you cannot have thought this through. My father might not be an earl,” he began.
With sudden clarity, she knew he would continue to press her if given the chance. He would not leave until she was reduced to a mere pulp and had no more resistance in her. She summoned every ounce of courage she had and cut off his flow of speech.
“Mr. Cunningworth, we do not suit. It is not because your father is of a lower rank than mine. Such things do not weigh with me. It is because you deserve someone who thinks the world of you, and that woman is not me.”
After a stunned moment, he stood abruptly, his face mottled with color. “I allow that the shock of my proposal might have prompted a hasty answer. You must have time to reconsider. I shall not entirely despair.”
She stood as well. “I would not dream of telling you what to do, but I hope you will give it up. I am quite, quite resolved.”
Robert stood for the space of three seconds, then bowed sharply. He strode toward the door but halted steps away from it as he turned. “You will come to regret this decision.” He left and shut the door hard.
Sophia sat, trembling. It had been her first proposal and her first rejection. His words that she would regret it would continue to haunt her, even if she did not think it was true. It was astonishing to her that she had found the strength to turn him down, yet that was precisely what she had done. Love for someone else had perhaps made her strong. But she knew that even if she had never met Mr. Harwood, she could not have married Mr. Cunningworth.
When Felix received a request from the admiral to pay him a call at a specific hour, an odd fear struck him that the purpose might pertain to his daughter. He didn’t think so, but the last time he had been to the Mowbrays’ home, the admiral had purposefully left the two alone so they might talk, causing Miss Mowbray to be as uncomfortable as he was. After their conversation at the picnic, he thought she was astute enough to see that his heart was not free.
His fears proved unfounded, however, for when he was escorted into their sitting room, Mr. Edwards was already occupying one of the seats.
“Harwood, good of you to come,” the admiral said. “Our news will interest you.”
“I came as soon as I saw your note,” Felix said, choosing an unoccupied chair facing them.
Admiral Mowbray reached for a printed advertisement that sat on the table in front of him and handed it to Felix. “I imagine you have some familiarity with the balls and parties that go on at Vauxhall? This is for a masquerade ball that is to be held there.”
Felix read the advertisement. He had seen them posted in two public places, but he had not given them further thought. He knew only that Vauxhall could quickly descend into a gathering that only the less respectable guests would enjoy. He set the paper back on the table.
“Only a vague knowledge of it, nothing more.”
“Well, the Duchess of Wexcombe is offering her patronage for the masquerade ball. It is being done in an indirect manner, but by reserving a supper booth, she has made the event respectable. It will encourage others from Society to purchase a supper box and to attend the ball.” The admiral exchanged a glance with Mr. Edwards. “What has not yet been announced is that the funds collected will go directly into supporting the Royal Naval Asylum for building a much-needed ward there. Mr. Edwards had this from his father, who is on the committee.”
“Is that so?” Suddenly the event held interest. “How generous of the duchess.”
“Her Grace’s brother was a captain in the navy; I knew him. His ship sank in Gibraltar, struck down by enemy privateers.” The admiral studied his clasped hands. “I believe, in her quiet way, she is honoring her brother by sponsoring the ball.”
Felix nodded thoughtfully.
“I shall hope for your presence at the masquerade, for I have reserved a supper box for us all. My wife and daughter, Edwards here—and your sister, too, is that not so?—and the First Lord and his wife will sit with us. You may dress simply in a domino and mask if you wish, but on the chance we make Her Grace’s acquaintance, it would not go amiss if you were to put more care into your costume.”
