Page 48 of Pursuing Mr. Mattingly

Chapter Fourteen

July 20, 1819

Masquerade ball

Sophia’s hands shook as she donned a glittering tiara. If she were to become a princess tonight for the ball, she might as well play it to the hilt. A glance into the cheval glass that stood in one corner of her dressing room showed the diamonds and rubies winking like mad in the candlelight and put her in mind of the stone of her engagement ring.

It had been two days since she’d coupled in the attic with Oliver, but that night she hadn’t slept well, and yesterday, she’d kept to her rooms, for her chest had been tight and she’d had trouble keeping her breath. Her husband had been beside himself with worry, thinking her decline had been his fault, but she’d waved him off and told him to play lawn games with the rest of the family while they had fair weather.

Mostly, she suspected her health woes stemmed from the fact that the walls around her heart had tumbled down more quickly than she’d anticipated and now she was more than halfway in love with him. Oh, it was a development she’d hadn’t wanted, for knowing her life could end at any time brought her early grief. She hadn’t wished for her marriage to deepen as it had, but there was something about Oliver that had made a leisurely slide impossible.

He would mourn hard, and so would she—for him before she even expired. She would mourn for a life together she’d never had the chance to cultivate. It simply wasn’t fair. Why shouldn’t she live to old age with him?

Thus, the reason she’d taken to her bed where she nursed a breaking heart.

Sophia had spent a large portion of today in her rooms, taking her meals on trays, but Hannah had visited and so had Oliver, but the worry and concern in their eyes had sent her deeper into that downward spiral. Because of her health, they already felt the effects of her looming absence.

I cannot bear it any longer.

“Oh, my dear, you are lovely tonight.”

“Thank you.” She turned about at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Hannah wished for me to go as a princess, so here I am.” The yards and yards of pale lavender silk felt like clouds around her. Clear glass beads and silver spangles decorated the overskirt and lined the low bodice. “I suppose my childhood self should thrill at this night.”

“You always did like those fairy stories.” Her mother, dressed as the goddess Hera, perched upon a chair nearby. “I came up tonight before the festivities begin because I’m worried about you.” A frown marred her mother’s face. “Are you nearing the end, then, since you’ve kept to your rooms recently? You are in pain, even though you don’t speak of it.”

“I can never be certain, of course, but of late, my chest has been tight and my heart hurts.” Speaking about it was almost as exhausting as going through it. Sophia dropped onto the bench of her vanity table. “Since my wedding, I haven’t been as careful as I should have been, and I’ve certainly let various activities carry me away.”

But she wouldn’t trade those times for the world.

When her mother tucked an escaped tendril of hair back into her Greek-inspired updo, the thin gold bracelets on her wrist tinkled together. “You worry that you should be living the life you have left, yet wondering if you should try to extend that life by sitting around doing little more than being a decoration.”

“Yes.” Even now, her chest was tight. It hurt to breathe. Why was it so hot? “As of yet, there haven’t been large shocks or scares, so I don’t know how well my heart will hold up if I encounter one, but perhaps I’m paying now for what I’ve been doing.” Had the coupling with Oliver in the attics set off a chain of events that would eventually lead to her early demise?

“I’m sorry this is even a concern for you.” Compassion and sadness shadowed her mother’s eyes. “I am also sorry that you have inherited your father’s weak heart.”

Sophia nodded. “Did Papa have an inkling he would go when he did?”

“I don’t believe that he did.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. No doubt her mother was remembering those last moments. “We had thrown the anniversary ball, of course, for we both did so love to entertain.” A rueful smile curved her lips. “We had danced many sets that night, and he’d tucked into his dinner with gusto. After the ball, we retired and went to sleep, the same as we had always done. But he never woke up.” A shrug lifted her thin shoulders. “From how he appeared in the morning, I would like to hope he passed peacefully in his sleep. But know this, my girl, your father lived his life to the hilt. He didn’t hide behind that fear, even when he probably should have, knowing that his father expired early of the same.”

“It’s a delicate balance.” She’d never known that about her father. Yes, he had been a larger-than-life figure to her, but perhaps if she’d been privy to his struggles and the overcoming of them, it might have helped her in her own. “The boys don’t seem worried that they might fall victim to the same state.”

“Of course not. They are men and wouldn’t show an insecurity if they can help it.” Her mother chuckled. “Though I’m more at ease knowing Arthur will marry again soon and have someone to look after him. He’ll be more apt to listen to Julianna than he would me.”

“He loves her to distraction.” Sophia fussed with how one of her elbow-length gloves lay on her arm. “I’m glad to see that, and his children adore her.”

“It’s refreshing, especially after he has struggled so long in coming to terms with everything. Gilbert, though, vexes me.”

“I am worried about him, but it is not my problem to solve.”

“No, it is not. I suspect both he and Madelene have gotten off-track, but if they still love each other, they can fix their union.” She shook her head and focused her bright gaze once more on Sophia. “But your own marriage is nothing to sneeze at. That man of yours shows himself in a good light with each passing day.”

“Agreed.” Her cheeks heated as her thoughts removed to how they’d spent the afternoon in the attics, at how free she’d been during those sessions, at how easy it was to forget her health concerns when in Oliver’s company. “He is an extraordinary man, and I’m only just beginning to realize how much.”

“Do you love him?” Her mother tilted her head slightly to one side as she rested a speculative gaze on Sophia. “When you married, you didn’t. I could tell, but you shared a connection with him, and you certainly didn’t waste time taking him to your bed.”

The heat in her cheeks intensified. “I won’t apologize for enjoying intercourse. It is something I will miss once I’m gone.”

“I’m not asking you to, but I am asking about the state of your heart, outside of its ills.”

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