Page 33

Richard grimaced in distaste. “Yes, before. I want to apologize for the chaos you have encountered since taking up residence at Balfour Terrace. I would have preferred our marriage to begin differently.”

“You could not help that someone played that vicious prank on you. However, Ethan should probably not have been a surprise?”

“I assure you that I was as surprised as you the past few days. More so.”

“Yes, but moving forward … perhaps you could inform me of such things. I would very much like to be your helpmate in this marriage. My own parents were … quite broken. Father always kept secrets about his gambling, and his drinking made him difficult to communicate with. And Mother wallowed in self-pity. Lord and Lady Moreland are much closer, and they work together. I would like our marriage to be more like that. A partnership and meeting of the minds.”

Richard chuckled. “Quite the revolutionary I married.”

“If it is revolutionary to know my mind and to speak my truth, then yes.”

“I agree. We will try it your way. You may require patience because I do not come from a close-knit family and I have not had a feminine influence in my life to soften me since I was a very small lad. I will learn.”

Sophia stuck out a hand. Richard stared down at it for a moment in surprise.

“Is it not what close friends do?”

“I suppose it is.” He shook her hand.

“It is an agreement, then. No more secrets.”

When Richard and Sophia entered the large room of Lord Lawson’s musicale, there was a momentary lull in the background chatter. Faces across the crowded room swung to stare at the two of them before talking resumed. Clearly conversation was shifting to the subject of the Earl of Saunton’s unexpected nuptials with that Hayward girl.

His bride held her head up high, her arm woven through his own, and they walked in together to greet Richard’s acquaintances. They soon found the Morelands and her cousin Lily near a marble column, and they arranged to sit together. Richard bid them to go ahead so he could collect refreshments for Sophia and himself.

The musicale was very crowded. Having located a server amongst the thronging guests, he held two glasses of orgeat, which he loathed but was all to be had, when he was jostled. Stumbling forward, he managed to hold the drinks steady and quickly returned to Sophia.

Taking a seat at her side, with the Abbott family lined up in chairs to her right, he handed her the drink. She pulled a face. Leaning over to him, she whispered, “When we hold our dinner parties and salons, there will not be any orgeat in sight. Must it always be sweet and watered-down?”

“You have not tried it yet,” he pointed out.

“You know I am right.”

He lifted his glass to take a sip, grimacing. “Indeed, it tastes like watered-down almonds with an excess of sugar.”

She grinned in response.

At that moment, Lord Lawson called for the audience’s attention. He was a swarthy man with graying hair at his temples, dressed in a black tailcoat, silver waistcoat, and snowy white linen. He introduced his young daughter, Lady Jane, who hurried forward to take her seat at the pianoforte with a daunted expression. Richard could not blame her. This event was very well attended, with more than a hundred guests in the room.

The debutante played the opening bars of an Irish aria which Richard did not recognize, but when she began to sing in a clear, high voice, he breathed a sigh of relief. Sophia had not overstated the Lawsons’ musical talent. He settled back in his hard-backed chair, easing into a position that was more comfortable. The seat was not designed for a man of his stature, and he was compelled to drop down to stretch his legs out under the row in front of him.

The music proved excellent, and he enjoyed observing the rapt expression on his bride’s face as she leaned forward to listen, tapping her foot in time beneath her skirts while her cousin swayed her head until she received a cutting glance from her mother. Sophia looked beautiful with her red-blonde hair braided into a coronet and soft curls falling to frame her face, which was glowing with excitement.

Richard scanned the crowded room, his posture stiffening when his eyes landed on a familiar figure from his past. Lady Partridge, a striking blonde widow with an infamous reputation, was staring openly at him. Their paths had crossed once before, two years ago, under circumstances he had no desire to revisit. Her bold tastes and forward manner had left a lasting impression—one he was content to leave firmly in the past. Yet now, she was smiling at him with a knowing look, her intentions unmistakable.

He quickly averted his gaze in quiet refusal, only to spot another familiar face—Lady Wood, seated beside her imposing and brutish husband. Their paths had briefly intertwined the previous year, and though their acquaintance had been short, he had sensed an undercurrent of unhappiness in her demeanor. Tonight, her pale complexion and subdued expression only confirmed his suspicions. Lord Wood was known for his harsh temper, and Richard couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the lady, wondering how much she endured in silence.

Clearing his thoughts, Richard shifted his gaze, careful not to let his lingering observations draw attention. A prickling sensation along the back of his neck made him aware of a guest seated just behind him, glaring intently in his direction. His nerve endings tingled with unease. Casting a subtle glance from the corner of his eye, he noted the dark-haired man but could not place him. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—it might be a husband with an understandable grievance.

Richard turned his gaze back to the songbird, Miss Lawson. With his storied past, it was not safe to let his eyes drift around the room. It was deuced uncomfortable to discover the musicale was littered with his indiscretions, and he would happily have stayed at home with his bride rather than be confronted by his mistakes.

As Richard thought about Sophia, his mind drifted to the quiet evening ahead, when they would leave for home. The day had unfolded pleasantly after the surprising arrival of his son was addressed. He had taken Sophia on a tour of Balfour Terrace, sharing the gallery with its treasured family portraits and recounting highlights of his family’s history.

They had spent time with Ethan in the library, playing chess and enjoying the boy’s eager enthusiasm for the game. Though still learning, Ethan’s grasp of the rules impressed Richard, and he found satisfaction in teaching him new strategies after their initial match.

Throughout the day and during dinner, Richard and Sophia had gradually restored the easy camaraderie they had shared on their wedding day. The warmth and companionship between them felt natural, a promising foundation for the life they were building together.

Now that the day’s tensions had eased, Richard allowed himself to imagine the quiet moments they would share later that evening. He looked forward to the intimacy of their new life together, the bond between them growing stronger as husband and wife. Sophia’s warmth and trust throughout the day had only deepened his admiration for her, and he found himself eager to explore the closeness their marriage promised.