‘No, no child. But, you cannot still seriously wish to press your suit? Not after this.’
Cal shifted to sit next to her. ‘I cannot pretend I do not wish that had not happened to you, Sophie. You have been hurt, your feelings about marriage must, inevitably, have been compromised. I cannot tell you I do not want to kill the man who hurt you, because I do. Badly. It was a while ago? And this is why you carry that knife?’
‘Yes, it was. Just after Mama remarried. And yes, I carry that knife because before I had no way of defending myself, not at first. I never want to be in that position again.’
His face darkened, then he smiled and said, ‘And you were young and foolish and romantic, which is why you said your mother and stepfather are a bad influence. I thought you were jesting, but you were not, were you?’
She shook her head. ‘Cal, we cannot forget this.’
‘No, of course not. But if you were a widow and had been married to a man you adored, just think how hard I would have to fight to keep from jealousy. Now I can dislike this former love of yours with a clear conscience.’
‘You do not love me. I do not love you, and yet you would be jealous?’ Am I seriously considering this? Marriage to this man? A future as a duchess? Yes, I suppose I am. If only she did not feel mildly queasy with nerves and some sense of impending disaster. That was no way to feel when the most eligible man in London proposed to you, perhaps was simply the ominous fencing master’s dark warnings nagging at the back of her mind.
‘I am possessive, Sophie. What I have, I hold. If this man comes back and tries to claim you then he will be facing me at dawn in some meadow, whether or not you find you have any feelings left for him.’
That should have been terrifying, instead, strangely, the admission was reassuring. Sophie’s spirits began to lift. ‘Tell me something.’ She turned her hand so his was palm up and began to trace the strong lines in his palm. ‘Is that sauce for the goose as well as the gander? May I expect fidelity from my husband?’
‘If you are faithful to me, Sophie, I will be faithful to you.’ There was a subtle threat in that she did not want to think through. Of course if she married Cal she would be faithful, anything else was out of the question.
‘Then you still wish to marry me?’
‘I do. We will do this in form, I think. I will call with all due ceremony on your stepfather, present my credentials, speak solemnly of settlements, ask his permission to address you. When will I find him at home?’
‘He will be in this afternoon. I do not believe he is expecting any visitors.’
‘Then I will go home now and send a very proper note.’
‘And Mama will be thrown into ecstasies and I will spend a dreadful few hours while she rakes though my entire wardrobe, has my maid try out at least three different ways of putting my hair up and bursts into happy tears every few moments.’
‘Then I am happy to make her happy. And to see your smile come back. I am sorry you had to relive that, Sophie, but I am glad you were so honest with me.’ Cal hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. ‘Honesty is very important to me. Honesty, trust, loyalty. Sophie, you are level-headed, aren’t you?’
‘I hope so. Why, do you fear my head will be turned at the prospect of such an elevation?’
‘No. I fear that you may become a target of sorts. Once it is known that you are important to me, of value to me, then others might seek to attack me through you. I do not want to frighten you, only to put you on your guard.’
Sophie had not realised how warm and happy and safe she had felt a moment ago. She had told Cal her secret and he still wanted to marry her. She was going to be a duchess, married to a man she liked and desired – and now it was as though she had taken a step and found a pit beneath her feet.
‘Cal, has someone been sending you threats?’
‘No, nothing of the kind.’ She was not certain that she believed his reassuring smile. ‘Perhaps I have become so used to travelling in dangerous parts of the world that I have come to expect perils around every corner. There is nothing to worry about, but I would not have you doing anything incautious.’
‘Of course.’ And why did she not believe him for a moment? And yet, despite the cold sinking feeling in her stomach she realised that she still felt safe with Cal. He would look after her and she would look after him, Sophie resolved. Someone needed to do something about that darkness he hid so well, and who better than a wife?
Cal ran down the front steps, jammed his hat on his head and strode off down Wimpole Street. Damn and hell and… He exhausted an extensive repertoire before he turned towards Cavendish Square and was forced to slow by the crowds on the pavement. Had he let his true feelings show? He thought not, hoped not, because he did not want to hurt Sophie and it was his problem, not hers, that he felt so bitterly the fact that she was not a virgin, that he would not be her first lover.
It was illogical, emotional and downright unjust to feel like that. He was not a virgin, for God’s sake, hadn’t been when he had married Madeleine, hadn’t stayed celibate after her death, so why did he feel like this about Sophie? It was not as though she was playing fast and loose, taking lovers, here there and everywhere. She had fallen in love with this man, whoever the bastard was, found she was mistaken in him and had been regretting it ever since. And, however it had played out, it had been bad enough for her to feel safer carrying a weapon now.
He went back over what he had said to her. Yes, he had managed to keep the disappointment, the irrational anger with her that he knew was unjust and unfair, out of his voice, out of what he had said, otherwise he was certain she would have refused to marry him.
So, he was starting this marriage with a mountain of lies. He was angry and disappointed that she’d had a lover. He was not telling her that he thought his life might be in danger and was marrying her anyway. She had told him frankly about her past and he had carefully not revealed anything of his first marriage.
‘Cal? Didn’t expect to see you around here.’ Jared stood directly in front of him, a rock in the river of passers-by who muttered and frowned and flowed around him on either side. No-one would jostle him of course, not after one look. ‘You have a face like thunder. Coffee might help.’
Cal shrugged as Hunt took his arm and steered him through the door of a nearby coffee house, grunted when offered coffee then sat and drummed his fingers on the scarred table top until his friend slapped his own hand down to still the noise.
‘Stop that, you are driving me mad. What’s wrong?’
‘I took a good hard look in a mental mirror and didn’t much like what I saw.’