Page 79
Story: His Enemy Duchess
“Gwen!” Sophia ran towards her old friend, pulling her in a big hug. “Oh, how much I’ve missed you!” She broke the hug and looked around her. “And how much I’ve missed this old house…”
“But My Lady—I mean, Your Grace—” Sophia winced at the title. “We weren’t expecting you today, and certainly not so early. To what do we owe this unexpected visit? Should I inform your father?”
“No need, Gwen. And please don’t call me Your Grace. I can tolerate it from strangers but not from a friend.”
“Yes, Your Grace… Yes, My Lady,” the maid responded, with a bow.
“I’d love to stay and catch up on all the gossip, but I’m afraid this isn’t exactly a courtesy visit.” Sophia dusted off her riding pants and stood straight. “There’s a very important matter I need to discuss with my family.”
She had intended to take the carriage directly to her family home, only to realize that she had not brought the diary with her and she might need it to validate her story. As such, she had been forced to return to Heathcote Manor first, to fetch the diary, and while there, she had decided that Violetta would manage the journey quicker than any carriage.
It was just past dawn, and despite her lack of sleep, she was not in the least bit tired, fueled by the excitement of what she was about to reveal.
“Your entire family?” asked Gwen. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Your older brother and your mother are visiting a carpenter in Maltbury for a commission. I think they will be out for the entire day and are not expected to return until nightfall.”
Curses. I must have just missed them.
“How about Samuel? Or my uncle?”
“Samuel has not yet returned from a gathering he attended last night. Your uncle is upstairs, I believe.”
“Well… better to talk to some of them than none of them.” Sophia lowered her head and ruffled her long hair, knocking some of the windswept tangles out of it. “All right.”
She straightened back up and walked off, heading upstairs.
“Father. Uncle.” She followed each name with a quick curtsy as she entered the drawing room where the two men had settled at her behest, both of them rather bleary-eyed.
“Your mother will be devastated that she missed your visit,” her father said sadly, reaching for a cup of steaming hot, weak coffee that he had brought in from the breakfast room.
“Not at all, for I intend to return the day after tomorrow, accompanied by my husband.” Sophia beamed, overjoyed to see her father again and to have such good news to share. “You see, I have some information that the entire family needs to hear, but I shall tell it piecemeal if I must. Indeed, it’s probably better this way.”
Frederick sat back on the settee. “What information? Do you have something of merit we can use to hang those Pratt wretches once and for all? Do tell me you’ve been our spy this entire time?”
“It pertains to my marriage and its nature,” Sophia replied, a slight bite in her voice.
Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as she had hoped.
Frederick nodded. “Has he finally shown his true face, that monster of a man? Pray tell, girl. Give us the ammunition we need to bring down this marriage and that family once and for all.” He turned to Charles. “Remember, my bet was high treason against the Crown. I can just tell I’m right.”
“Nothing of the sort!” Sophia raised a hand in a calming gesture, completely changing the mood. “That is not the case at all, Uncle. In fact, it is quite the opposite.”
The two men turned and focused their attention on her, curiosity evident on their faces.
With a nervous breath, Sophia took out the diary she had borrowed from Rosamund and started relaying the story. The truth, this time—the tragic tale of Eliza and Edmund. The ride there was long enough that she had enough time to practice how she’d present it to them.
After roughly ten minutes of storytelling, Sophia took a deep breath and held the diary to her chest. “And that is the entire story. Now, I understand that Eliza’s brother was still responsible, but there was no murder, no trickery—just a family’s stubborn control over a daughter. And the false rumors about Edmund were never spread among Society, as we were told. But they stayed within the family, purely as a means of manipulation.”
Silence fell, and silence was felt. The three of them were looking at each other with apprehension, no one knowing who was supposed to talk first.
Sophia decided to push a little bit.
“So? What are your thoughts on this, Father?”
Charles was deep in thought. “Sophia, my dear, are you sure about the story you just told us?”
“As sure as I see your eyes right now, Father.”
Silence stretched between them again.
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