Page 21 of A Counterfeit Engagement

The next day dawned stormy and chill, as though the weak winter sun had spent all its strength for a time.

Having breakfasted and removed to the parlour, the Andersons had scattered through the house as they dedicated themselves to their various employments.

Mrs Anderson was engaged with a book lent to her by a friend in town, joyfully immersing herself both in the story and in her renewed friendship.

Now and then, Sophie heard faint chords and arpeggios drifting through the house, evidence that Isabel was practicing the piano.

She herself had letters to write. There was the news to spread among their acquaintance, of course, but more importantly, it was crucial that Uncle Edward should not learn of the change in their fortunes casually or accidentally, as though they did not care about him.

How odd, Sophie thought. It has been five years since we last saw him.

We get a letter twice a year, if that. And yet I feel he could walk into the parlour tomorrow, and we would be as much family as ever.

Sophie had scarcely written the salutation to her letter before setting her pen down again, absorbed with a thousand questions and possibilities.

She was so abstracted that she did not even notice that the sounds of the piano had stopped.

She was only called back to herself by a knocking at her bedroom door. “Come in,” Sophie called.

Isabel opened the door. “I have been knocking for some time, Sophie,” she said with mild reproach.

Sophie shook her head. “I did not even hear you at first, I am afraid. I have been lost in thought.” She turned round her chair and gestured for Isabel to sit on the tidily made bed. Her little sister did, and sat looking at her expectantly. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Sophie, you must tell me what has happened, properly this time! You told Mama and me that you and the duke were now really and truly engaged. But there are such rumours! What on earth is going on?”

“I could not have told you everything before, Isabel, but I will tell you everything now. It would be a relief to my mind.”

“It would certainly be a relief to mine,” Isabel muttered.

“Well, then,” Sophie began hesitantly. “It is true — Jonathan and I really are engaged now. It was at the ball —“

“So, it is true, then?” Isabel interrupted in shock. “Sophie, I had heard that you and His Grace were caught together — that you were allowing him to take liberties — but I could not believe it.”

“It is true, but not all the truth,” Sophie said steadily. “Give me a moment, Isabel, and I will tell you all. In the end, I am afraid Mary Collins out-manoeuvred us. You see, she intended to have me caught with Roger Webb.”

Isabel gasped in horrified shock. “You would never!”

Sophie shook her head. “No. But she did not intend for me to have any choice. When Roger asked for my hand for the second waltz, he never had any intention of dancing with me. But he knew I would absolutely refuse to dance with him, and that I would have to sit out the dance. That meant that he and Mary Collins knew when I would be off the dance floor. And they both know me well enough to guess I would find a quiet spot to spend the time.”

“How could that benefit them?” Isabel asked urgently.

“I will tell you. You see, Mary Collins was dancing with Jonathan for the second waltz. She intended to make him suspicious of me, to convince him I was allowing Roger Webb to take liberties with me.”

“Jonathan would never believe that,” Isabel said with a snort.

“No. But Mary Collins has never understood his true character, or mine. When she tried to tell him I was unfaithful, and with Roger Webb of all people, Jonathan quickly guessed that she had some ugly scheme in mind. He left her and went to find me. And he was only just in time, because Roger Webb was — he was —.” Sophie trailed off, uncertain how to continue, or if she truly wanted to.

“It’s all right,” Isabel said. “I understand. Go on.”

“He broke my necklace, you see, and I was furious. I was fighting him, not well, but enough to make him angry. I could see that he had lost control and intended to hurt me. And then Jonathan came and knocked him down.” Sophie shuddered.

“It’s good to talk about it, I think. It makes me feel less shaken up inside.

I hope you do not mind too much, hearing such ugly things. ”

“No,” Isabel said firmly. “You can tell me. I want to know. Go on, Sophie.”

“Jonathan told Mr Webb that he would kill him if he went on. So he left, and Jonathan took me by the arm. I think he was afraid at first that I might faint. He was looking down at me, and I felt so safe, there with him, and I suppose neither of us were thinking properly. And then we kissed.”

Isabel gasped. “Oh Sophie! It’s so romantic.”

Sophie shook her head and chuckled weakly.

“We had lost our heads. And what neither of us realised at the time was that of course it wasn’t enough for Mary Collins’s plan to work, just for Mr Webb to take liberties with me.

Someone had to see it. And then Mrs Collins came in with a pack of her society friends, and they all saw us, clear as day. ”

“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes. After that, we did not have much choice, of course. Jonathan could have broken our false engagement, and I am sure society would have forgiven him soon enough, but I cannot imagine him doing such a thing.”

“Nor I,” Isabel agreed.

“But then he made me a proposal, a real proposal. And Isabel — I’m frightened, I suppose.”

“Frightened of what?” Isabel asked softly.

Sophie hesitated before answering softly. “I think I’m frightened of how much I want this, Isabel. Of how much I want him. I don’t think that I can possibly deserve it.”

“Then you will have to let me be certain of it for you,” Isabel said stoutly. “Jonathan is a lucky man, Sophie. I think you will deal wonderfully well together. In the end, everything will come out all right.”

Sophie let out an explosive breath. “Thank you, Isabel. That was exactly what I needed to hear.”

Isabel got up and made her way over to Sophie, arms extended. “Come now, sister. After events like these, I think we both need a hug.”

Sophie laughed and embraced her sister. “Isabel, I think you are wise.”

She nodded playfully. “Indeed, but am I a wise bridesmaid?”

Sophie laughed. “Could you imagine otherwise? You and Sarah will be my bridesmaids, and I am sure no bride ever had better ones. Let me tell you of what Sarah and I discussed so far…”

Under such a happy occupation, the hours passed quickly.

The sisters could have sworn it was no more than ten when Mrs Anderson came to call them to the parlour, though their engagement was for the noon hour.

The night before, Sophie had arranged that Jonathan and Sarah would be their guests for a light, informal luncheon.

It would give them all a chance to plan the wedding, which — now that a wedding was truly intended after all — must be done with rather more rapidity than any of them might have wished.

True to form, the Haverlys arrived with polite punctuality.

After the first greetings, the whole party moved to the dining room and sat down to a fine luncheon that deserved rather better than the general inattention it received.

But, as the cook said later to the second housemaid, you could not blame folks for being a bit distracted when they were so happy.

“If it meets with your approval, Sophie, ma’am,” Jonathan said, nodding to each in turn, “I shall purchase a common license, and we may be married shortly. I thought we might learn how much time Madam Duvall requires for the wedding dresses, and make our plans from there. Or have you any family that would travel to attend?”

The three Anderson women exchanged a long look. At last, Sophie shook her head. “I am afraid not, Jonathan. I should love to have my uncle attend, but he is in the colonies. It is out of the question.”

He nodded sympathetically. “That is a shame. Perhaps we might visit him one day. I am fond of travel, you know.”

“I did not know,” Sophie said thoughtfully. “Is it not odd to marry and know so little about each other?”

“That is always the way of it, my dear,” Mrs Anderson said with a wry smile.

“However well you know your future partner in life, there is always more to be discovered. Now, we have an appointment with Madam Duvall tomorrow, but I am much mistaken if the dresses would not be ready within a fortnight.”

“Sarah has told me of how much she looks forward to meeting you there,” Jonathan replied politely. He turned to his fiancé. “Will you find it difficult to choose the dresses, Sophie?”

She laughed. “You know perfectly well that I will do no such thing. I will simply tell Isabel and Madam Duvall something of what I would like, and they will manage it so that we all look lovely.”

“I do not mean to take over your dresses, sister,” Isabel protested. “It is your wedding, after all.”

“But you must,” Sophie replied. “I will have it no other way.” And laughing, Isabel was forced to assent.

After a short pause, Jonathan drew their attention back to making plans. “I thought we might go to Oxford for our honeymoon,” he said. “I have a townhouse there. Should you like it?”

She nodded. “I think it sounds delightful.”

“It is five or six hours by coach, so it will not be too difficult to avoid Sunday travelling. On what day would you have us wed?”

Sophie smiled. “Mama, do you really think Madam Duvall will have our dresses ready within a fortnight?”

Mrs Anderson nodded. “She said as much in confirming our appointment.”

“Then what think you all of Friday a fortnight hence? That will give us several days beyond our minimum, and we can easily avoid travelling during the Sabbath.”

Jonathan nodded gravely and took her hand. “Then Friday a fortnight hence it shall be. I will write to my housekeeper in Oxford directly, to be sure that all is in readiness.”

The party broke up not long after, all reflecting on the plans for the morrow, and the great change that would so soon take place.