Page 26 of A Counterfeit Engagement

“Jonathan,” Sophie said softly, leaning over him.

Jonathan groaned and opened his eyes to the rosy morning light.

In the two weeks since their marriage, he had found himself remarkably eager to make his way to their bedchamber at night, and rather less eager to leave it in the morning.

With one thing and another, he had kept his bride up late last night, but it appeared that she had recovered more quickly than he had.

“I’m awake,” he said, and grabbed Sophie, pulling her on top of him. She giggled wildly as she went over, then settled down, propping herself up on her elbows and looking fondly into his face. “Was there something you wanted to tell me, Sophie?”

“Yes, or rather, ask you. Might we go out today? I thought you might show me another park.”

“Hmmm, a park,” Jonathan mused. “I am sure I can think of something fitting for a walk after breakfast. For now, however, I can think of much more delicious fare…” He nibbled at Sophie’s neck. Her startled laugh quickly turned into a sigh.

“Sophie, I think I have spent too little time telling you how wonderful you are,” Jonathan murmured. “It is a subject that requires further elucidation.”

Sophie laughed breathlessly. “It is too bad of you, Jonathan, to tease me so,” she scolded him.

“Not at all,” Jonathan said calmly. “That you are wonderful is simply a fact.” And with that, he began to kiss her in earnest.

They were rather late to breakfast, and Sophie blushed to see the knowing looks on the servants’ faces.

“I have it,” Jonathan announced. “The perfect winter walk for us. Sophie, I will show you my favourite walk along the Isis.”

“The Isis?” Sophie echoed. “A river walk would be delightful.” She tucked in to her bacon and eggs in earnest, made hungry by the exertions of last night and the morning. Jonathan did likewise, and for a time, their conversation lulled under the influence of hot tea and good food.

After breakfast, Sophie put on a stout pair of walking boots and a woollen pelisse.

The sky overhead was a leaden grey ceiling of high clouds.

Though rain seemed unlikely, the sun would not warm them that day.

Jonathan took her arm as they nodded to the housekeeper and set off along their way.

For a time, they were all but silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

Jonathan directed their walk easily, lightly tugging on Sophie’s arm at each turning.

It was not long before they reached the riverbanks.

“It is so peaceful,” Sophie said. “Strange to think this is the same river as our Thames in London.”

“Strange indeed,” Jonathan asked. He paused. “Sophie, there is something I wanted to talk to you about. It is about our return to London.”

Sophie squeezed his arm. “I am loath to leave so soon. But I suppose it would be odd to cancel the Haverly ball, even though it will no longer be the stage for Mary’s undoing.”

“It will have a far better purpose,” Jonathan declared. “After all, I must show the ton my new duchess. I must say, it will be a relief to go to a ball and know that I need never again worry about ducking the matchmaking mamas.”

Sophie laughed. “That must be a relief, indeed. Though I shall be worried nearly to distraction with making a good impression. Just think of having all those eyes on me! It will be worse than the first dance of my very first Season, for then I was of no particular interest to anyone.”

“You need not worry now,” Jonathan urged her. “You are the Duchess of Belford. It is for others, rather, to worry about impressing you.”

Sophie laughed again, shaking her head. “You have chosen a strange woman to make into a great lady, I am afraid. I shall never become used to having so much say in the lives of others.”

“That is all for the best, I am certain of it. I have seen it many times – it is those who feel they have a right to rule over their tenants and townsfolk that do the most harm and least good for them.”

“Just think, Jonathan, I have not even seen your estate. This is a strange way to begin a marriage, is it not?”

“Strange indeed, but I would not wish it any other way,” Jonathan agreed. His voice sounded rough to his own ears. It was unaccountable, he thought uncomfortably. The day was not as cold as all that.

He cleared his throat. “In any case, we must leave soon, so that we may return to London in time to make our preparations. There is the white soup to be made, the decorations, and you must have a ball gown.”

“Yet another gown, Jonathan?” Sophie exclaimed teasingly. “How you do spoil me. I shall not have time to wear all the dresses you wish to buy me.”

“I am afraid you must put up with it, my duchess,” Jonathan teased her back. “Sarah ought to have a new ball gown, and she will never consent to it if you do not.”

“You have outmanoeuvred me,” Sophie conceded gracefully. “In any case, it will be a pleasure to visit with Madame Duvall again. I have spent so much time with her this Season, we are becoming quite good friends.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Well, then. We must get back in good time, so that you and Madame Duvall may further your blossoming friendship. What think you, Sophie, of leaving this coming Monday?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Sophie agreed. “I will be sorry to leave Oxford. It has been so dear to me. The house is lovely, Jonathan, and you —“ She broke off all of a sudden, blushing violently.

Jonathan murmured close to her ear. “Dare I hope, wife, that you are thinking of certain wedded activities?”

Sophie just nodded, still speechless.

“Then I will simply say, my darling, that I too will forever after think of our time here with great fondness.”

Sophie smiled even through her blush. She made an effort to regain her equanimity and resume the conversation.

“Perhaps it is just as well that we will shortly return to London. It will be good to see our family again, indeed. I have not been separated from Isabel and Mother before in years. I have not had time to miss them, the days have been so full, but I shall be glad to see them all the same.”

“Our journey will be quick,” Jonathan promised, and as though of one mind, they turned and began the walk home.

∞∞∞

The carriage rattled away from Holywell Street directly after breakfast the following Monday. Sophie looked back a little wistfully, thinking of the blissful hours she had spent in Jonathan’s arms.

Gently but irresistibly, Jonathan took her hand in his, tucking her close against him. Sophie rested her head against his shoulder as the carriage bumped along. They sat in silence, spellbound in each other’s nearness, for many miles. Sophie was close to drifting off to sleep when Jonathan spoke.

“Should you like to see more of the world, Sophie?”

Sophie sat up, called back to wakefulness by her interest. “Yes, very much. I have seen so little, and all that I have had the privilege to see has been so interesting. What are you thinking of, Jonathan?”

She felt rather than saw him smile. “I do not know if I have ever mentioned it to you before, but my family has a small villa in Italy. It is in the countryside outside of Florence, to be precise. I rather thought of taking you there, if you would not mislike the idea.”

“I should like it very much indeed,” Sophie said eagerly. “And no, Jonathan, you have not mentioned it. A villa in Tuscany! We must go there as soon as we possibly can.”

“I am glad you feel as I do. When I was a young boy, my family used to visit nearly every year. My family was not — my parents — rather, my father especially was not all that he should have been. Our family life was not always as harmonious as I would have wished. But spending time in Tuscany was always a great joy to me.”

“I am sorry about your parents,” Sophie murmured. “That must have been very painful.”

“Yes. But, at any rate, it is in the past now.”

Though Sophie would have liked to inquire further, thinking that much relief might be found in honest discussion, Jonathan’s tone made it clear that he was willing to speak no more. She turned the subject.

“I should love to hear more of your time in Tuscany,” Sophie said gently.

Jonathan seized on the topic with alacrity, regaling her with stories of his youth amid Italy’s golden sunshine and rolling hills. And though Sophie was a little disquieted by what remained unspoken, she settled willingly into the joy of sharing things loved and times past.

The miles rattled away quickly as the carriage rolled on, carrying them swiftly back to London.