Page 7 of A Counterfeit Engagement

Time seemed to pass strangely after the assembly.

Nothing had changed, in one sense. There were the same walks, the same beautiful countryside and majestic sea, the same books and amusements.

There is no reason for anything to change, Sophie told herself, and likely I will never see him again.

If I am lucky, I may learn of how he deals with Mary Collins through my mother’s correspondence.

Anyway, at least I haven’t seen the Ferrars again.

In fact, little more than a week passed before the next news came.

Sophie was sitting in the garden, trying and failing equally to read and to stop thinking of the whole debacle, when she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves.

Sophie gave up the attempt at her book, set her bookmark back in it, and stood up from her chair under the maple tree.

It was not the post’s usual time, and visitors on horseback rarely came to their little cottage.

Sophie was more than half prepared to ward off Sir Owen.

She went to the lane with her spine stiffened and her face set, prepared for battle as best she could.

“Please forgive the intrusion, Miss Anderson,” Jonathan Haverly said as he swung down from his horse.

“Your Grace!” Sophie said in blank surprise.

A moment later, her wits and her manners returned to her.

“You are most welcome, Your Grace. Indeed, there is no intrusion. I cannot concentrate on my book in the least, and I would be grateful for even the merest scrap of news about — about — about that matter which concerns us both.”

Jonathan chuckled appreciatively at her difficulties. “It is indeed difficult to think of how to refer to such a circumstance,” he said ruefully. “If you are at home to visitors, Miss Anderson, I would very much like to speak to you about it.”

“Gladly,” Sophie replied. “Shall we sit under the maple, or in the parlour?”

“Under the maple,” Jonathan said immediately. “It looks a delightful spot.”

Some minutes were taken up in settling themselves at the table under the maple’s broad branches, still full of colourful leaves. The steepness of the hills even allowed them a view of the sea below, long breakers rolling in. Finally, Sophie broke the lengthening silence.

“You must tell me, Your Grace. What more have you discovered about Mary Collins’s scheme?”

He shook his head. “Little enough, I’m afraid,” he said.

“I have spoken to my aunt and my cousin, and while I could not by any means induce them to be more reasonable, I have found out some few details about why. The report is widespread indeed. My aunt had heard it from half a dozen different friends and a dozen servants and tradespeople. My cousin had as well, and also from sources which I shall not mention to a lady. Mary Collins has been very clever and very shameless, indeed.”

Sophie shook her head. “I did not think I knew her so little,” she said quietly. “We were friends once, or at least I thought we were. We are family still. I did not know that she cared so little for others.”

“People with good hearts do not generally think that others will be hardened and cruel,” Jonathan said grimly, picturing his mother. How surprised she had been, every time, at his father’s unthinking selfishness and malice.

Sophie shook her head, as though she could dismiss the world’s cruelty.

“In any case,” she said, “we may still simply deny the reports together, in a friendly spirit. No one can force you to marry me,” she said, attempting a jest that did not entirely succeed.

Jonathan saw the pain in her eyes at the last, evidence of old wounds.

He chose not to remark on what he had seen, feeling that it would be the kinder path not to mention it.

“More to the point, no one can force me to marry that scheming little baggage,” Jonathan said dryly.

“Be that as it may. To deny an engagement puts us both in a ridiculous position. We would be the talk of the ton even more than we are now, for they would look for a scandalous reason behind it. It is unfair to both of us, unsuitable to our reputations, and much too good for Mary Collins, who would get away scot-free.”

“That is true enough,” Sophie said thoughtfully. “I have not yet forgotten what London gossip is. Nor do I have any desire to be the story of the London Season ever again. What, then, will you do?”

He caught and held her gaze for a long moment. “I hope,” he said, “that it will be a question of what we will do. Miss Anderson, I will not tolerate such interference in my private life, such an attempt to manipulate me. Please, I need your help.”

Sophie took a deep breath. “What do you wish me to do?” she asked.

Jonathan looked off into the distance for a long moment, as though marshalling his plans.

“Help me fool her, as she wished to fool me,” he finally said.

“Don’t tell anyone that our engagement is just a story from a vicious liar — not yet.

Come to London with me. And when we are good and ready and Mary Collins is utterly confused, we’ll reveal what she tried to do.

Let her conniving and selfishness be the scandal of the Season, not our counterfeit engagement.

Better still, after such a reversal as Miss Collins will suffer, I am confident that no one will dare try such a trick again.

That is a prize of particular value to me, for I would give a great deal to ensure that Sarah’s peace will not be cut up as ours has been. ”

Sophie bit her lip, dreading the look of disappointment that must come to his face upon hearing her reply.

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” she said at last, “but I cannot come to London with you. It is true, everyone would take it as a perfect confirmation of the reports. And when we revealed that the engagement was only ever a fiction, what then? My reputation would be ruined. Perhaps it would not matter so much for my own sake. I have no expectation of ever marrying. But what of Isabel? The scandal would ruin her chances of a good match. Though I would gladly protect your sister against the threat of such schemes, I cannot do so at the cost of my own sister’s future. ”

To her relief, the duke did not seem inclined to ride roughshod over her refusal. He did not look angry at all, but was only nodding thoughtfully.

“Do I understand rightly, then, that you have no objection to the scheme itself, but only to its likely consequences for Miss Isabel Anderson?”

Sophie looked at him in surprise. He had sounded quite in earnest. “That is right, Your Grace, but I am afraid the problem is insurmountable.”

“I do not believe that is so,” he replied. “Quite the contrary. Miss Anderson, I should like to make a bargain with you — one that I believe may prove highly beneficial to both of us.”

Sophie looked at him warily. “What do you wish to propose?”

He smiled a little crookedly. “Come with me to London and fool Miss Collins.”

“But —”

“Give me just one moment more. I have no intention of ignoring your objections. If you will enter into this counterfeit engagement with me, Miss Anderson, I shall remove the risk to your sister’s future happiness.

On the night of the public assembly, you told me you would wish for Miss Isabel to have a Season above all things.

Agree to fool Miss Collins with me, and she shall have one — as fine and glittering a Season as the Haverly name and wealth can make it.

I will rent a house for your family, I will provide the gowns and acquire the necessary invitations — I will do everything.

In short, if it is within my power to see that your sister makes a suitable match, then it will be done. ”

For a moment, Sophie was too stunned to speak.

The picture of Isabel in London for a true Season, backed by all the power of a duke’s purse and reputation, almost took her breath away.

But it was surely too good to be true. The duke had merely been carried away by his enthusiasm. He could not possibly mean it.

“Surely you cannot be in earnest,” Sophie said at last. “The expense of it all…I cannot calculate what it would cost to rent a house, to hire servants, purchase the gowns — it is simply too much. Your Grace, you cannot mean to make such a bargain.”

“But I do,” Jonathan replied. “I would not have done so much merely to chastise Miss Collins, but to protect my sister, I would do far more. You need not worry that the expense would present a hardship for my estate. Please consider it, Miss Anderson. Is there not something fitting in turning Miss Collins’s dishonesty against her? ”

“There is, to be sure, and yet it seems a mad idea,” Sophie murmured.

She could not deny the temptation of it.

London held little enough for her. Only the pain of bad memories and the frail joy of the last place she had ever seen her father’s face.

But for Isabel, it would be something else entirely.

If her sister had a London Season, everything would be different.

She would be known as she deserved to be.

She would have her choice of suitors. It would be, quite literally, the chance of a lifetime.

“It is rather mad,” Jonathan agreed. “But please, Miss Anderson, consider it. I would give your mother and sister every attention that could promote their comfort and future happiness. And for yourself — forgive my forwardness. But something in your eyes makes me believe that you, like myself, have a taste for adventure.”

Sophie looked up at him, more than a little shocked.

He remained a respectful distance from her, out of reach even if he had stretched out his hand.

He had not said her given name or spoken with anything less than respect.

And yet — there was something of such intimacy, such understanding in his tone that it made her shudder. With some difficulty, she met his eyes.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, I will go to London with you, if my mother agrees I should.”

“Thank you, Miss Anderson,” Jonathan said earnestly. “We will make Miss Collins regret treating us so lightly, you and I. Your sister will have a sparkling Season if my money and my family’s name can make it so. And all manner of things shall be well.”

Sophie smiled at him, caught by something in his words, some half-remembered allusion to a phrase that she, too, had once read. “I must confess I am a bit frightened by the boldness of the plan,” she said to him, “but I am rather less frightened than excited.”

Jonathan grinned down at her. For a moment, something in his eyes changed, flared hot and urgent, and she almost thought his muscles shifted as though he would move towards her. In the next moment, his eyes were calm, the heat gone as though it had never been.

“Then let us go and speak to your mother,” Jonathan said. He smiled easily and held out his hand.

Sophie smiled back and took it. What a fool I am , Sophie thought. For a moment, I almost thought he wanted to kiss me.

No — it is worse than that. For a moment, I wanted him to kiss me.