The Wicked Widow and the Jinxed Jilter

Part 19

"Good morning, Lord Allingham," Sophie smiled when she ran into him again by accident the following morning. She had chosen the beautiful green path for a stroll and had been entertaining a slightly more than faint hope of meeting him. It had taken her over an hour to find him finally and now that she had, she could not help but smile, despite one remarkable oddity. "Do not turn around to look. Someone is not doing a very good job of following you."

The sneaky figure's presence intrigued her immensely, especially because he was appallingly bad at following someone and she had noticed him not more than a second after she had noticed Allingham. She had observed that the figure ran from tree to tree, keeping some distance between himself and his prey. It was insane. What could be his purpose?

Allingham took off his hat and bowed. He could not suppress a smile either. "Good morning. That is one of my mother's servants." He had already spotted his unbidden escort and planned to tire him out by taking useless walks and climbing over walls. Apart from the fact that today's outfit was a little too nice to be ruined, he had feared he would not see Sophie if he did, so he had not yet gone to rougher terrain. Here she was now, so his delay had been correct.

Sophie glanced past him. She was ready to assist. "Does he want to kill you?"

He was amused at the implication that she would prevent it. "I doubt that." He was almost sorry to say that, since he would love to see her take action. "Do you have your dagger with you?"

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him disapprovingly, knowing what had reminded him of daggers. "You ought not to have seen my stockings."

"I never mentioned stockings," he protested. "I do not care about your stockings one bit. Well, I do, but not in the sense that..." He feared he was becoming incomprehensible.

Sophie laughed. "Very good, because I was going to tell you in a most moralising manner that I am the same person whatever I wear, or however my stockings may be on display." She was a good pupil. She understood what she was told and put it into practice.

Allingham smiled, but then looked more serious. "However, daggers do not equal letters."

"One makes me a better person than the other?" She hesitated. "I would show you what I carry, but it would not be wise. Not here, not now. I do not even own a dagger. I may not be so bad. Did your mother send a servant to protect you from me regardless?"

"Perhaps." Not here, not now? He was intrigued.

Sophie made up her mind. "I insist that you escort me to the parsonage instantly. I could not be seen walking with strange gentlemen, you know," she spoke archly. "People would only gossip. They might think I was setting my cap at you."

"We could never allow anyone to think that." He offered her his arm and they set off for the parsonage, a little disappointed that they would not walk further. They had some things to discuss.

"And did you not feel a great desire to call on Frederick?" she asked, in case he was thinking they would part ways there. That was not her plan. "I thought I spied it in your manner."

"Undeniably," Allingham said with very little enthusiasm.

"Well, I know and I can tell you this beforehand, that he is out calling on villagers, but your watchdog cannot be aware of it. He does not look very clever. Biscuits and tea shall be served nevertheless, even if you will have to make do with me as your hostess. To what do you owe the honour of being accompanied in such a laughable fashion?"

He did not know whether it was laughable. "The argument with Lady Maye last night, no doubt."

She had expected something of that nature. "What was resolved? Nothing?" She wondered how that sounded, but honestly, if Lady Maye sent a servant to spy on her son, not much could have changed.

He suppressed a comment on her prejudice, but he realised he could not claim victory yet. "She did not embrace me, nor did she beg to be better acquainted with the dear sweet girl who insisted on marrying her favourite son."

"I have some trouble seeing you as her favourite son. From her point of view, that is," she added. "Her behaviour..."

"I am her only son."

"That explains it," Sophie said mysteriously. "But tell me so later. We must not been seen to converse too easily. Your mother would undoubtedly ascribe it to wicked motives on my side."

He wondered if he should talk to her about his mother, but he supposed she would discover it sooner or later. Other things were more important at the moment, such as enjoying the walk, if that was at all possible with someone following them.

This time, they did not use the fence when they came to the parsonage, but they went through the front gate like two ordinary people. It was also the slightly longer route, an important consideration this morning.

Apparently Louisa and Frederick were not at home or they were busy. At any rate, nobody disturbed them when Sophie requested the promised tea and biscuits from the kitchen.

"Had I ever said that I was not actively involved in Sir Oswald's death?" Sophie asked as she was trying to peer out of the front window without being seen. She sat on her knees and kept her head level with the plants.

"I never thought you were." Allingham stood in a corner and looked upon her figure with an amused eye. Instead of walking into the room normally, she had crawled towards the window. He had not copied these movements, but he had watched to see why it was done. "Not even when Stanley first told me your history."

"What he believed to know about my history," she corrected. "It was never my intention to see the man die, but when it happened I was extremely glad for it. You must know the precise extent of my deviousness, so that you will know you will not meet with the same fate."

"I never thought I would." He felt pleased at the implied confirmation that they would be wed. Last night had not been a whim, although he had never expected Sophie to be whimsical.

Sophie was satisfied with the scenery outside. Lady Maye's servant was not lurking, but he appeared to have gone back to report to his mistress the moment they had reached the parsonage. Her reaction was of later care.

She straightened up again and continued her explanation. Experiences came back to her that had to be mentioned, for they explained some of her attitude. She knew it could never be a complete excuse, which was why she could not give it too much prominence or emphasis. "He said things that cannot be repeated and that frightened me. The veneer of civilisation is very thin indeed."

Allingham perceived the topic made her distressed. There was a certain expression on her face. He was beginning to feel rather distressed himself at the idea that something could have happened to frighten or disgust her so. "Will you not sit down?"

She let herself be led to the sofa, barely registering the fact that he did not let go of her arm. Seated, she took a deep breath, staring ahead. A sympathetic ear made one want to talk. "You cannot know how his words shocked and haunted me through the years, even if he spoke them and dropped dead. I have never told anybody. It is not something one can speak about. I did not know whether this was an ordinary state of affairs between husbands and wives, to be so..."

"Respectless?" he guessed.

She turned her face towards him. "Perhaps behind closed doors it is normal behaviour and I am silly for feeling it is revolting. If there were but a little respect! You may not even understand. You respect your farm animals more than he respected a wife, I would say."

To that he could only look shocked. He could not imagine that he would think less of a wife than of a random animal. He could not even imagine he would feel the same about them, as much as he believed animals on the farms deserved good care as well. How could someone then rate his own wife below animals?

He would almost ask what Sir Oswald had said to her to understand it better. It would give her pain, though, and he hesitated. But he had to ask. "I need to know what he said, so I can assure you I will never."

Her expression softened a bit. "You will never. You cared more about sick sheep than he could ever have cared about me." She had never thought of that before, but it was very comforting.

"Please?"

To find the strength to say it she dug her fingers into his hand without being aware of it. Then she closed her eyes and repeated the words with difficulty until he stopped her.

Even toneless they made quite an impact. Allingham silenced her even though he sensed there was more to come. He had heard enough. "If he were not already dead I would have killed him for you," he said in a hoarse voice he barely recognised as his own.

"I do not think you could," Sophie said surprisingly. "Because I might already have done that myself if his evil nature had not done him in. Would you still have me?"

"Yes. But I ... I feel despicable now for saying to Stanley that I must have you." He was probably too honest for his own good. She would not appreciate the confession.

Sophie frowned. "I cannot see how you could have had anything disrespectful in mind. I feel that was something completely different, more related to taking a concern in my affairs. Have me as acquaintance, friend, wife, I do not know what -- in a good sense."

He considered that.

"I never saw that in a good sense, by the way. Now I think it might be possible, however." She smiled a little. "I gave in to pressure to get married, but I did not know what I would be facing. If there were signs, I misread them. I escaped once. I did not want to try my luck another time. I tend not to correct any rumours because it keeps me safe from attentions. I am still young, pretty and wealthy. If word got out that my husband dropped dead before reaching the wedding bed I am sure I would become another prey. My body unspoilt, but my mind so poisoned."

"It pains me to hear of your experience," Allingham said, feeling deeply moved. "Really," he added, "although anyone could say such a thing."

Not everyone could look like that, however. Sophie smiled gratefully in response. He was sincere. "The appearance of good breeding and civility means nothing to me anymore," she said with a hint of sadness. "Everyone can feign. It does not predict what people may say and do in private, when there is the least chance of others hearing of it. The contrary is fortunately also true. You are very good in private, even if to others you may appear scandalous. You do not shed your goodness with your coat."

Nor with any other garment, he almost said. "Sophie," he began, but he was interrupted by noises in the hall, signifying that someone had arrived. He immediately moved a little further away from her.

Part 20

"I was told we had a visitor!" Frederick said jovially as he entered the room.

Sophie was a little cheered by Allingham's calling her Sophie in such a caring tone and she was able to look calm and composed, not at all distressed. There was still a lump in her throat, but fortunately that was out of everybody's sight.

"I was lured in with the promise of biscuits and tea," Allingham replied quietly, not yet able to be jovial in return. "And I was not disappointed." As distressing as Sophie's confidences had been, they had been confidences and she had trusted him with what might be her deepest secret. This was in fact what he had wanted to have: her trust. It was worth more than holding her hand, although he quite regretted that he had not realised he had been holding it until they had had to move apart upon hearing the sounds from the hall. His hand felt cold and empty now, colder and emptier than before her hand had filled it.

"Did you meet by accident again?" Frederick inquired with a smirk.

"Not really. I have figured out where she walks," Allingham admitted. Claiming an accidental meeting again would not fool anybody anymore, although he did not know what Sophie had told her hosts with regard to last night. He wondered how much they knew. From that smirk he would deduce that not everything had yet been discussed, but that it was definitely suspected. This was not the moment for further enlightenment. "Did you see a servant of my mother's lurking about?"

"No. Should I have?" Frederick looked puzzled. He had no idea why a servant should be lurking. It sounded rather suspicious.

"No, preferably not, as he should be made to think you were already here when I called. She would undoubtedly misconstrue the purpose of the visit if she heard nobody was here except Lady Sophie."

"Oh." Frederick thought he might subscribe to Lady Maye's suspicious way of thinking, whatever Allingham said to the contrary. "How is your mother?" He was almost afraid to ask, if she sent servants to spy on her son. Things might have come to blows after they had left last night.

"She is very upset, naturally, and she promised to do everything in her power and all that." Allingham waved his hand about indifferently, as if it was of no consequence.

"What will she do? How would it help to send a servant to spy on you?"

"That is a question only my mother will be able to answer," Allingham said. She had perhaps thought he would be murdered by Sophie in the woods. "We can only guess. Perhaps it was for protection."

Frederick shook his head in wonder. He looked from one to the other and made up his mind. "Indeed. I shall be with you again shortly, but I must confer with the carpenter for a few minutes."

"What were you saying?" Sophie said the second Frederick closed the door. Her fingers closed around his arm, as if to prompt him.

"He will be back," Allingham warned, his eyes on the door.

She knew that, but she wished to ignore it. Frederick had to know they would be discussing things of a particular nature. He would hardly be surprised if he walked in on them -- she hoped. "You were not saying that."

"You seem very interested," he said a little teasingly.

"You called me Sophie. That makes me interested." It could have been about his mother or about them, but at any rate it would have been something personal.

He had called her Sophie indeed, without having intended it. Certain things simply happened between them. "I wanted to say -- but perhaps I should not, if he will be back." More things might simply happen.

"Yes, you should," she begged, "or you will have me wondering forever and you would not want to make a lady so distressed."

"Was I civil enough in calling you Sophie?" Allingham could guess at the answer, but he wanted to be certain.

"You are on the whole very civil. Get to the point," she said impatiently.

He smiled. "You just stated my point. I am on the whole very civil. Even when I am alone with you."

"If you wish to be a little less civil, you may." If he wanted to take her hand to hold, she would not pull it back. It would still be very civil, but perhaps not by other people's standards.

He was still smiling, but it turned into something more serious. "Sophie ... I am not sure how you are going to take this ... but this morning I wrote to your mother and your brother, not to request your hand, but --"

She gasped. Not? He did not want her? He was not allowed to say that when she had decided she wanted him. Her face fell.

"-- to request their acceptance of my taking it."

"Oh!" Sophie said involuntarily. "That is quite ... unexpected." She pressed a hand to her mouth. "And will this news arrive at the same time as the invitation that your mother has been talking of sending?"

"I would rather you commented on the contents of the letters than on the timing of their --"

This time it was not Frederick but Louisa who interrupted them. "Good morning, both of you," she said cheerfully, ignoring that Sophie was pretending she had not been squeezing Henry's arm. "What are you doing here, Henry? Should you not be entertaining Lady Maye?"

He was able to recollect himself quickly. "In a sense I am. She sent a servant to spy on me. I am sure she keeps herself entertained with his reports."

"I have a feeling Lady Maye will arrive shortly to see whether I am not busy murdering her son," Sophie said in a reflective tone. "She must really be displeased with our going into the parsonage where her spy could not follow. I am sure this will distress her tremendously. Since I am fervently hoping she will not come, she probably will."

"Busy murdering her son? Did I interrupt anything by coming in?" Louisa asked, glancing at the empty tea cups and the tray of biscuits. It looked like nothing more than an agreeable chat, but the fact that Henry had actually come into the house pointed at something else. "You have only to send me away." She stood at the window to look out.

Sophie contorted her face at Allingham to signify he should indeed send Louisa away. To her great frustration he only shrugged patiently and when she kicked him, he smiled.

Louisa saw a carriage approaching. "You were right, Sophie. There she comes. Shall I receive her in another room so you can continue with your nefarious plot?" The couch had squeaked, although she did not know why, but people sitting in innocent peace could not make even an old couch squeak.

"Please."

Louisa paused at the door. "Will you only keep in mind that my husband is the respectable parson of this parish and that as such he cannot lend too much approval to plots that are too nefarious in nature?" A modest kiss would be all right, but matters should preferably not become too heated in here.

"Dishonesty and feigning respectability is more nefarious than a mere chat between friends," Sophie commented. She rose to her feet to defend herself. "Dishonesty and feigning respectability is what leads to loveless alliances and disrespect and I shall not --"

Allingham reached his hands up to her waist, grabbing her on either side. He pulled her down. "Do not distress yourself so."

Sophie shut up immediately.

Part 21

"The contents of the letters," Sophie mused when they were alone again. She could still not completely believe the contents of the letters. Never would she have expected him to notify her relatives in this manner, or even to take any initiative in this regard. The initiative had been all hers and he had seemed content to wait.

It was quite astonishing that he should have written to her mother and brother to say he was taking her hand. There was no need to ask for permission from either. For the last three years she had arranged all her business on her own with very little interference from anyone. In fact, she had been the one to assist them whenever necessary. She wondered how they would react to this message now. It was impossible that they would object -- they had no grounds on which to do so.

She remembered that she ought to reply because he was still waiting. "Well, they astonished me. I had no idea you were so forward." He had just pulled her back onto the couch, which was also surprising, but that might have been because he was afraid she would be carried away and say too much. She had rather liked it, though. It had shown some concern. He did not want her to be distressed.

"Have I not told you repeatedly that you are beautiful?" To him that had always appeared very forward. He had never done anything like that before.

"Well, yes," Sophie said, still staring at him wonderingly, "but I did not know you wanted to marry me. One does not follow from the other."

"In the optimal case it does." It was good, he would say, that he would think his wife beautiful.

"But where did you get the idea that this was an optimal case?"

"Where did you?" Allingham countered quickly. He already knew where he had got the idea and it was more interesting to hear why she wanted to marry him, especially because she had had such a bad experience and she could not be too eager to marry anyone without having a good reason.

Sophie blushed. She was not yet ready to explore her heart and mind, especially not her heart, and voice her findings. "I mean of writing to my mother -- and my brother, although I told you his opinion and approval are useless, so it is wholly ceremonial to inform him."

He was not at all surprised or disappointed by her answer and he smiled to let her know that. He had only been teasing. "I did not know whether my mother had sent an invitation already, so I thought I would send an express to head her off. Your relatives might then be surprised and shocked, but perhaps not as embarrassed as they would be if they came here and found they were invited under false pretences. It would appear that way to them if your mother came here with plans for your sister and then found me taken already. By you, no less, who never breathed a word of your plans to her. I assume you did not."

"When I last saw my mother I did indeed not have any plans." She knew when she had first conceived of her plan -- at dinner -- but perhaps something had prepared her for the idea before then.

"I thought as much, because your behaviour in the beginning was a little counterproductive, so I put myself in your mother's place and thought it best to enlighten her, so that she would not have to suffer any humiliation or anger in the company of strangers."

"Do you think she might be angry?" Sophie had not given much thought to her mother's feelings at all. She had been too caught up in her plan. Her own feelings mattered more, but she ought to take care not to hurt her mother's feelings too much. Luckily Allingham was a much more considerate person than she was and such thoughts came naturally to him, long before they came to her, it seemed. He was a good man.

"I do not know your mother, but it is possible. You have seen mine." Perhaps if they schemed together, they were kindred spirits.

"Yes, that is true," Sophie conceded. "Mine might indeed also be disappointed upon finding her plans are thwarted, more so than my sister, even if she did like you." Catherine was young, however, and she would get over such a youthful folly.

"Without knowing me!" He did not care for the sister at all. They had not even met in such a way that he remembered it.

"Did you not stalk me without knowing me, to tell me I was beautiful?" She raised her eyebrows. On the surface both situations were similar.

But he had seen her face and read some of her feelings there. He had known that much at least. "Perhaps if your sister had stalked me to tell me I was beautiful, I would have a different opinion." He might have known her better in that case.

Sophie looked doubtful. "I do not think that would be a better opinion. You would think it a youthful folly."

He was not sure whether to look smug or not. "I suppose I should be glad that you could never think me youthful and thus not foolish for doing the same."

"You are quite strong for an old man," she said appreciatively.

"Oh, thank you! But is this a characteristic you like?"

"Well, I must say it is rather comforting to know you can save me by lifting me out of the reach of danger."

Allingham's bottom lip quivered. "I hope you do know that being lifted up by a gentleman is commonly believed to be putting a lady in danger and not out of it?"

"Oh, really," Sophie said as if she did not believe that at all. "You are so very dangerous, My Lord."

He grinned at that, quite mischievously. "Well, do not think I am not. You know what happened after you met me."

Louisa tactfully ushered Lady Maye into Frederick's study. "I shall have a look shortly," she said in response to a repeated demand. "Please have a seat first."

"There can be no delay!" Lady Maye wailed in a distressed tone, her hands clutching her coat. "She is a murderess and she is busy ending Henry's life. I must stop that woman."

"Please sit down while I look around."

"You know where they are or you would not put me in this room! This is not a room in which you receive all your visitors, Mrs. Warden! Where are they? Henry! Henry!" She made for the door.

Louisa blocked her way. "Allow me to look for them."

"They are in a bedchamber, are they not? May God have mercy! And you would be too shocked to enter. Show me the way, Mrs. Warden. When my child is in danger I do not care. I need to save him. I will go into that room and drag her off him."

"I..." Louisa had turned crimson at these last words. She felt helpless. What could she say?

Frederick came to her assistance. His business with the carpenter -- himself, for he was not averse to taking up a hammer -- was done and he had returned to the house, to find shrieks and wails emanating from his study. He had hurried there, fearing that Henry had somehow been overly passionate in his proposal and subjected Sophie to some unwanted lovemaking.

He was happy to find he was wrong, but not so happy to find he was now called upon to correct Lady Maye's fear that Sophie was subjecting Henry so some unwanted lovemaking. It was preposterous. "Why would she do that in my small house when they could have the Hall?" was the first remark that occurred to him. He realised he ought to say neither would do such a thing, although commenting on the size of his house would probably be more effective where such a deluded woman as Lady Maye was concerned.

Part 22

"Am I a good escape from my sister or am I a choice?" Sophie asked in a teasing manner. He would take her hand, but she still did not know whether he only thought her beautiful or whether he had a deeper interest in her.

"Am I an alternative to your sister's ruin or am I a choice?" Allingham countered.

She could do the same. "A choice. Someone must save you from your unhappy fate."

He knew she held that opinion. Perhaps he should break the news to her gently that he did not really need to be saved. "What if I can save myself?"

Sophie thought this was merely a verbal game and not a sketch of his character. "Someone must show you how to dress."

He indicated his clothes, looking as fine this morning as they had last night. "I showed you that I can."

Sophie followed his gesture with her eyes, travelling down from his coat to his trousers. "Indeed. You look fine today, very fine. Then someone must accompany you on your walks."

"I shall settle for that," he said generously. "It is the simple things indeed that provide enjoyment in life. I shall be quite satisfied to walk with you."

"Well, there is no poetry in simplicity, they think," she said reflectively, as if she disagreed.

"They think? Who are they?"

"The people of grand and useless passions."

Allingham was amused. "If I developed a grand passion for you, would you call it useless as well?"

She blushed modestly. "I do not know if you will and what I should think of it, but if you expressed your grand passion in writing, I am not sure it would be of much use to me, however poetic and eloquent it might be and however much it might appeal to people who cannot find any positive passion on their own."

He looked slightly alarmed at the territory into which she might be venturing. "Er...how would you propose that I express myself?"

She reached down and grasped the hem of her skirts, keeping her eyes on his face.

His eyes widened. "Here, now?"

"It may still not be wise." She stopped when her hems were just below the knee. Perhaps someone would enter the room and think all manner of not very respectable things of her. They might be wrong or right, depending on whose side they chose. She could understand either perspective. It was best to leave the final decision to Allingham. "What say you?"

It was worth a try. "I say do not be so tantalisingly slow about it."

At that small smile she lifted her skirts more quickly and drew a folded note from her stocking. "This," she said, "is very simple, but no less effective. If you were honest and do indeed treasure my letter."

"I do not carry it on my person, but I keep it in my bedchamber. Is my letter an example of how I should express myself?"

"Clear, simple and honest, but perhaps I would also like to be taken on walks or lifted onto walls, if you do not think the latter very scandalous."

"I believe that can all be arranged. I do not think it scandalous at all," he said with a grin. Wails could be heard outside the room and he glanced at the door. "I am afraid my dear mother has set foot in the house and she is not content to stay put."

"Oh!" Sophie said in excitement. She was not at all afraid.

He listened, but the sounds became muffled. Louisa had apparently ushered Lady Maye into another room. "That gives us very little time to wrap the matter up." There was something he had wanted to discuss with Sophie, but they kept talking around it and not mentioning it by name.

Sophie walked to the door and pressed her ear to it. "I think she may really be fearing I am keeping you locked in one of the bedchambers. She may think you have already given up your last breath."

Allingham thought he would stay voluntarily without needing to be locked in. He would certainly not die. "I am made of sterner stuff than that."

"You would cross the threshold and stay alive?" she asked, but someone opened the door against her and she stumbled backwards.

"What are you doing?" Frederick asked in surprise.

"I was listening at the door. Frederick, you must marry us," she said impulsively.

He did not even look surprised. "I thought you might be up to that sort of thing, which is why I went to speak to the carpenter, but I thought if I left you alone for too long you might be up to no good at all. Obviously it happened sooner than I thought."

"It is as I said," Allingham lazily said from the sofa. He was looking rather smug. "Allingham Hall will have a mistress when Lady Allingham feels like it." He looked pleased to have been correct in this instance. He had wanted to discuss it, but she had brought it up first.

"You do not really sound averse to the idea," Sophie shot back. "But do you mean any person who gets it into her head that she may want to become Lady Allingham, may?" That was really not the impression she had received.

"No, only persons I have selected. Tut tut," he said, as if she was being silly. He got up. "Perhaps we ought to enlighten my mother and put her mind at ease with regard to my demise. Frederick?"

"Yes? That might be a good thing. She has an attack of the nerves."

"What happened sooner than you thought?" Allingham asked in a low voice as they followed Sophie out of the room. She seemed eager to confront his mother, almost skipping ahead.

"That what undoubtedly just passed between the two of you."

"That what you undoubtedly think passed between the two of us is deuced hard to accomplish with one party sitting on the couch and the other listening at the door," Allingham said with an amused smile. "From what I have seen, you and Louisa are never so far apart when these things pass between you."

"Then why must I marry the two of you?" It could only be because a wedding was now unavoidable. In any other case Sophie would have used different words.

"Because she says so and we do what she says."

"Always?" Frederick asked with audible scepticism.

"As long as it is convenient to me." Allingham winked and followed Sophie, who was peeking into rooms. There were not that many and she was successful at her second try.

"You are alive!" Lady Maye exclaimed when her son entered the room. "The wretched minx did not murder you!"

These words made Louisa disappear very quickly. She would rather they sorted this family issue out in private, when they needed not remain polite for her sake and they might sooner get to the point.

"Very impolitic," said Sophie, who had preceded Allingham into the room. "There are still things I want from him."

"His fortune?" Lady Maye stopped just short of throwing herself into her son's arms. That woman was in her way.

"No, better things." She thought she might enjoy his company and friendship, but Lady Maye would not know what those were.

"Mama, this is my choice," Allingham said, taking Sophie's hand. He did not know which things she wanted, but he thought he might give them willingly.

Lady Maye looked away as if she could not bear to see the affectionate gesture. "You are an ungrateful son who insists on bringing his poor mother misery! It will be the death of us both! How could you end the family line right here?"

Sophie imperatively squeezed the hand that was still holding hers. It was warm and its grip was firm and it was odd that its owner was so much less firm. "Madam, you underestimate your son. I am sure he would not spend half so much time on his estate if he did not plan to pass it on to ... someone. If he knows how to continue the line of cattle, then surely he --"

Allingham interrupted her. Certainly, he knew how to continue a line of men as well, but Sophie's examples were better off unvoiced. He had no idea where the notion of the line of cattle came from. He had never mentioned cattle to her, except the bull, and that had been in an innocent context. "Indeed. Mama, you can accept my choice or the remainder of your stay at Allingham will not be very pleasant to you, I fear." His mother would be confronted with Sophie too often.

"Has she taught you the ignoble art of threatening? A murderess, Henry! Look at her! She does not behave like a decent widow!"

He stayed calm. "She is not a murderess and she will not murder me."

"I give life, rather," Sophie interjected. Perhaps there were even more things she still wanted from him apart from friendship and company. Now that she was given the means, she might as well make use of them. Before she could continue, she was silenced by a pull on her hand.

"She is not a murderess. Since when do you believe in idle gossip?" Allingham turned aside. "Will you murder me, Sophie?"

"No, I will not," she said quietly, still impressed with the pull on her hand.

He drew her aside for some private whispering. "Allow me to be a little less civil with you at this moment, but you should be a model fiancée -- to my mother. To me you already are. Will they have your hair? Let me speak with my mother in private. I shall convince her." He kissed her hand softly, his eyes never leaving her face.

Part 23

Sophie went into the garden to pace around. The rooms were not large enough for that activity and she needed it, as well as some cool air. Would they have her hair? He seemed to catch everything, which was quite a feat when she was not being literal. Perhaps this was because they were having the same thoughts. Where had they come from? It was best not to think about this yet. It was best to return to the situation at hand.

Sophie strolled around and studied for ways to get Henry to kiss her hand again. Perhaps he reserved this for special occasions, but then she must bring those about. How shocking was it to be half swooning over the gesture? And then to want it again? Henry was very different from those so-called gentlemen who had chased her into corners. She did not feel disgusted when he was near -- on the contrary. She wished he would never go.

"Sophie?" Louisa called from the door. "Will you not take a coat? You may catch a cold."

That was not likely -- she was quite warm. Her hot cheeks were evidence of that. She went to Louisa nevertheless. "Have they finished?" She did not know how long she had been outside.

"No, not yet. What has been resolved?"

"Nothing. Do you think I could call him Henry?" Sophie was engrossed in her own thoughts.

"I think he may allow you that liberty and more," Louisa said in amusement. "I heard from Frederick that you told him you had to be married to Henry."

"He wrote to his family that he had taken my hand -- as opposed to asking for it, you see."

"Taken your hand! If that is the state of affairs I am sure you can address him as Henry. Will you not come back inside to tell me more?" Louisa held out her arm. She wished to hear more about this surprising turn of events. If she had had to make a guess as to who would write first, she would have guessed that to be Sophie.

Sophie did not move. "This is all frightfully distressing. Did I do the right thing? I barely know what I am doing. I seem to be engaged."

At long last Louisa simply pulled Sophie inside. "Yes, you seem to be engaged, but you seemed to have laid quite a foundation on your walks, so I cannot really believe you do not know what you are doing or that you are distressed. You must like the man and you must be excited."

"He is a very good man," Sophie mused.

Louisa closed the door, glad for this progress. "He is."

"Did you think that of Frederick before you married him?"

"I did."

"Did Frederick kiss your hand?"

The question took Louisa a little by surprise. "Frederick kissed...well, my hand too."

Sophie had not missed that slight hesitation. "But apart from your hand?" There was more.

"You should not be asking," Louisa said perfunctorily.

"You should not have told me in that case. Now I shall be imagining all kinds of bad things. Tell me!"

Louisa hesitated and then thought it could not do much harm. If anything, it might prompt her friend to understand the current state of affairs a little better. "The lady I was living with was a very pious woman. She would often take me to the church where she would pray. Sometimes I grew bored and walked around the church and I met the new parson, who was, as you know, an amiable and handsome young gentleman."

"Do not tell me he drew you behind a pillar to kiss you."

Louisa decided she might as well complete her confession. "Not at our first meeting. Later he did." She looked away dreamily as she remembered the occasion.

Sophie gasped. She seemed to have a rare talent for saying something wild and hitting upon the truth. She had managed the same with regard to Lord Allingham's selling his fiancées' virtues for bottles of wine. "And did you let him?"

"Or did he let me?" She was amused at her friend's reaction.

Sophie gasped again as she tried to imagine Louisa drawing Frederick behind a pillar. She imagined herself doing the same to Henry. He would probably not object, but then what? "And then what?" She wished to know how such things went if they happened with mutual consent. She only knew about pushing and kicking.

"Marriage," Louisa summarised a few months.

"But your virtue? It was not compromised by being kissed by the parson behind a pillar in the church?" She realised that was a stupid question. Where else would Frederick have had the opportunity to speak to Louisa in private? Kisses did not have to do much with virtue, or perhaps her own had been regained by kicking and scratching her attackers in painful places.

"If one has to be kissed behind the pillar in church it had better be by the parson," Louisa countered. "As one will instantly have the opportunity to ask him about one's virtue and decency."

Sophie was fascinated. "And what did he say?" Somehow she could not imagine Frederick lecturing Louisa about indecent actions if he had been a participant in them himself.

The answer was solemn. "He said my virtue was in good hands and that it would always be."

"What did you do then?"

"I stopped worrying and followed my heart." Louisa shrugged with a smile.

Louisa looked at the pensive Sophie. "Is something the matter?" She hoped her friend was not revising her opinion of her now.

She wrung her hands. "I am wondering what they are doing. What if he cannot handle her properly?"

Louisa felt more confident about Henry's abilities. "What do you think could possibly happen? At this moment? He has already informed your relatives that he will marry you. There would not be much they could do to prevent that anyway. The worst that could happen right now is for Lady Maye to become very angry -- or sad."

"Sad!" Sophie could not believe it. "What if she convinces him not to marry me?"

That seemed very unlikely to Louisa, because Henry was rather determined to marry Sophie, she would say. Sophie did not seem aware of that, if she thought he could still be swayed. "She will not."

"What if he needs me?"

"He needs you later."

"Oh, my marital duties?" Sophie asked, undecided between sarcasm and disgust. She was glad to have escaped them the first time and hoped Louisa was not going to give her a lecture on how she was supposed to serve her husband dutifully.

"Oh, but those are fun," Louisa said with a bright look, to make sure she would give an impression that was the complete opposite of the one Sophie had undoubtedly been given.

Sophie stared. "Fun?"

"Mmm," said Louisa and turned away to arrange a curtain properly. If she appeared reluctant to discuss this, Sophie would most certainly question her and it would not be her fault at all that this subject was discussed.

"Would you care to explain that to me?"

"It depends on your husband, I daresay, but I have a fun husband. Do you think Henry will be a fun husband?"

Sophie wished he would be, but she could still not shake off her fear that he might disappoint her. "I do not know what a fun husband will do."

"Well, for instance if you tell him to take his coat off, he will ask for something in return," Louisa said, referring to the time that Henry had brought Sophie back without his coat on. She had to use examples Sophie could relate to.

Sophie looked alarmed. "Is that similar to his asking me to take off my bonnet when I asked him for permission to paint on his land?"

Louisa snorted. She had not expected her comment to be close to any truth at all. It was so very amusing that a similar thing had in fact happened. "Oh my! The undressing has started already!"

"It was not undressing!" It was only her bonnet.

"Your bonnet, his coat ... but next time it will be your coat, then your gown ... you are but a few garments away from what you consider a duty. It will creep up on you if you are not careful."

Sophie did not see how these things were related. "But one is a game and the other..."

"...is not such a deadly serious matter as you perhaps think it is. I cannot pretend not to know anything about it, because of course I do. Did you not say Sir Oswald died on the threshold?" In that case Sophie had to bow to her superior knowledge.

"That was a laughing matter, to be sure," Sophie said sarcastically. She did not want to be reminded of that.

Louisa ignored that tone. "Your only duty is to tell Henry what you are feeling. I am sure he will react accordingly and if he does not, you tell him again."

"And then it will be ... fun?" After being reminded of such bad things just now she had trouble imagining any similar occurrence could be fun.

Louisa was too honest to lie. She would not promise any fun -- yet. "A happy day deserves a happy night, do you not agree? Your chances of that improve vastly if you convince Henry of the same and if you listen to me. I know more than you and Henry combined. How I wished I had such a friend available when I got married! I had no idea there was another way."

"What is the other way?"

"Do you remember Bess?" Perhaps Bess would be a better example than a woman who had been married for two years.

"I do. It is the girl who is wishing she will not have a child before her house is built." Sophie wondered how this was connected to anything. "Henry should advise them to stay out of haystacks instead of offering them money."

Louisa sighed. "You ought to ask Bess how she ended up in that situation. She would tell you there was no fear, no pain, no tears, no taking advantage, only a similar undressing game that was too enjoyable to end."

Part 24

"My mother has gone back to the Hall," Henry announced. He found the two ladies somewhere in the back of the house. He wondered if they had seen his mother leave, but they seemed too caught up in their conversation. "Apologising is not in her nature."

"We must elope," Sophie said urgently. She clasped her hands behind her back so she would not shake him by the arms. It would not do to touch him. Louisa's story had alerted her to the fact that she was in some danger if she continued on that road. It might be too enjoyable to end indeed. A very quick marriage was required.

"Elope?" He did not see why that was necessary.

"I do not trust her. We should be married before she can act. We must elope." Thank goodness she was not lying when she gave only one of two reasons.

Henry suspected that Sophie did not trust that he could have persuaded his mother to stay out of his life. However, there was no need to hurry for his mother's sake. He had taken care of that. "No."

"Henry!" She had never expected that the first time she would use his name it would be in this manner.

"I shall not elope with you." He wondered how she would handle such a firm opinion. He thought it was quicker and easier to get a licence than to go to Scotland. He would not elope further than to Frederick's church.

"Why not?" Sophie looked at him in despair. His mother must have succeeded in dissuading him. She looked alternately angry and disappointed, thinking he had seemed to care enough for her to stand firm.

"If there were any point in doing it, I would, but there is not."

"Did she manage to dissuade you?" she asked with infinite sadness. "Were you so weak? Leave us, Louisa. I shall change his mind right back to where it was before his mother interfered! I now know how."

"Sophie," Louisa said warningly, fearing Sophie would either undress Henry or herself. "I would not approve."

"But Henry would." Her future was at stake.

Henry had no idea of what they were talking. "Sophie, some people undoubtedly find it so exciting to be doing something scandalous that they are willing to put up with the discomfort of spending several days in a carriage, but you still have to take the same journey back. Do not forget that." The journey back would be frustrating because of its length. Everyone would want to be home again soon, especially people whose primary objective was to marry fast and not in secret.

She looked surprised that he seemed to have a sensible opinion on the matter and that he was not simply following his mother's orders. It confused her. "Where is my devoted servant?"

"He is standing before you, but I shall not elope. I cannot devote myself to you locked up in a carriage." He saw Louisa look very pleased at his answer, but he had really aimed for pleasure in Sophie. Unfortunately Sophie was still bent on misunderstanding him.

"I understand you, Henry," said Louisa. "But Sophie does not. Do you think it safe if I left you two alone?"

"It gives me such pain to think you are so easily swayed!" Sophie said when Louisa had left them by themselves. "Just when I..."

"Just when you what?" he asked.

"Nothing." She could not yet say she wanted to marry him for another reason than the ones that had previously been mentioned. "How could you be so easily swayed?" she said with a half wail. "I want to respect you."

"Who says I was swayed?" Henry admitted to being more amused by the misunderstanding than was kind, but he should end it soon. It was rather baffling that she should be fearing to lose her respect for him when he was putting his foot down.

"You do not want to elope with me."

That did not mean a thing, because there was something he had not yet voiced. "But I may still want to marry you."

That surprised her and she frowned. "But do you not see the danger in waiting?"

"What is the danger in waiting?" he asked curiously. He was not thinking of waiting at all. Procuring a licence would be the fastest method of all. There was no danger in anything. Surely she could survive two or three days without being married?

She foresaw it might take several months. "I would end up ruined and with child and --"

Henry mused that Sophie's thoughts were taking another surprisingly scandalous turn. While he had first thought she knew far too much about these things, gradually he had come to believe her knowledge was to some extent limited -- the effect of love was something she could not at all imagine. In that regard he at least had the benefit of being the landlord of some very frank tenants, which perhaps coloured his knowledge in another manner. "You would only be ruined if you were not with child by me."

He had spoken with such calm conviction that she stared at him. If she came to be with child by him she would not be ruined? "Only if..." If it was by someone else?

"But I shall not allow that to happen."

Sophie opened her eyes even wider at this remark. He would not allow it. He sounded very determined to prevent it too. "Will you change after we are married? Will you expect me to be biddable?"

"I cannot imagine what I should want to bid you to do," Henry answered politely. He did not think he would change, but she might have to adjust her opinion a bit. That was not going to be a painful adjustment at all.

"That is no answer. You may yet think of something. You may yet issue an order."

"Correction: I bid you to go along with my plan. Trust your betrothed, Sophie. Occasionally he has better ideas than you." His eyes twinkled. "Trust me. I trust your wisdom too."

Her heart softened. "Well, tell me what your plan is if you do not want to elope, but you want to marry me regardless! May the best idea win."

He smiled at her. "If I go away to get a licence I shall be back before you will even think of missing me, thus we can be married in two or three days from now, which is sooner than we would reach the Scottish border!" He trusted her to see the sense in that.

"Oh." She thought about that. It did indeed sound like a better idea than eloping. "But we will most definitely be married soon?"

"If that is what you wish."

"Louisa implied I would find myself with child if I did not marry soon, but you do not seem to care about that at all," she commented.

"Not at all," Henry reassured her. "Since I had planned to ride off for the licence very shortly -- and please forgive me for being this frank -- but try as I might, I see no opportunity to get you pregnant between now and my departure, not here."

Sophie blushed deeply. "That is very frank indeed. If my mother heard that, she would not give her consent."

"I would tell your mother -- but perhaps you would be shocked to hear it," Henry said with an annoyed frown. "It would amount to my not caring for her consent and to my not having a high opinion of her understanding. I must be off now to get my horse ready, but I shall ride by to say goodbye later. Do not leave the house."

Part 25

Henry was surprised to see Frederick accompany him to Allingham Hall.

"Louisa wants me to apologise for her talk with Sophie," Frederick said reluctantly. "Apparently she tried to tell Sophie something so your wedding night would not end in tears, but she thinks she did not succeed properly."

"I had not planned to cry, Frederick," Henry said quietly, but knowing full well what his friend meant.

"You know I meant Sophie."

"Sophie will not cry either." The response was curt. He wondered why Louisa feared otherwise. Obviously she meant well and she would not raise the issue if nobody ever cried, but Henry had some trouble imagining that somebody would cry in his presence. He would be shocked and he would never forgive himself. Therefore it would not happen.

Frederick was confused for a moment. "But Louisa..."

"There is no need for us to discuss this. Neither of us have any desire to do so."

"Thank you," Frederick said gladly. He had only been sent by his wife. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, I am certain." He thought he knew how he could make Sophie love him and he would do exactly that. Making her cry was not part of it.

"He would not speak to me about it," Frederick reported to Louisa when he returned home. He knew she would question him if he did not say anything. "That might please you. Titled gentlemen do not easily admit to being ignorant. Where is Sophie? She has not left the house, I hope? Henry sent me back to make sure she did not."

Louisa raised her eyebrows. "Ignorant? Not wanting to speak about something means admitting ignorance?"

"Well, I would use the excuse too. Gentlemen do not like to admit their weaknesses."

"But..."

"She is the once married one. She will tell him. Where is she?"

Louisa gave up, whatever her private opinion on gentlemen and their excuses really was. "She is writing notes for her servants so Henry can take them. I am rather tired and will lie down. Will you say goodbye to him from me?"

"Of course. Will you be comfortable on your own?" he asked solicitously. If she needed anything, he would be glad to provide it.

She grinned at him. "But Sophie will not go walking when Henry is away. She might need company."

Henry returned rather quickly. He had not wasted any time in packing and getting his horse ready. "I told you not to leave the house," he teased when Sophie came out. He was happy at the eagerness she was displaying.

"But Louisa went upstairs to lie down and she cannot see anything otherwise," she said archly, implying that Louisa was behind her window spying on them. "She is interested in my behaviour. I must show her she has no cause for concern. I apologise for being foolish and misunderstanding you with regard to eloping."

"I was teasing a bit." He glanced up and waved at all of the windows. He had never thought Sophie's behaviour could give anyone a cause for concern.

"Do you see her?" she asked. Perhaps he was waving at nothing, although Frederick must be somewhere in the house as well and had to be keeping an eye out to prevent his friend from riding off into the distance with his cousin. She wondered if it was comfortable, being taken away on a horse.

"No. Maybe she is also kneeling and hiding behind plants. But perhaps her room is at the back. Frederick's is. I do not know what they -- I have not been upstairs since he married."

"Her room is indeed at the back, which is how she saw you throw me over the fence. Mine is at the front."

He responded in a patient and indulgent tone. "I did not throw you over the fence. I would not have managed that without foreseeable damage to my person."

Sophie's eyes widened as she feigned indignation. "My Lord! What would you suppose me to have done to you?"

He took her hand and ran a finger along her nails. "These nails are dangerous. I beg you to cut them after we are married." She might accidentally scratch him.

There was too much for Sophie to handle at once -- both words and actions. She reacted to his words first, since he was still holding her hand. "Are you suggesting I would have jumped back over the fence to chase you, if you had thrown me?"

"At the risk of offending you, I must say you are too heavy to throw. But yes, I do not think it likely that you would have suffered any abuse passively."

"But if you suppose I could get over the fence on my own, why did you help me?"

"One, because an angry lady has more strength and fewer manners than a normal one. Two, because I might have enjoyed lifting you." A gentleman liking a lady also had more strength and fewer manners, he mused.

"Oh." She had enjoyed being lifted, but perhaps she should not comment on it any further, or he would ask her if she had enjoyed it too. "And my nails? Why do you beg me to cut them?"

"Because if you take my hand to kiss it, it might get all sorts of red dents in it. Who knows, it might even bleed if you dug deep enough."

She giggled a little uncertainly. "Take your hand to kiss it?" Such an action would never have occurred to her. "But that is for gentlemen to do to ladies!" She had never heard of the reverse, but now that he mentioned it, it might not be such a strange thing at all. Why should it be a gentleman's prerogative?

"Says who? Do you think I would object if you did it?"

"I do not think you would object if I did anything."

"That is well observed. You may indeed do anything to me, as long as it does not hurt me." He pressed the palm of his hand against her nails again. It would be painful to come into contact with this by accident.

"Anything?" Her voice rose in a hopeful inquiry. She thought of Louisa's undressing game. It seemed less implausible now, although she should not be considering it as one of her options. She should also not speak with such hope.

"Anything. But tell me, do you prefer this --" He caressed her hand with his fingertips. "Or this?" He trailed over it with his nails. He knew what he preferred.

"The first," she admitted with a blush. He would have his way -- she would cut her nails.

"Does it not follow that I would too?"

"You have a point," she said, trying it out boldly. It was difficult to let go of his hand once she had started, because she liked having something to hold. "It is rather nice to do as well. You like it, do you not?" she asked anxiously, not wanting to be foolish.

He grinned. "I suspected that I might, so I set you up -- a bit. But if I do not go," he said reluctantly after a minute, "we shall never be married. Can you continue when I get back?"

"I am sure I could, but ... er..." Sophie screwed up her face when she thought of their changing situation.

"Yes?"

"Would we not be married then? So we would not be standing like this to say goodbye. When --"

"Thank you firstly." He raised her hand and placed a kiss on it, lingering because he felt a sad fear within. He could not keep himself from voicing it. "But do you do this deliberately or do you really not feel anything for me? I cannot ride away fearing that you do not care and that all you feel is a mild excitement at doing things you have never done before. Or do you simply have no imagination? Do you not wonder what would have happened if I had lifted you up and not put you down? Things like that? Why do you assume we would not be doing this because we would not be saying goodbye? I am not doing this because I am saying goodbye, but because I like it. If you like it, we can very well do it for that reason alone."

Sophie had looked increasingly alarmed at his speech. He had always appeared so calm. Was he vexed with her? There was no need. "Er..."

"You cannot be living without feelings. Why can you not imagine acting upon them?" he asked a little sadly.

Her stomach contracted at the idea she was somehow disappointing him. "Er...I have feelings. I have an imagination. I do not know what you want me to imagine."

He regretted his words upon seeing her unhappy expression. He could not force her to feel or do anything and perhaps he had spoken in selfish haste. "Perhaps I am being selfish and simply afraid of leaving you. All I want you to do is...well...that you do not dismiss any ideas because you think they are improper. If you care for me, they will not be." He gestured at the house. "Who cares what they think of it?"

Sophie cast down her eyes. She wondered if she had dismissed any ideas so far. "Do not fear. You will soon know. I wondered how I could get you to kiss my hand again, but I did not think I could say so."

"Asking will work." He took her hand in both of his. "You can say anything to me. You have to." Even he doubted at times.

She glanced up to smile. "But you must do it properly and not too quickly and you must look me in the eye."

Henry looked intrigued. "Demanding, are you? I think you are lucky that I quite like obliging you. Show me how you want it done."

Sophie repeated the gesture to the best of her abilities.

Part 26

Sophie pressed a letter into Henry's hand. "I have written a letter of recommendation, saying I grant you access to my private apartments to get my marriage certificate and my deceased husband's death certificate, which I think you will need before you can marry me. I have furthermore written down where you can find them."

He pocketed the letter. He had not even thought about those things yet and he looked at his betrothed in admiration.

She showed him another note. "This is for my maid. She should have returned from her own family visit. The letter contains instructions about packing and sending my belongings to your house. If you do not mind?"

How could he mind? He was marrying her and naturally he expected her to bring all of her belongings. "Actually, I insist that you bring all your possessions. Do you know how much it costs to buy everything new?"

"Quite a lot, I imagine. You would prefer to invest it in worthier matters," she deduced. Something to do with his estate, she supposed.

"Well," he said reflectively, wondering what she thought of his opinion. "There are not many people whose livelihood depends on whether your wardrobe is new and fashionable."

"What a shock!" she mocked. "I have a third letter. It is for you. You may read it this evening or tomorrow evening. Or both evenings."

Her smile made him curious. "Not now?"

She shook her head. "Would you please not give the wrong letter to my servants? They would perhaps find it odd."

Henry gave his most sincere promise that he would keep it solely to himself. He mounted his horse and prepared to ride off. He would be able to read her message sooner if he did. "I must go. I shall come here as soon as I am back." He waited when he saw Frederick come out of the house. "Did you see me wave?" Perhaps Frederick had come with regard to the hand kissing, which had of course taken place in full view of an empty road.

"Wave?" Frederick asked innocently. "I came to say goodbye, from Louisa as well. Unfortunately she cannot be here in person."

Henry waved at the upstairs windows. If one had been spying, both might have.

"She is on the other side of the house," said Frederick.

"That is what you think. But I must go now. I will see you in about two days."

Sophie sat by the window when Frederick went upstairs to check on Louisa. It had not yet crossed her mind to inquire what was the matter, but she sat looking at the road absentmindedly as if there was a chance that Henry might have forgotten something.

She reviewed their interactions. If she had not been so eager to save him, she might have noticed that he was not indifferent towards her and that it was not an unreasonable wish on his side that she had a similar regard for him. It was comforting to find that he cared about her and she supposed it would feel equally comforting to him.

Perhaps he should wonder why she had wanted to save him, she mused. She had not known why when it happened, although it must have had something to do with his eyes, his goodness and his honesty. It had happened very quickly.

If he read the letter he might know more, though. She had taken care to write something very nice.

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