Chapter Five
July 6, 1819
Sophia alternately battled grief and hope today. Not only was it the anniversary of her second husband’s death, but it was also the same for her sister-in-law’s passing. But putting grief aside for one moment, her heart continued to trip and tremble, not because of its weakened state, but from that fleeting kiss she’d taken from Oliver yesterday.
He’d been so dear and genuine when she’d spoken about her ailment and her future, or rather Hannah’s, and he’d understood what she’d talked about. In addition, just as she was prone to prefer a man in a military uniform, apparently a man with spectacles sent flutters into her lower belly just the same.
So, she’d kissed him.
Ordinarily, that would have been the end, and she would have been satisfied with that, but there had been such a connection, an attraction, a pull between them in that one moment she’d panicked. For the first time in her life, she’d fled from a man. It was silly, of course, but for all her talk of wishing to marry again, there were certain walls thrown around her heart. Losing two previous husbands had left scars. Did she want to open herself up to potential feeling again? To say nothing of what would become of Oliver once she perished.
For it was a certainty.
Yet…
Such things were complicated, and even more so knowing she hadn’t much time.
As she stood at the morning room windows, uncertain as to how she would spend her afternoon, she sipped a cup of tea. Both of her brothers were down below on the lawn, and from the looks of things, they were engrossed in a heated argument if their hand gestures were any indication. At one point, Gilbert pointed the head of his cane at Arthur. She frowned. What in the world could they have to fight about? Unless it was Gilbert’s penchant for secret keeping. There was something most certainly wrong in his marriage, but that was between him and his wife.
The rest of the family needed to stay out of it.
Unless Gilbert had done something scandalous when he’d been away in India that had just now circulated to Arthur’s hearing. Oh, dear, she hoped he hadn’t betrayed his marriage vows while separated from his wife.
Whatever it was, she didn’t wish to be involved. That wasn’t an efficient use of the time remaining to her. And neither was it in Arthur’s best interests, when he would marry soon. She sighed and sipped at her tea. Having brothers was trying.
A soft knock on the open door wrenched her from her thoughts. In some gratitude, she glanced that way. “What is it, Charles?”
Her nephew came into the room with an expression full of speculation. “I was told to give this to you by Mr. Mattingly.”
“Oh?” Flutters danced through her belly at the sound of the ambassador’s name. “Is all well? Is he ill?”
“I wouldn’t know, but he appeared quite well. He didn’t say what the nature of the missive was, yet he did look quite mysterious. Hannah was with him. They left the manor directly after.” Once he’d crossed the room, he held out an envelope.
How very odd. “Thank you.” When Charles didn’t exit the room, she raised an eyebrow. “Is there something else?”
“I suppose not, except…”
She frowned as she rested her teacup on the windowsill. It wasn’t like him to hedge around an issue. Arthur had taught both his children to talk about what bothered them, which was quite funny since he’d had trouble doing the same, and it had nearly cost him Juliana. “What is on your mind?” Though curiosity to know what the note contained burned through her consciousness, if her nephew needed her attention, he would have it.
“Well, I rather thought… That is to say Mr. Mattingly is a congenial sort…” Charles shifted his weight. When he clasped his hands behind his back, he put her in mind of Arthur when he’d been a young man. “The ambassador would make a decent third husband if you were of a mind, Aunt Sophia. I mean, he is here and so are you, and time grows short…” He huffed and then worry clouded his expression. “I am concerned for you.”
“Oh, you dear thing.” With her chest tight, Sophia stepped forward and briefly hugged him. “I shall think about what you’ve said, but I cannot make such a decision lightly.” Can I? With her first two husbands, due to their status in the military and the timing of their leaves, enjoying long engagements wasn’t possible. And now, she didn’t have that luxury either. But what sort of a woman would it make her if she coerced the first man she’d connected with since becoming a widow again into a hasty union? “My time might be limited but aligning myself with a man who I don’t know all that well could prove a disaster. That would be counterintuitive to the quiet life I’m supposed to be living.”
Desperate or clever? That was the question.
“I highly doubt Mr. Mattingly has even one deceptive or cruel bone in his body. It’s something to ponder.” Charles shrugged. “Hannah seems to like him well enough, and you know how difficult it is for her. Honestly, Auntie, she just wants a father.”
That was true enough, and their straits had apparently grown dire if her nephew had become attuned to them. “You are far too young to carry the weight of other’s troubles upon your shoulders.” Though what he said held merit. Like her, Hannah had found it difficult to trust others since so many people had already left her life. Perhaps having Mr. Mattingly here was fate’s way of extending a kindness they both sorely needed. “I promise to seriously consider your idea.”
“That is all I can ask.” He grinned. “Enjoy your day. I’m off to the village. A group of young people are getting up a fishing party, and I aim to be among them.”
“Behave yourself while there. Your father doesn’t need your scrapes and scandals on top of everything else he is giving attention to.”
“Aunt Sophia, you should know me better than that by now.” With a wink, Charles left the room. Seconds later, cheerful whistling echoed down the corridor.
Oh, to be young and carefree again!
Then she opened the envelope and withdrew a folded sheet of paper. Bold, confident handwriting lay scrawled in orderly lines. So easily could she see the ambassador at a desk writing missives or contracts in conjunction with his position.