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‘What are you playing at?’ Adam murmured in Sophie’s ear, startling her; she hadn’t realised he was so close.
‘“Playing at”, my lord?’ she said sweetly. ‘What can you mean?’
‘You know very well what I mean. You manoeuvred Miss Malthouse to sit beside me at supper; it was so obvious I wondered others did not notice it.’
‘Now, how could I, a mere slip of a girl, manoeuvre you, of all people? And why would I?’
‘I do not know, but it was unkind of you. I had to endure her idle chatter throughout supper, and afterwards while we walked. Listening to her is exhausting. I am persuaded you must have some motive.’
‘My lord, I have been accused of being a hoyden and a flirt, and Cassie is convinced that I am trying to put her out with you. I had to make her see otherwise.’
‘And you wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort, of course?’
‘Certainly not. I should be wasting my time, would I not? Have you not declared you are not looking for a second wife?’
‘Indeed I have.’
‘And I am not prepared to be one, so let us be friends.’
He laughed. ‘Oh, Sophie, if anyone could make me change my mind it would be you.’
Born in Singapore, MARY NICHOLS came to England when she was three, and has spent most of her life in different parts of East Anglia. She has been a radiographer, a school secretary, an information officer and an industrial editor, as well as a writer of some sixty novels and a biography. She has three grown-up children, four grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.
The Husband
Season
Mary Nichols
The Husband Season features characters that also appear in Mary Nichols’s previous novel. If you enjoy this book, make sure you don’t miss Jane Cavenhurst’s story in Scandal at Greystone Manor.
Contents
1819
Miss Sophie Cavenhurst was not renowned for her patience or tact. Nor, come to that, for her common sense. This lack was balanced by a comely face and figure, a soft heart and a sunny disposition. Young gentlemen frequently proposed and were as frequently turned down. ‘You see,’ she would say with a smile meant to soften the blow, ‘it just would not do.’ Which, according to her fond papa, showed she had more sense than she was generally credited with.
The trouble was that Sophie measured all prospective husbands against the husbands of her two older sisters, and her swains had always been found wanting. Mark, Lord Wyndham, who was Jane’s husband, was gentle and kind and dependable; Isabel’s husband, the recently knighted Sir Andrew Ashton, was dashing and exciting and was always taking Isabel off to foreign climes to have adventures. They were both wealthy, though their wealth came to them in very different ways: Mark’s through inheritance, Drew’s through international trade. None of the suitors who had asked for her hand in marriage came anywhere near them.
One thing she did not want was a scapegrace like her brother, though she loved him dearly. It had taken a really bad shock and a spell in India for him to come to his senses. To give him his due he had saved the family bacon when it looked as though they would lose everything, including their home, and for that she would forgive him almost anything, even the way he teased her.
‘Sophie, you have exhausted all the eligibles in the neighbourhood,’ he told her one day in April. ‘You are fast earning a reputation for being hard to please.’
‘What is wrong with that? Marriage is a big decision. I don’t want to make a mistake like Issie very nearly did.’
‘And as a consequence will likely end up an old maid.’
‘That’s why I want a Season in London. I would meet new people there.’
‘A Season?’ he asked in surprise. ‘When did you think of
