Afternoon Tea

That had done it. Watching her, Cole saw the telltale signs of Sophie's temper as her head flew back and her right foot stomped forward a step. He was glad. Ever since speaking with old Mrs Hammond in the village that morning, his mind had been spinning. Even now, he couldn't believe what he'd heard. Maybe giving into to the rage would help. Maybe drawing breath to shout would rid his chest of the coils that had been twisting tighter and tighter, until now, looking at Sophie's sweet face, it felt like he was suffocating where he stood.

"What in the hell - that's right, I said hell - is the matter with you today? If not Bella, then what?" she snapped. "Why are you being so deuced uncivil to me?

"

Unable to stop himself, he sneered, pain and hurt and rage, all hammering at him in sickening waves. His usual deep drawl was clipped tight as he said, "Please forgive me if I have given offence. I hadn't realised that we were anything more than acquaintances."

"What do you mean, you know we're friends, I mean, I've always thought of you as my closest friend and I…" she faltered. Her hands rose to her waist, twining over themselves to clutch at delicate wrists.

"Really."

he said. "Well, my dear little friend, please then let me be the first to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials. Which of course are none of

my

concern. I'm sure you will be very happy with Roger, even though he is a brainless, chinless, snivelling mama's boy!" His voice rising to a shout, Cole fought the urge to leap at Sophie and shake her until… well, he didn't know exactly.

Until you swear to me that you won't marry Roger. I could never ask you to marry me but not him, Sophie, not bloody Roger!

Sophie's arms fell to her sides. "What?"

"What?" Cole parroted, maddened afresh to hear the news of Sophie's engagement spoken aloud.

She stared. "What are you talking about? I'm not marrying Roger. Do you mean Roger d'Argent? What an idea. He's… well, he's a brainless, chinless, snivelling mama's boy. Although I probably wouldn't put it quite like-"

Cole's scornful

ha!

had Sophie visibly reining in her temper, before she continued.

"He hasn't even asked me, that is to say, he did ask me once, three years ago -"

"Bastard!"

"

But,"

Sophie said, ignoring his interruption, "I said no. And I certainly am not marrying him now. Why the devil would you think such a thing?"

Cole's lungs flooded with air as he searched her bewildered face.

"You're not marrying him?"

"No. I'm not marrying him. Why did you think I was?" she repeated.

Cole felt dizzy as he described running into Mrs Hammond in the village that morning. The elderly school teacher had been bursting with the news that Lord D'Argent, heir to an estate some 70 miles to the south of Little Wittenham, had been seen in an exclusive London jewellers, barely six days after calling at Salisbury House. If that were not proof enough, Reverend Quincey had recently asked his housekeeper to hunt out his red velvet waistcoat which everyone knew he kept for special occasions. And reading the banns for the Earl of Hertford's only granddaughter would certainly be a special occasion.

"That's it?" asked Sophie, when he fell silent. He nodded.

Seeing her hands begin to move ominously in the direction of her hips, he hastily challenged, "If he didn't come to propose, why then was that little weasel here?"

"He called to tell me about his engagement to a Miss Lydia Edwards, one of this Season's Incomparables, I understand. And Marianne writes that her fortune is fairly incomparable too." Sophie's face had smoothed into a bland expression of blameless innocence.

Cole grunted, suspicious; he knew her too well to believe that she was telling the whole truth but he was too relieved to push. She wasn't marrying another man and a yell of satisfaction was swelling in his throat.

She's still mine.

Until a sickening thought struck him. Was she upset at Roger's news, is that why she hadn't told him of the visit? The thought that she could be grieving for the loss of that puny excuse for a man was unacceptable.

"Why didn't you tell me that he had called?" he said. "Is it because you are upset he is to marry someone else? Why did you refuse him when he offered three years ago?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "I didn't tell you because I didn't think it would interest you, it certainly didn't interest me."

"And?" he prompted, when she hesitated. "Why did you refuse him before?"