Free Married to a Stranger by Louise Allen Page B

Atherton’s description of his recent trip to Edinburgh and there, at least, she was able to take an intelligent interest until Lady Atherton, acting as hostess, rose and led the ladies out.
    The polite inquisition that followed was what she had expected. Sophia was able to maintain her poise while engaged in the chitchat that barely disguised questions about her family and her connections. She had been betrothed very young and her father had died soon after Daniel had left for India, plunging her into mourning.
    Somehow, as she emerged from that she had never begun to mingle with Daniel’s wider family. If Will had been married it would probably have been different, but a bachelor earl kept a very different household from a married one and there were no house parties to be invited to.
    Having dissected her connections, family and background to their satisfaction the ladies moved on to her ability as a housekeeper and—more difficult to cope with—her feelings about the Chatterton brothers. It felt like being pecked by a flock of starlings. She wished she had a pencil and paper to draw them with their sharp noses, nodding plumes and avid eyes. She had resisted the urge to tuck a pad and pencil into her reticule; this was hardly the kind of party where she could creep away and sketch from the shelter of a curtain as she so often did at dull receptions.
    ‘Yes, I am sure we are doing the right thing,’ she was saying through gritted teeth in answer to the rather more direct question put by one of the elderly Misses Hibbert as the gentlemen came in to join them.
    ‘And where is Callum?’ Lady Atherton asked. ‘I want to know about this house he’s taking his bride to. Poor dear Sophia knows nothing about it.’
    ‘He has a headache,’ William said. ‘And begs to be excused.’
    Sophia doubted he had any such thing. He had simply walked away from the stifling atmosphere of rampant curiosity disguised under banal socialising. But he might have said something to her, taken his leave, she thought with a flash of resentment when Mrs Lambert shot her a pitying look. She did not like being poor, dear Sophia who must be pitied; it was hard enough holding her own in this company as it was.
    ‘The gardens are very fine here,’ Mr Masterton remarked, taking the cup of tea she offered him. He seemed less brittle and dangerous now. Or perhaps resentment at Callum’s abandonment of her made another man seem more attractive.
    ‘Yes. The new terraces overlooking the South Lawn are delightful,’ Sophia agreed.
    ‘I was forgetting you will know the Hall a lot better than I,’ he said, putting down the cup and turning to the window. ‘There is still a little light and it is intolerably stuffy in here. Perhaps you could show me what has been done?’
    It was a tempting suggestion and she was tired of being dutiful. Sophia loved the gardens, and, although she had been careful never to presume on Will’s invitation to use them as her own, she would often come and draw here when the stress of home and the debts became too much.
    ‘Yes, of course.’ She caught up her shawl from the back of the chair and went out through the door he held open for her.
    ‘How fresh the air is. The summer is coming to an end, I fear!’
    ‘You are not cold?’ He took her arm and began to stroll along the broad terrace.
    ‘Oh, no, Mr Masterton. There is hardly any breeze. Here is where the old terrace ended …’
    ‘Donald, please. We are about to be family, after all.’
    ‘Donald.’ It seemed a little forward, but she did not care to seem stand-offish. ‘The earl had this part extended so the view of the lake was improved.’
    ‘And that charming structure?’ He gestured to a small temple-like construction on the far corner of the paving. When he lowered his hand it came to rest over hers. Sophia stiffened, but he took no further liberties and she supposed she was being intolerably provincial.
    ‘A little gazebo. It is the most charming