CHAPTER 11
The door to Chatham’s study was open, but once Gabe stepped over the threshold into the duke’s domain, the man’s butler closed the door quite firmly behind him. Chatham commanded the room behind his ducal desk and Beckbury stood off to the side, his arms folded across his chest in a most resolute manner.
“Beckbury says you’ve shown an interest in my granddaughter,” the duke began, his dark eyes raking across Gabe as though looking for anything to recommend him or perhaps the opposite of that.
Gabe heaved a sigh. “I’m certain he also told you he rejected my suit.”
The duke flicked a glance toward the viscount and said, “I do not always agree with my son-in-law, but I have never had a reason to doubt that he has my granddaughters’ best interest at heart.”
What was Gabe supposed to say to that? “I’m certain he does.”
“And he found you lacking,” Chatham cut to the chase.
Finding Gabe lacking was a generous way to put it. But had Beckbury told the duke more than that? Had he told him all of it? The man had vowed that he would not, not if Gabe left Hampton Hall and never looked back. But now that Gabe had returned to England, had the viscount changed his mind about that? “If he’d found me acceptable, Sophia would have been my wife the last four years.”
“And following the drum all across the godforsaken continent?” the duke grumbled. “Hardly the best sort of life for a girl of her breeding.”
Many officers had their wives with them, and many with pedigrees that rivaled Sophie’s. But none of that was neither here nor there as Gabe’s offer of marriage had been soundly rejected. “I have not returned to England to ask for Sophia’s hand.”
“A wise decision as I understand it would be considered a step up for your family to even be considered bad ton. You are hardly an acceptable choice.”
Gabe’s gaze shifted to Beckbury. Had the man really told Chatham all of it? If so, the earldom Gabe was trying desperately to salvage would be nonexistent.
“Northwold is even now, in an asylum,” Beckbury added. “A syphilitic madman, I understand.”
Gabe’s mouth fell open in surprise. No one knew that. Clayton’s condition had been kept secret by Mr. Hill, Dr. Peat, and all of the caretakers at Rosewood. “I beg your pardon?”
But Beckbury shook his head. “Do you honestly think I wouldn’t keep myself apprised of you and your family?”
But why would he have done so? It was on the tip of Gabe’s tongue to beg the viscount for mercy. Clayton was not in any sort of position to ask for himself, and Gabe did not want to see what reputation his brother had once enjoyed dragged through the mud anymore than it already had been. But begging Beckbury for anything went against everything in Gabe’s blood. The man had kept Sophie from him, he’d been the one to tell Gabe of his unfortunate family legacy, and he’d—
But why had he kept himself appraised of Gabe’s family? The question echoed in his ears once more. Beckbury had sent Gabe packing. He’d rejected his offer. So why would he have any interest in keeping the Prideaux family in his sights at all, unless…
Escaping Mama had proved more difficult than Sophie would have thought. She had to practically hop on one leg as she begged to find the privy before Mama finally relented. Just as soon as she’d exited the drawing room, Sophie lifted the edge of her skirts and bolted toward her grandfather’s study, terrified the entire way that she’d missed the most important parts of the conversation she most definitely needed to hear.
“Do you really think I wouldn’t keep myself appraised of your family?” Papa’s voice filtered from the room and Sophie scowled. Goodness, what had she missed?
“And why would you do that?” Gabe asked, his deep voice ringing out, strong and clear.
Sophie stopped at the door and cupped her hands against the wood to hear the others better.
“Even after you rejected me, were you worried that Sophie still loved me, that I still loved her? That you weren’t confident that in turning me away you could make her heart turn from me just as easily? Better to keep a supply of information at the ready in case it was necessary to defame me?”
Gabe loved her! He truly had! But Papa had turned him away? When had he done so? Why would he have done so?
“I do not need a supply of information,” Papa snapped. “And we both know it.”
“There’s no such thing as love,” Grandfather added, his tone sharp and stinging like it often was. “It’s a made up notion poets invented to justify their worthless existence.”
He was such a heartless old man. It was a wonder her grandmother had managed to live with him as long as she had.
“Marriages are not built on love,” her grandfather continued, “but on power and connections. You have neither. You are not worthy of my granddaughter. And you will do nothing for my heir in that regard either. I must insist you keep your distance from both Sophia and Chase going forward.”
Sophie’s mouth fell open. They couldn’t do such a thing. She would talk to Papa, herself. He always listened to her. Talking to Grandfather wouldn’t do any good at all. And it would be best not to incur his wrath, at least not until Hellsburg was safely on his way back to Prussia or he might decide Sophie should go with her horrid cousin.
“My position on you and your unfortunate family has not and never will waver,” Papa added, breaking Sophie from her reverie.
Gabe’s unfortunate family? What was wrong with the Prideauxs?
“Fortunately for you, Sophia has made it quite clear that she does not regard me as she once did,” Gabe said. “But as for Winslett, we have been friends for a decade. I don’t imagine even a dictate from Your Grace will change that fact.”
“Insolent,” Grandfather complained. “Just as you said, Beckbury.”
Why would Papa say something like that? Gabe was completely in the right to defend himself against such a ridiculous dictate.
“You will leave at once. You are not welcome at Chatham House.”
Goodness! The last thing Sophie needed was to be caught eavesdropping on this conversation. She pushed away from the door and rushed back toward the drawing room as fast as she could, her heart pounding all the way.
As soon as she rejoined the assembled group in the drawing room, Charlotte caught Sophie’s gaze, a questioning look in her sister’s depths; but Sophie shook her head and turned her attention to Chase and Lord Kelling who seemed to be in some deep conversation. She made a direct path toward the two of them. “Chase,” she said, hating that she sounded slightly out of breath after her mad dash. “A word, if you don’t mind.”
Chase and Kelling exchanged a glance, but then her cousin offered her his arm, and Sophie practically dragged him to the far corner of the drawing room away from any listening ears. “Did you know Gabe offered for me?”
He had known, she could see it written across his face. “You’re not listening at doors again, are you?”
Sophie smacked his chest. Obnoxious man. He’d known how her heart had broken all those years ago. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
But Chase shook his head. “It wouldn’t have done any good, and none of it is any of my concern, anyway, Sophie. You’re my cousin and I love you. He’s my friend. I—”
“Yes, well, be prepared for Grandfather to demand that you end your friendship with him.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her cousin frowned.
“Is Gabriel staying with you? I—”
Chase shook his head again. “He’s been at Weybourne House. But he leaves for Cumberland in the morning.”
“Cumberland?” What in the world was in Cumberland?
“Dinner will be getting cold,” Grandfather announced from the threshold. Papa was behind him, but Gabe was nowhere to be found.
Sophie suffered through dinner. She had no idea what she ate, if anything. She certainly did not have an appetite. She briefly noted that Grandfather made an announcement regarding Chase moving into Chatham House. Anyone seeking an audience with Grandfather, should also expect Chase’s presence as he was now in the process of learning the ins and outs of the running the dukedom. But Sophie couldn’t focus on any of that. Gabe had offered for her. Papa had rejected him for some reason. And Gabe was leaving for Cumberland in the morning. How could she focus on anything else?
The entire ride to Beckbury House, Sophie stared at her father across the coach. Gabe had offered for her hand, but Papa had refused him. And she’d never known it. Why would Papa refuse Gabe? And why wouldn’t he have told Sophie about any of it?
She wasn’t certain what she was searching for in Papa’s visage, but she wasn’t finding it. He seemed like he always had. There was absolutely no indication that he had engaged in any sort of conversation with Grandfather and Gabe that evening, none at all. If she hadn’t known for a fact that he’d done so, she’d have never suspected otherwise. But she did know better now, and the whys kept circling her mind with no answer in sight.
Once they arrived home, Sophie held back as her sisters and Prissa made their way to their bedchambers. She couldn’t follow them though, she’d never get to sleep, not one wink until Papa told her the truth about everything. She waited until Mama turned in, and then she made her way to her father’s study.
She knocked once, waited for him to bid her entrance, then made her way inside Papa’s domain. He looked older than he had earlier in the day. Perhaps it was the way the lamplight reflected off him or perhaps it was his conversation with Grandfather and Gabe that was wearing on his mind.
“You should be in bed, Sophie,” he said as he poured himself a drink from the sideboard.
It was definitely the conversation with Grandfather and Gabe that was wearing on his mind. Papa rarely imbibed.
Sophie took a deep breath and stepped further into his study. “What did Grandfather want with you this evening?”
Papa scoffed. “To threaten me within an inch of my life should I let any harm come to Priscilla while she’s here. I assured him, she would be well cared for.”
“Oh.” That made sense, Sophie supposed. And perhaps that had been why Grandfather had summoned Papa originally, but they certainly discussed more than Prissa’s wellbeing. “Then what did he want with Major Prideaux? He sent for him not long after you left, and then the major was not at dinner.”
Papa’s brow furrowed and then he tossed back a healthy swallow of his drink. “It’s late, Sophie. You should go to your chambers.”
Did he truly think he was going to dismiss her so easily? Sophie shook her head and made her way to her father’s side. “What aren’t you telling me, Papa? Something about Major Prideaux?”
“Sophie,” he complained, sounding rather tired.
“Papa, I know you’re keeping something from me.”
“You know that, do you?” he asked.
“I know Gabriel Prideaux offered for me,” she continued even after her father’s eyes widened in surprise. “I know you refused him. And I think I have a right to know why you wouldn’t tell—”
“Sophia, you have no rights,” he snapped.
Stunned, Sophie’s mouth fell open. Papa never spoke to her like that. He used that tone with Mama often, but never with her. And the change in his demeanor startled her enough that she took a step away from him. “Papa?”
Her father’s jaw hardened and he narrowed his eyes on her. “Now I have asked you twice to retire to your chambers. Do not make me have to ask a third time.”
Over the years, Sophie had witnessed more than one argument between her parents, but she never thought she’d be on the receiving end of Papa’s anger. If she pressed her case any further, she was suddenly unsure what he might do. So she turned on her heel and bolted from his study all the way to her bedchamber, her heart aching the whole way.
She rushed into her room, closed the door behind her, and sagged against it, not surprised in the least to discover Charlotte was sitting in the middle of Sophie’s four-poster, apparently awaiting her return.
Her sister’s light eyes were wide in question. “Well…?” Charlotte prodded. “What did you find out?”
Absolutely nothing of any merit. But when Sophie opened her mouth to respond, a sob escaped her instead, a sob she hadn’t even known she was keeping in.
Charlotte quickly slid from the bed, raced across the Aubusson rug, and wrapped her arms around Sophie. “Oh, no!” her sister soothed. “Oh, Sophie! Don’t cry. It’ll be fine, whatever it is, it’ll be fine.”
But it wouldn’t be fine. Papa had raised his voice with her, which he had never done even once in her life. He was keeping all sorts of things a secret, apparently. And Gabe…Gabe was leaving for Cumberland in the morning. That last thought made Sophie sob even harder.
She had loved Gabe so much, with all her heart and soul. She’d been a blubbering mess when he’d left all those years ago. Had he really not wanted to leave her behind? Had he wanted her to come with him? Or had he wanted to stay with her? She had no idea what to think or what to believe. But she had to know what happened, what had really happened. And she couldn’t help but wonder, or hope really, that Gabe might still care for her just as he’d asked her that evening if she still cared for him.
There had to be a way to learn the truth. If Papa wouldn’t tell her, then Gabe…
Gabe!
An idea started to swirl around the edges of Sophie’s reckless mind. She still had their pageboy’s livery, didn’t she? She did, and it was just the thing she needed to aid her in her quest.
She hiccuped, trying to calm herself enough so she could talk to her sister. After all, she was going to need Charlotte’s help.
“D-do y-you,” she heaved, clutching onto Charlotte’s arms and calming herself further. “Do you know where Weybourne House is?”