The Bride In Blue. Miranda Lee
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up my misconception that he had somehow taken advantage of your youth and innocence. Please also believe me when I say I make no judgement of your actions, either with Godfrey or with me downstairs. I have nothing but admiration for the way you defended my brother just now. A man would kill to have a woman love him as you obviously loved Godfrey.’
Sophia lay there for a moment, unsure if his seemingly heartfelt words had soothed, or flustered her further. She did not associate Jonathon with apologies.
Rolling slowly over, she encountered a face so bleak her heart filled with instant remorse. She couldn’t see into his eyes for he was looking down at the floor, but the uncharacteristic droop of his head and shoulders pulled at her heartstrings.
‘I…I’m sorry too,’ she whispered. ‘I shouldn’t have hit you.’
When his head lifted and he twisted round to face her, Sophia gasped at the still stark imprint of her hand on his cheek. She had no idea she’d hit him that hard. Appalled, she reached up blindly with shocked fingers, a guilty groan escaping her lips as her shaking hand made contact with the red mark.
‘Don’t!’ he snapped, iron fingers enclosing her wrist and ramming her hand down on to the quilt, the action jerking her up into a semi-sitting position.
With the abrupt movement, her hat, which had been partially dislodged when she’d first flung herself on the bed, fell off, the large comb holding her hair up also coming adrift, sending her dark glossy waves tumbling down around her face and shoulders.
‘Oh!’ she cried.
When she tried to disengage her hand from his to push back her hair, his grip remained fast, his eyes boring into hers with such intensity that she was completely bamboozled by the whole situation. Did he think she’d been going to hit him again? Sophia couldn’t see why he should. She’d already said she was sorry for that.
So why didn’t he say something? Why did he just sit there, staring at her like that? And why, oh, why couldn’t she seem to find her own voice?
The room, which was very large and luxuriously furnished, seemed to have shrunk, Jonathon looming large over her. His face was only inches from hers, so close now that she could no longer see the blue of his eyes. They were deep dark pools into which she seemed to be drowning…drowning…
In desperation she sucked in a breath of air, but this only seemed to remind her of the way her heart was suddenly hammering in her chest. The large hand cuffing her wrist tightened, and for a brief mad moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, she found her hand being ground further down into the mattress as Jonathon pushed himself to his feet.
‘Don’t let your tender heart lead you into any more trouble, Sophia,’ he grated out, his face as harsh and humourless as ever as he glared down at her from his considerable height. ‘I deserved hitting downstairs, and I almost deserved hitting again just now. When you touch a man like that in future,’ he warned darkly, ‘make sure you’re not on a bed with him. Not all males are as saintlike as Godfrey.’
Sophia’s eyes widened, colour coming to her cheeks. So he had been tempted to kiss her.
But surely he did not think she had been deliberately provocative, or that even subconsciously she might have been inviting him to…to…
Her cheeks burnt even more fiercely at such a mortifying thought.
Jonathon spun away from the bed with a scoffing sound. ‘I was right the first time,’ he growled as he stalked across the deep gold carpet. ‘Godfrey should have been hung, drawn and quartered for taking you under his roof the way he did. I refuse to forgive his appalling lack of judgement. If he couldn’t foresee the consequences of such an action, then the man was more of a naïve, idealistic, airy-fairy fool than I always thought him to be!’
Grabbing the knob of the bedroom door, Jonathon whirled to face her one last time. ‘Hate me all you like for saying as much, Sophia, but that’s the way I see it. I loved my brother, believe it or not, but he was a dreamer who left a trail of destruction behind him. He’s left you literally holding the baby, and me in a situation no man would relish.’
Sophia scrambled off the bed, straightening her clothes and pushing back her hair with agitated hands. ‘You didn’t have to marry me!’ she cried. ‘I didn’t expect you to, but you insisted!’
‘More fool me,’ he snarled. ‘But I’m not so blind that I can’t see my own mistakes. You will have your wish, Sophia. A divorce as soon as the baby is born. I also think a house of your own is called for. Somewhere nearby, of course, where Mother can easily visit you and the child.’
But not you, she thought agitatedly. I don’t want you visiting me, you hateful man!
‘Now I suggest you go wash your face and fix your hair,’ the hateful man ordered. ‘It’s rather a mess. I will expect you to make an appearance downstairs shortly.’
‘But I don’t want——’
‘We all have to do things we don’t want to do occasionally,’ he cut in sharply. ‘If you don’t come down, everyone will look at me with accusing eyes, and I will be forced to return to bring you down myself. If you can’t do this for me, then do it for Godfrey. I’m sure he would have expected the mother of his child to conduct herself with ladylike decorum in his home, which means keeping childish tantrums to a minimum.’
With that, Jonathon politely but firmly shut the door, leaving Sophia to stare after him.
Childish tantrums?
Childish tantrums!
She would show him childish tantrums.
Her eyes darted savagely around the room, looking for something she could throw. Anything!
Her hat was the only item within arm’s reach. She scooped it up from where it lay on the pillow and launched it in the direction of the door like a frisbee. But, being a rather light hat, it fell a good deal short of its target with a highly unsatisfying plop. Marching over to where it had landed, Sophia glared momentarily down at the pathetic little wisp of nothing before she gave into another irrational burst of temper and began stomping it to death.
After a few feverish seconds, she stopped, eyes rounding with horror as she bent to pick up the poor mangled thing, the veil now ripped, the flower totally destroyed. Sophia blinked her shock as she stared at what was left of the once pretty blue hat, a sob catching in her throat.
I’ve gone mad, she thought. Quite mad.
No, you haven’t, the voice of brutal honesty inserted. You’re simply behaving very badly. Jonathon was right. Godfrey would not be proud of you today. Not at all.
Tears threatened as her thoughts filled with Godfrey…her kind, gentle, warm, wonderful Godfrey. Oh, God, how she missed him!
But not in bed, as others in this house might imagine, she thought bitterly. In hindsight, her one intimate experience with Godfrey had been an utter failure in the physical sense. How could it have been otherwise, with her a virgin and Godfrey upset and unwell?
What she missed was Godfrey’s companionship. Their long talks into the night. Their listening to music together. His just being there, his calm and collected presence always having a soothing influence on her occasional burst of restlessness.
Their relationship had been a meeting of souls long before it had finally become a meeting of bodies. Sophia had no doubt that in other circumstances the physical side would have eventually become just as satisfying. She had not allowed herself to be too disappointed at the time, brushing aside any dismay over the brief and rather painful experience actual intercourse had turned out to be. She’d told herself there would be other nights. Next time, it would not hurt so much. Next time, things would be different.
But there had been no other nights, no next time…
When Sophia snapped back to the present, she was startled to find that she was standing there in the middle of the room, twisting the already