The Discarded Wife

by Camille Oster

  Chapter 29

  IN ALL, SOPHIE DIDN'T MIND Aberley's presence as much anymore. He was moody and brooding most of the time, but she was perfectly able to look past that for the most part. They weren't sniping at each other anymore, which was a vast improvement. Alfie clearly loved having him at Sommerfield, although he still didn't say how long he was staying.

  Obviously, he still made her uncomfortable whenever he walked into the room. That tension never quite let up. The disapproval still emanated off him, but she refused to let it bother her. He was simply a presence in her life. Dark and foreboding perhaps, but she was perfectly able to walk out of the room if it got too much for her. On the other hand, though, he had gone oddly quiet. Mr. Herman, who disliked silence immensely, usually did most of the talking.

  Between showers, Sophie walked out into the garden, staying close enough to the house so she wouldn't get caught out again as disastrously as she had before. Herman and Alfie were having lessons, and Aberley was in his study. What he did there, she had no idea. He seemed to spend most of his time in there.

  Drawing a deep breath, she smelled the fresh air. The air was incredibly sweet compared to London, and different scents drifted across the wind. As much as she'd fought Aberley on coming here, she had to admit that it had grown on her immensely.

  Mr. Herman was lovely, of course, but as much as she wanted to, she didn't feel anything for him other than appreciation for a friend. Obviously, there was no rush. She had all the time in the world. It wasn't as if she needed a man to take care of her. Her situation here was stable, provided Aberley didn't change his mind about anything. But she liked caring for someone and being cared for in return. Perhaps not quite as much caring as it had been with her husband toward the end where she had been a nurse more than a wife. That tenderness had still been there, and she missed it.

  She also missed the more physical aspect. Even within her marriage, she hadn't been able to explore it fully, had had to suppress those desires for so very long. And then she had been too sad and lost to feel anything for a while. Now things were settling, there were no sad, hard and urgent things she had to face. Alfie was happy, they weren't facing destitution, and even Oliver had been rescued from that state. Hopefully he learned from it this time.

  Running her hand along the plants, she felt the textures on her skin—soft, smooth, wispy grasses. Closing her eyes, she let her thoughts drift, and they didn't drift to the staid and dependable Mr Herman. They drifted to the dark and brooding.

  Opening her eyes sharply, she pushed the thoughts away. Rejected them. Why would her thoughts go there when that man had hurt her so much? He had been her knight in shining armor once, but it had all been an illusion. Someone steadfast and comfortable was her future; she was sure of it. She had been happy with Doug—even if her marriage to him had never fired the deepest recesses of her. What use were such impulses anyway?

  Turning around, she saw a man approach her and she hitched her breath, until she saw that it was Mr. Herman and instantly relaxed. He shouldn't be out here wandering this time of day.

  "Is everything fine with Alfie?" she asked.

  "Yes, yes," Herman said. There was a light in his eyes she'd never seen before. Had he come to some realization, she wondered. Was he acting on some initiative? "I came to speak to you. The most curious thing has happened." The excitement was clear in his features. She had never seen him like this.

  "Oh?"

  "This family, a very senior member of the Colonial Office has proposed I take a position with them, and they are just now traveling to Cairo."

  "Cairo? You mean in Egypt?"

  "Yes, Egypt. Can you imagine? Just out of the blue. It's a dream come true."

  Sophie blinked. He had a position, but he was clearly excited about this. A dream come true, he'd said.

  "I have to leave immediately. They are sailing at once. The person they had in mind fell ill, you understand."

  "I see."

  "I just came… to say goodbye. We were becoming such good friends, but I really cannot say no to such an opportunity. Say you understand."

  "Of course," she said with a smile that just didn't sit properly. Of course she was glad for him, but this seemed so… convenient. Such an offer should simply find him out here in Dorset. "How was it that they heard of you?"

  "I don't actually know. I just was delivered a letter before. Lord Aberley was very understanding."

  "I bet he was," she said dryly, trying to keep her smile plastered on her lips. Mr. Herman didn't actually see the thorny relationship between her and Aberley. He wasn't all that observant when it came to people.

  "I will write, of course, tell both yourself and Alfie about the wonders I will encounter."

  "Alfie would love that."

  Leaning forward, he kissed her on her cheek, which was the first and only kiss they had shared. There would be no more kisses, no development in their relationship, because Mr. Herman was sailing to the other side of the continent. "I must hurry. Lord Aberley has kindly offered me the use of his carriage. I think he understands the urgency."

  "That is very kind of him," Sophie said through gritted teeth.

  Mr. Herman positively ran to the side of the house, which was something she hadn't seen him do either. The smile melting from her face and she stood there looking back on the house. He had done this—Aberley had done this. Again impeding on whatever happiness she found in the world. Granted, she didn’t immediately feel passion for Mr. Herman, but she’d had hopes—and Aberley, being observant as he was, had known it.

  Wrapping her arms around her, she marched back to the house. As she walked through, she could see the carriage already heading down the road. He certainly didn't waste any time.

  Marching straight to the study, Sophie opened the door, finding Alfie sitting on the chair opposite the desk from Aberley. "Alfie, darling, would you go upstairs to your room. I need to have a little talk with Lord Aberley." She tried to make it sound light, but wasn't sure she was succeeding.

  "Yes, Mum," he said and left the room. Aberley wasn't looking her in the eye, instead gazing out the window, his mouth drawn. Perhaps he knew he was in for a dressing down.

  Seconds passed by so she was sure Alfie was out of earshot. "You did this," she accused. "The only friend and companion I have. Why did you feel you had to strip me of that?"

  "I did nothing of the sort."

  "So you had no part in this?"

  "I simply mentioned him to a friend who was in a bit of a pickle."

  "Alfie's tutor. Alfie liked him immensely. Are you so incensed at seeing a bit of happiness in someone else that you have to ruin it? Or is it just me who cannot have any friends?"

  "The man had a dream. I simply helped him. It is not all about you. Should I not help him make such a connection because you like having him around? Don't be so selfish."

  "Me being selfish? Can you hear yourself?" Unable to gauge what she did, she walked around the desk, ready to strike him. He obviously anticipated her and stood, clasping her wrists. "You vindictive, petty man."

  "None of this was done to hurt you. Your reaction more than shows you have ambitions for that man, but believe me he jumped at the opportunity."

  Wringing her wrist free, she slapped him, the sound echoing off the wall. Also, she couldn't believe she had just done that. He had a way of reducing her to violence—poked and prodded until she completely lost her composure.

  Stepping back, she turned away from him and marched out of the room. Again he had hurt her, had tried to strip away her happiness. Why was he such an odious man? Life here was going to be infinitely harder without Mr. Herman.

  Now it was just her and Aberley—at least until he left. No doubt he'd seen his task of inflicting pain and insult done and he would leave again. Hopefully right this minute. She wished he would go to London and never come back.

  It was going to be so lonely here without her friend. And granted, a future she had imagined had just slipped through
her fingers like sand. Aberley understood that perfectly. Odious man.

  At some point later, when she wasn't so angry, she would admit that the choice of leaving her and Alfie hadn't held Mr. Herman back for more than a second. Were there any men that could be trusted? Doug was the only one who had been strong in heart—if frail in body.

  Chapter 30

  SOPHIE'S DISPLEASURE SETTLED like a heavy blanket over the entire house. She refused to join him for supper in the evenings and they rarely congregated in the same place.

  Perhaps it had been underhanded of him to suggest Mr. Herman for the post in Cairo, but the man had taken all of seconds to determine to take the opportunity. Married men wouldn't be offered such positions. It could be, though, that Mr. Herman expected Sophie to be just as available when he returned. Clearly he didn't know Sophie well. She didn't forgive.

  The riding lessons with Sophie didn't eventuate, but Tristan spent time every day with Alfie, teaching him how to ride. Confidence wasn't something one could teach, however, and Alfie had to develop it at his own pace, but Tristan could impart all he knew about riding and horse management.

  Today they were pacing around the small enclosure, Alfie learning how to change directions. He did look adorable on the horse. It was hard to believe a person could be so small. His slim legs barely reaching down to the pony's underbelly.

  In the distance, Tristan saw a carriage approaching. They were obviously approaching the house as there was nowhere else for them to go. Who it was, he had no idea. He hadn't invited anyone. Perhaps Sophie had. It would have been nice for her to inform him if that were the case. Hopefully it wasn't her brother, coming here thinking he'd be welcome.

  As they moved closer, Tristan saw the crest and his shoulders sank. This was the last thing he needed.

  "Time to finish," he said to Alfie. "We have visitors."

  Awkwardly, Alfie scrambled off and slid down the side of the pony to dismount. By no means elegant, but he was doing it himself—even if he couldn't get on the horse on his own.

  "Perhaps you should go see your mother," he said to the boy as they handed the pony over to the stable lad.

  Alfie didn't argue and ran into the house. The boy never walked anywhere—always in a hurry, as if he would miss out by being too slow.

  With a tight smile, he waited as Minette's carriage drew up next to the main entrance.

  "Hello, darling," she said as her head popped into view.

  "Minette, what a pleasant surprise. I didn't know you were coming." In fact, she had never come before, but then he'd never really spent much time here before either.

  "You said I have a standing invitation."

  "Of course."

  "So I thought I would finally come see you."

  She was here to meet and observe Sophie. For what purpose, he wasn't really sure. On some level, this all amused Minette—probably for the sheer exasperation the situation left him feeling. That amused her too.

  "It's a lovely house," Minette said, stepping out of the carriage by taking his hand. Her dress was grey silk with pink touches. A small and formed hat pinned to her hair. She looked the part of a lady. "I can see why you're so keen on spending time here."

  A barbed jab if he'd ever heard one. "There is much to do on an estate like this. I have neglected it for far too long."

  "Of course you have," she said with a coy smile. It was all very amusing when her barbs were for other people, not quite so amusing when they were directed at him. And Minette and Sophie in the same room could be utterly disastrous. As Sophie didn't like him, she certainly wasn't going to like Minette, who was much more entrenched in society than he had ever been.

  "Wellswar, we have a guest. Can you see that one of the guest rooms is prepared? We will take tea in the morning room." The morning room was somewhere he never went. He had no reason to. It was where ladies sat and wiled away the morning. Sophie had set up her own salon upstairs as it turned out, so she never sat in the morning room either, but it was the perfect place for Minette.

  With calculating eyes, she looked around the room and took note of the treasures displayed. Minette was always evaluating. It was part of her nature.

  "So this is where you grew up. I struggle to see you as a little boy, but then, according to your own telling, your son looks exactly like you at that age. I have to admit I am curious. How fares it with your little family?"

  "No family, as you know things are more complicated than that," Tristan chided her. She was picking at him, chipping away until she had what she wanted. Which was what?

  "Where is the little tyke? Having his lessons?"

  "He is upstairs with his mother."

  Minette's eyebrows rose. "Is he one of those boys glued to his mother's skirts?"

  "No. We lost our tutor."

  "Lost? How careless."

  "An opportunity arose that he couldn't refuse."

  "But he just arrived."

  Tristan shrugged. "It just turned out differently."

  "Was he handsome?"

  "What? No, not particularly. A very nondescript and average man." This conversation was making him uncomfortable. Since when had Minette been so intent on his discomfort?

  "Well, that is a shame."

  Wellswar appeared with the tea service and served them both a steaming cup of tea. "Your room is ready whenever you should wish to use it."

  "Thank you, that's wonderful," she said with a beaming smile.

  "How long are you staying?"

  "I haven't made any specific plans," Minette said airily, but then her attention was drawn away from him and she shifted over in her seat. "And who is this young man?"

  Turning, Tristan could see Alfie peeking through the door. "Come here, Alfred, and introduce yourself."

  The boy stepped into the room awkwardly, but he didn't come close. Stood rod straight. He needed some guidance on greeting people, Tristan realized.

  "What a handsome young man," Minette said. "And so big for your age. How old are you again?"

  "Six," Alfie said.

  "I see. The spitting image of your father. And where is your mother?"

  "Upstairs resting."

  "As we should all be. It is a merciless journey down here."

  "Daring of you to brave it," Tristan said tersely. "Run along, Alfred." The boy shot out as if relieved to be released. They really did need to work on his manners. "I am addressing some gaps in his education."

  "Not by losing his tutor. Perhaps a governess would be more suitable if you have a habit of losing the men staying in the house."

  "I have no such habit," Tristan said, feeling offended.

  "No, of course not. Silly of me. With whom did you say this tutor's new opportunity was?"

  "With Faulkness."

  "William Faulkness? All the way in Cairo. Tristan, you didn't have to banish the poor man."

  "It was his dream to visit Cairo. He talked about it endlessly. He simply achieved his wish."

  Minette's look was chiding. How was it that she always seemed to understand what he'd done? Was he that blatant to read?

  Breathing deeply, she sighed and looked around again. "I might retire for a while and rest before supper. It really was a long ride."

  "Of course. I will show you to your room," he said as gallantly as he could. Perhaps he shouldn't feel so imposed upon with her visit. She was a good and trusted friend, even if she had taken up a new hobby of teasing him mercilessly. In truth, he could probably use someone on his side.

  Holding his elbow out for her, he led her up the stairs and to the yellow guest room that had been dressed in oriental fashion, with porcelain vases and yellow silks on the wall. It was suitably sumptuous, and reserved for any guest of honor. Minette would approve.

  With a nod, he left her at the door and she shut herself inside. At the main landing of the stairs, he paused. Instead, of walking down to his study, he went upstairs in search of Sophie, who was reliably found in her salon, along with Alfie.

&nbs
p; "I am sure you have heard that we have a guest," he said, feeling awkward encroaching on her territory. It was his house, but this part of it was annexed to her. "Lady Woolwich will probably be quite disappointed if you don't join us for supper tonight."

  Sophie's mouth was tight as she regarded him. Still hadn't forgiven him for sending Herman away, or rather for enabling his flight.

  "I am sure she is not here to see me."

  "I wouldn't be so sure. She certainly wouldn't have come all this way simply to see me."

  There really wasn't any way Sophie could say no. As a guest in his house, she couldn't really say no—not that it had stopped her when she was angry at him.

  "She is a very amiable woman. I am sure you will get on perfectly fine. Perhaps consider wearing…" What could he say? The nicest dress in your wardrobe? Which ranged from bad to awful. "That lovely shawl of yours." It was literally the only thing in her closet that was remotely appropriate. "Lady Woolwich rarely tends to dress down."

  Maybe Minette would be merciful and help the woman with some fashion advice.

  The smile on Sophie's face was tight, but now the awkwardness grew. They just didn't seem to be able to converse together. With nothing else to say, Tristan left. Why did she always have to be so damned difficult? The thorniest woman he'd ever had to deal with. Actually both of them were making things difficult for him. Women, they were going to be the bloody end of him.

  Chapter 31

  PARTIALLY, IT WAS CURIOSITY THAT drove Sophie down to the salon that evening. What kind of person was visiting, and what kind of person did Aberley keep as a friend—this person who apparently rarely dressed down.

  Sophie saw the gown before the person—luminous swathes of grey silk. Fine embroidery in pink and white. It was beautiful. So was the lady within it. Pretty eyes and a heart-shaped face. On first sight, she would not have expected this woman and Aberley to be friends.