fiance chapter 10

Sighing in resignation, Sophia said, “I was drinking that night.”

“How much?”

“Enough that I don’t remember what happened. I remember getting up to look for Solid, but after that, everything is blank.”

“Hmm…” he murmured, a short, ambiguous sound. He seemed to lament his sister’s carelessness. Sophia took his hand, still resting on the piano, and met his gaze. “That’s why I need you to ask the Duke what happened. You have the right.”

“Sophie,” Felix said, his tone cautionary. “You have the right, Sophie. Why haven’t you asked him?”

“I did.” Or had she? She’d instinctively answered, but now she was unsure. She had expressed her confusion about that night, but the Duke, flustered and concerned, hadn’t offered a real explanation. He seemed to think that “I confessed, and you drank the poison” summarized everything. Perhaps she should have been more direct.

Sensing her confusion, Felix patted her hand reassuringly. “How about this? The Duke invited me for the weekend. You should come along. I suspected he intended for you to be there anyway.”

Sophia was surprised. “He already invited you?”

“Not ‘already.’ You’ve been engaged for four months now.”

Sophia’s expression remained bewildered, as if she still couldn’t grasp the reality of her situation. Felix playfully tweaked her nose.

“Ow!” Sophia cried, clutching her nose.

“Get ready, Honeybee,” Felix sang, smoothly rising from the piano bench.

***

Felix enjoyed calling Sophia “Honeybee,” a nickname stemming from an incident when she was five. He delighted in recounting the story of how she’d disturbed a beehive during a picnic, been chased by a swarm, and ended up with a swollen, stinging face and body. “It’s hilarious. How does that even happen? What kind of adventurous five-year-old manages to do that?” he’d said when she asked why he loved telling the story.

Sophia, however, suspected it was simply the only one of Felix’s anecdotes that elicited any reaction. People always found the story of Sophia becoming “Honeybee” amusing, adding good-natured jests like, “Why ‘Honeybee,’ though? Did she become one of them?”

But the Duke’s face, as he listened to the tale, held only a polite smile, devoid of any genuine amusement. He hadn’t seemed pleased to see Sophia arrive with Felix. Before the Duke composed his usual gentle smile, Sophia had glimpsed a fleeting moment of coldness, and she knew.

“I think coming here was a mistake,” she whispered. But Felix, when she’d confided this, had gently chided her. “Sophie, you’re being strange. How much more welcoming do you expect the Duke to be?”

Sophia was baffled. ‘More welcoming’? He hadn’t been welcoming at all. She wondered if the Duke had somehow communicated something to Felix privately. It seemed likely. Felix, usually reserved, was utterly charmed by the Duke, despite their limited interaction. Felix had done all the talking, his mouth seemingly incapable of closing, leaving Sophia slightly flushed.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” she said, attempting to steer the conversation. Felix had been rambling about his esoteric studies—ancient history and undiscovered creatures—and Sophia noticed the Duke’s now-familiar look of boredom. As she spoke, the Duke’s gaze, for the first, or rather, second time since their arrival, finally settled fully on Sophia.