He gave her a look that was hard to read. And then he nodded. “Yes. I expected as much.”
She slid both her hands into her muff. “We can find somewhere inside, if you like.”
“If you’d prefer.”
“I thought a sleigh ride might give us more privacy.”
“Of course.”
The feeling of foreboding in Sophie’s stomach intensified. Ned’s face was so peculiarly blank. She wished she could tell what he was thinking. “Can you handle the ribbons?”
For the first time, a glint of some emotion flickered in his eyes. It may have been wry humor. “I’m not completely incompetent in the country.”
“No?” She endeavored to keep her voice light. “Did you shoot anything this morning?”
He extended his hand to help her up into the sleigh. “Does a tree branch count?”
She smiled, settling her skirts around her as Ned climbed into the sleigh at her side. “So little experience and already as skillful as my father.”
Ned draped a carriage blanket over her lap with a low chuckle. “He isn’t very good at it, is he?”
“I believe he likes the tramping around out of doors part better than the actual shooting. He’s never been particularly adept. Indeed, at one point, I’d considered that we might allow hunting parties from London to make use of our woods next season. For a fee, of course.”
“Very entrepreneurial.” Ned took the ribbons from the groom. “And, thanks to Murray, completely unnecessary.”
The sleigh started off with a jingle of bells as the horses surged into motion. Sophie could see no one else about. The other sleighs had gone in different directions and at varying speeds. For all intents and purposes, she and Ned were alone.
She cast him a sidelong glance. His profile was hard, his blue gaze fixed on the snowy expanse ahead of them. “Did you know he was going to propose to my sister?”
“I hadn’t a clue.”
“You were with them today, weren’t you? In my father’s study?”
“They wanted my input on the settlements.” He returned her glance. “Murray’s been excessively generous. You won’t ever have to worry again.”
She stared out at the snow. Ned was right. The burden of her family’s finances was finally gone. Papa’s profligacy could now be Mr. Murray’s problem. He seemed keen enough to subsidize new plumbing, re-graveled drives, and the like. Perhaps being a stonemason’s son really did give him an appreciation for repairs and renovations.
“I confess it is a relief,” she said. “I hadn’t realized how much until I woke up this morning. It was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.”
“No doubt.”
“Emily is proud of herself for managing it. She believes she saved me from making a martyr of myself.”
“And how do you feel?” he asked with a casualness that, on any other occasion, might have made her think he didn’t care in the least.
“I’m still trying to accustom myself to the new reality.”
“Which is?”
“That my life is my own again. That I need no longer do anything purely out of duty. From now on, any decisions I make about my future will be mine alone.” She felt him look at her, but she didn’t return his gaze. She continued to stare straight ahead, hands clasped tight within her muff as she gathered her courage. “Would you like to marry me?”
Ned’s expression hardened. “You already know what my intentions were. I made them clear enough to your father when I asked leave to court you in London.”
“You misunderstand me. I’m not inquiring about what your intentions were then. I’m asking you if you’ll marry me now.”
He jerked his head to stare at her.
She hesitated. “Well, not precisely now. In a few months. Or a few weeks. Whenever is convenient.”
His lips half parted as realization registered slowly on his face. That same jaw that had tensed seconds before went slack and his throat bobbed on a swallow. He was stunned. Staggered. Or—very possibly—horrified.
But Sophie was driven to continue, her words tumbling out in an impassioned rush. “I think I fell a little bit in love with you the night I came to your office in Fleet Street. And I’ve grown to love you more each day. So, if you have any feelings for me at all—if you have any inclination—I’d like very much for you to marry me and take me back to London. Because I do love you, Ned. And though I have no dowry, I would try very hard to be a good wife to you. To make up for any shortcomings—”