Sophie looked at him. In the candlelight, her eyes were as black as his. “Well, you needn’t worry about us,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I shall move back with my mother.” Her hands compulsively caressed her stomach.

“Of course you won’t move back with your mother,” Patrick retorted irritably.

“Why on earth not? I will be giving birth to my child in early autumn, as I believe you have forgotten.”

Patrick registered with a pang that Sophie talked of her child. “You won’t move back with your mother because it wouldn’t look right,” he said dismissively.

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “It wouldn’t look right.” Her tone was glacial. “I gather you spend a good deal of time worrying about how our marriage looks to outside eyes, Your Grace.” She punctuated the title with an awful irony.

Patrick flushed. “I apologize for not informing you about the title, Sophie.” But he couldn’t see the point of going into further explanations. What was he supposed to say? Admit that he had entirely forgotten about the useless title? His wife didn’t think titles were useless! Look at all the fuss she was making because she had been made a duchess.

“You’re a duchess now. Can’t you just be pleased about it?”

Sophie stared at her husband’s back as he looked down into the fire. Pleased? Her marriage was a disaster, worse than she had ever pictured in her youth.

“Perhaps it would be better if you did stay with your mother,” Patrick said now, kicking the logs with his foot. “I shall likely be gone for several months.”

This is the end, Sophie acknowledged to herself. Even her own mother had never been sent home by her husband. Patrick cared so little about her that it seemed he’d forgotten she existed. How else could he have neglected to tell her that he was becoming a duke? And he certainly had ignored the forthcoming birth of their child. It appeared he wouldn’t even be in the country at the time.

Tears prickled so hard at the back of her eyes that Sophie had to swallow, so she rose and quietly walked out of the room. There was, literally, no point in talking further.

Only innate, fierce pride kept Sophie’s head high during the next few weeks. She registered Madeleine’s social triumphs with some pleasure. But Patrick came home late every night now. Twice she sent a message to Charlotte and joined their party for the evening, since her husband was no longer accompanying her to social events.

Alex looked at her with his black eyes that were so like and unlike Patrick’s, but neither he nor Charlotte ever asked her why Patrick had seemingly disappeared from London society. Sophie drew strength from Charlotte’s silent support.