Chapter 14
Sophia sat quietly in the drawing room working on a pretty piece of embroidery she hoped to do something special with.
She would set it aside for her wedding trousseau, except that she had a secret fear she might never marry.
The only thing she added to with any regularity was her memento book, which now had pressed flower petals that had been in a vase the day he had come to call, and the beribboned accessory he retrieved that she never did sew back on her bonnet.
The libretto from the opera had also gone in the book, although it carried painful memories along with the happier ones.
Marie and Camilla sat with her, Marie engaged in untangling a mass of colored threads and Camilla tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. The subdued atmosphere was partially owing to Marie’s depressed spirits. She had explained them away by saying she had not had enough sleep.
Sophia was filled with sympathy for her.
Her affection for her friend remained undimmed, even though it had been painful to watch her walking with Mr. Harwood and conversing in such intimate posture.
It was all her own fault for not having told Marie of her interest in Mr. Harwood from the beginning, and now it was too late.
It would be impossible to tell her anything now when her friend had expressed her own interest first. Because of her secret, a distance seemed to have sprung up between them that had never been there before.
And besides, as often happened when she was not directly in Mr. Harwood’s company, she convinced herself that there was every reason he would choose Marie over her.
At least that was what she had thought until the picnic.
But there, he had admitted to watching her, and his eyes had been alive with warmth when he had said it.
His statement had surprised her so greatly, she was not sure what she would have said had she been allowed to finish her sentence.
But surely, he would not say such a thing if he was not interested?
His revelation left her more confused now than ever.
Camilla finally stopped drumming her fingers and picked up her tea. The cake on her plate was only half-eaten. “Evo should be here soon.”
They had been waiting for their younger brother to come, now that he was on school holiday. He was to spend two weeks with them, and Sophia could not wait to see him.
“I shall be glad to have a glimpse of him, too, for I am sure he is much grown,” Marie offered. “But then I shall leave you to your family. I should not wish to impose.”
“You will not impose,” Sophia protested.
“You are generous to say so, but it is best that you be allowed a private family dinner to catch up on everything. Besides, Papa has invited Mr. Edwards this evening for dinner. And he brings news that Papa thinks will interest me. He is very droll and well-connected,” Marie said dully, quelling any hopes Sophia might have that she would fall for him instead.
“I am sure it will be a very pleasant evening,” she answered cautiously.
Tilly entered the room carrying a tray of paper cuttings and scissors. She sat on one of the chairs and placed them on the table, picking up one she had cut into the shape of a flower.
“What’s that, Tilly?” Sophia leaned forward and picked up another sample of her cutting. “How pretty! You are skilled at this delicate work.”
“Miss Cross showed me how to make the extra layers. She learned it from her sister on her last visit.” She smiled at Sophia. “It’s to decorate the table for Evo’s return. I have made something else, as well, as a surprise.”
“I am sure his spirits will be lifted by the paper flowers,” Camilla said gravely. Sophia was sure she was teasing, but there was no malice in her tone so she refrained from comment.
“You appear to have ended on good terms with Mr. Grantly when last I saw you at the picnic,” Marie said. She had been unnaturally quiet on their return that day and made few observations on the afternoon. “Has he redeemed himself?”
“I believe I understand him a little better. He told me he does not converse well with ladies.” Camilla paused, adding with a smile, “So I encouraged him to go on ignoring me, if that will make him feel better.”
Marie and Sophia laughed. “I would protest that you did no such thing,” Sophia said, “except for the fact that I am sure you did.”
Camilla chuckled. “He does have some surprises in him, however, for he admitted—quite by accident—to developing a subscription program for a local school so that the village children might have literacy. Perhaps you ought to see if he is willing to subscribe to the naval asylum, Sophia.”
She knew from her sister’s tone that she was teasing, but she repressed a shudder at the thought of approaching someone so intimidating. “I dare not approach a gentleman on such a matter—especially one who does not enjoy conversing with ladies.”
“I will send Regina Edwards to him,” Marie said with a laugh. “She is not afraid of anyone.”
A familiar rap sounded on the front door, and Sophia stood in anticipation.
“It’s Evo,” Tilly said, hurrying to the door. The others followed, spilling into the corridor where the young earl, now fourteen, stood proudly.
“Halloo,” he exclaimed, taking off his hat with a cheeky grin. “It’s the hounds.”
Sophia was accustomed to his desire to shock, but this could not slide. “What is this expression, Evo? Every time you return to us from school you have grown more savage.” Despite her severe expression, she held out her arms. “You should greet us properly.”
He came and dutifully offered her a kiss on the cheek and allowed her to hug him back. He then bowed before Marie and greeted her, gave a sweeping but ironic bow to Camilla, and hugged Tilly from the side and shook her. “And here is the pup.”
She frowned at him, but Sophia could see she was not angry. Tilly had always looked up to her older brother, even at his most exasperating.
“Well, I must be going,” Marie said.
Sophie called the butler to her. “Turton, can you fetch Miss Mowbray’s bonnet please?” He nodded and disappeared into the cloak room.
Marie inhaled suddenly. “I almost forgot to tell you. There is to be a masquerade ball at Vauxhall in a fortnight, and there are to be fireworks! Papa said it is to be announced soon and that the Duchess of Wexcombe has reserved a supper box and will be in attendance. I have always wanted to attend a masquerade. My father and mother adore them, but this will be my first.”
Sophia glanced at Camilla, her brows knit. “That does sound amusing. Perhaps we might mention it to Mother?”
Camilla nodded, clearly not opposed to the idea.
Although the mention of Vauxhall would give Lady Poole pause, Sophia hoped she would accept if the duchess was also in attendance.
She had heard it possible to reserve a supper box to avoid mixing with any unsavory members of the crowd.
However, the real difficulty would lie in convincing Dorothea of the idea, for she was the greatest stickler.
“Farewell,” Marie said, addressing them all. She looked at Sophia, and some of her smile returned. “We shall speak more about the masquerade. I will own myself surprised if we do not already have costumes stashed away in trunks for both you and I—and Camilla, too, if you wish to come.”
Sophia agreed to this and caught a glimpse of Marie’s face as she turned.
Her smile had vanished as soon as it was not on display, showing that she was still not herself.
Sophia wondered if it was because Marie had guessed of her feelings for Mr. Harwood and was hurt by her duplicitous nature.
There was every reason to think she knew, for Sophia felt utterly transparent whenever she was near him.
If only she knew exactly how he felt about her.
She turned to her brother, who had been twisting the knob on top of the stairwell that had come loose.
“Evo, we will be eating in three hours. I am sure you will wish to clean up and have some sustenance before then.”
“You have set it in the wrong order, but you are precisely right.”
She smiled and turned to the butler. “Will you…?”
She did not need to finish her sentence before their two footmen—both named George and called George One and George Two—came into the corridor to bring Evo’s trunk to his room. She put her hand on her brother’s shoulder and gave him a little push.
“You go with them, and I will have something sent up to you. Mind that you dress properly for dinner. Mama has not seen you in a while.”
“Where is she now?” he asked.
“She is recovering from an illness and preferred to dine with us rather than wait for your arrival and be too tired for it.” She hoped their mother would be well enough to come down for the dinner hour.
He seemed completely unaffected by the news of his mother’s illness as he mounted the stairs, but it was more likely his confidence that nothing was seriously amiss with Lady Poole than it was a lack of affection for her.
Before dinner, Sophia entered the dining room and glanced around the table to check that all was in order.
It was set for the entire family for the first time since last season.
Tilly’s paper decorations were in front of every plate, and there were sugared violets on little dishes next to each glass to add color and sweetness.
Their dinners were often subdued without two members of their family—three if one counted their father. But tonight everyone would be here, including Dorothea and Miles. She looked up as the door opened and Tilly came in carrying more decorations, this time branches of rosemary tied with ribbon.
“You have done well with decorating the table,” Sophia said. “The sugared flowers are exquisite. It is just what our dinner needed.”
Tilly beamed under the praise and turned as their mother entered the room, followed by Joanna.