Chapter 2
Two days later Sophia was in her bedchamber, looking through the small collection of gowns Lucas had paid for in the belief that this would be enough for her to be suitably attired for the season.
It was late afternoon, and she had been upstairs since not long after lunch.
Ostensibly trying to choose what to wear for dinner tonight, to please her brother and obey his wishes, but in reality writing a nature poem which had distracted her during her walk in the garden that morning.
The birdsong, early sunlight, and different varieties of flowers in the small garden had stayed with her.
So much so that she knew from experience if she didn't get her observations onto paper the thoughts and poem would be gone.
Something which had become an endless frustration for her, since she was unable to regard her time as her own.
There was so much she wanted to explore, and write about, while cautiously appearing not to be interested in anything of the sort in front of Lucas.
She had become used to hiding her paper and pen under a cushion when she heard his voice in the hall, or the front door opening if he had been out.
Picking up the same piece of embroidery she had been working on since the start of the season, adding only two or three more stitches to it if he came into the room.
Thankfully he had so far failed to notice her lack of progress.
She was glad at times like this that her brother had been frugal regarding the number of servants he kept, and hadn't hired a replacement maid to help her dress.
At least this meant that she could be alone with her thoughts when she stayed in her bedchamber, and relatively undisturbed.
Trusting that the housemaid, Amy, who was of a similar age to herself and sympathetic to her plight, wouldn't reveal the amount of time she spent writing.
Least of all to Lucas. The two women had developed a quiet friendship which didn't go beyond the bounds of propriety, but helped both of them to cope in different ways.
Sophia spoke kindly when Cook was being unkind, and Amy's quiet voice often made Sophia feel better after Lucas had been spiteful again.
She had spoken to Amy about finding another position, since she wasn't particularly happy being part of Lucas' household.
Even though in her heart it was the last thing she wanted her to do.
Amy was however adamant that she would stay with Miss Barlow, and not leave her alone.
She had seen how much Sophia suffered at Lucas' hands, and dried her tears on more than one occasion.
She also did her best to help Sophia with her hair when her arms were tired from struggling with holding the weight of it for too long.
Although styling it simply was the best both of them could manage, without any of the bits and pieces of ornament the other debutantes used to intrigue their eligible gentlemen.
Sophia knew only too well that none of this mattered to Lucas.
Far better in his eyes that he should continue to accumulate wealth, and keep what he already had.
Whereas from what Owen had told her, Papa had left sufficient funds in his estate for all of them to live quite comfortably, without this penny pinching.
A disturbing thought came to her then. She hoped neither Mama nor Papa knew what Lucas was doing, as they would surely turn in their graves and not be able to rest easily.
Tears trickled down her face again, until she rubbed them away impatiently.
This simply wouldn't do! She had left it late enough to choose from the gowns she had already worn many times before, and couldn't delay her decision any longer.
Without further ado she chose the nearest dress from the pile on her bed, and began to brush her hair as the words of the poem came back to her.
Determined that they wouldn't be lost, until she pushed them wearily again to the back of her mind.
The dress she had chosen was pretty enough, she supposed.
White, with sprigs of pale pink rosebuds on the skirt, and ribbons to tie under the bodice.
She had certainly been glad to receive it at the start due to not having had many new clothes since Papa's passing.
She could wear Mama's pearl necklace with it.
This was her favourite piece of jewellery.
Lucas had said that she could have the rest of the things Papa had given to her when she was twenty-one.
However, as awful as it was, she hadn't completely believed him when he said it.
Since he had that strange look on his face.
She realised afterwards that she hadn't seen the box the jewellery was in since Papa's passing.
It had always been kept on Mama's dressing table, and when she kept on asking Lucas about it, he eventually told her that it must have been lost.
She only had the pearls and coral necklace, since these had been in her bedchamber.
Papa didn't have any objection at all to her wearing anything that had belonged to her mother, but she had no idea now what had happened to everything else.
Another mystery, she thought, sighing to herself but Lucas would no doubt know the exact whereabouts of the box.
With a heavy heart she returned the other dresses to the wardrobe where she had left her two ball gowns.
These were made of heavier cloth, and for more formal occasions.
Not that she cared particularly about what she wore any more.
Especially after hearing two of the other debutantes discussing her lack of dresses, and the shame of not apparently having any new ones.
They had attributed this to her lowly position socially, as a merchant's daughter, and to not having a mama to guide her.
Catherine's observations about romance in Northanger Abbey came to her mind in an instant, and the realisation that she completely understood why she had yearned for adventure.
Sophia knew only too well by now how it felt to be trapped in a dilemma which didn't seem to have a solution.
Unless of course Lucas presented her with a suitor she was drawn to and felt she might be able to love, which seemed highly unlikely.
Her other greatest fear, and reason for refusing to accept any of the earlier proposals she had received, was that any one of the gentlemen who had made them might forbid her to carry on reading.
Possibly even worse than that, refuse to give her permission to continue writing the poetry she loved.
Sophia knew that if this happened her life would truly no longer be worth living, as some gentlemen did expect complete obedience from their wives.
Without them ever daring to express an opinion of their own, let alone use their imagination, or think of having an adventure.
Sophia frowned in a most unladylike manner.
She couldn't summon any enthusiasm at all for tonight, or their unknown guest. Wishing again that she still had time to put the finishing touches to her poem while recognising the futility of this.
Nevertheless she was starting to wonder who their visitor might be, and her optimistic nature dared her to hope again that Lucas had for once invited a gentleman whose company she might actually enjoy.
A short while later, Sophia stepped into the drawing room where Lucas and Owen were engaged in a loud conversation.
Their voices were raised, and it appeared to be some sort of disagreement.
They stopped speaking as soon as they noticed that she was there.
Sophia was alarmed to see the concerned expression on Owen’s face when he greeted her.
Something clearly wasn’t right, and her suspicions were confirmed when the butler announced the arrival of Lord Dilley. Much to her horror, and dismay.
Sophia stared at Lucas, realising that he had tricked her into having dinner with such a horrible gentleman.
Taking the chance away from her to plead illness, and need to have a tray brought upstairs to her bedchamber.
He had that look on his face again which she equated to someone being about to suffer at his hands, and this time it was going to be her.
He was staring at her now, with a mean and hard look in his eyes.
A year ago, Lord Dilley had offered for Sophia’s hand, and if it hadn’t been for Owen’s intervention at the time, Lucas would have forced her into an unwanted marriage with him.
Owen’s persistent defence of her wishes was the beginning of Lucas' stream of suitors being invited for dinner.
She had been right in her earlier assumption that her brother was angry.
This was his way of seeking revenge on both Owen and her, for daring to argue with him when he was head of the family.
As Owen and her had anticipated, dinner was an extremely awkward affair, with Lord Dilley staring across the table at her throughout in a lewd manner.
As she continually rebutted his attempts at drawing her into conversation about inconsequential matters.
Being unable to believe her brother had done such a dreadful thing, and not being prepared to make it any easier for her prospective husband.
However it was clear that Lucas was enjoying Owen’s and hers, obvious discomfort.
Whilst they couldn’t help feeling relieved when dinner eventually came to an end.
The following morning, Amy knocked politely on the door of Sophia's bedchamber, and told her that she had been summoned by Lucas to have breakfast downstairs with him. Instead of the tray she had asked to be brought to her room. As she stepped into the drawing room, Owen caught her eye and shook his head slightly warning her not to cross Lucas any further. She could also tell by the look on Owen’s face that something was very wrong.