Chapter Eighteen #2
“Half of it’s true,” Sebastian said. “That’s what makes it so damnable. Sophie was a governess. Your courtship was brief. You were at a sanatorium. I did infiltrate Wentworth’s estate as a gardener to find proof.”
“Precisely,” Rose said. “So we counter with the truth. The full truth, presented in the most favorable light.”
“Thomas and I have already begun,” Charlotte said. “We’ve been making strategic calls, planting seeds of doubt about the Countess’s credibility.”
“What have you said?” Sophia asked.
“We have hinted at the Countess’s instability and her vindictive nature, using Rebecca’s will as fodder. What would make a daughter leave her child to anyone but her own mother?”
“Unless there was more to the story,” Charlotte said. “We have not said what exactly, but it has made people curious to find out more.”
“Mother will fight back,” Henry warned. “She always does.”
“Let her try.” James’s voice was steel. “We will take her down, one way or the other.”
“Many times, I have found my own mother’s behavior disagreeable,” Georgiana said. “But the Countess has been far worse.”
Sophia sent her a sympathetic smile. “At least your mother’s in America, where she cannot cause as much harm.”
Rose nodded. “I know a little something about a ruthless and cruel parent. As horrible as it sounds, I am simply glad my father is dead.”
“I find it amazing that we have all managed to remain good people, despite it all,” James said. “Well, some of us are better than others.” He glanced at his wife, humor sparking in his eyes.
“You are not nearly the ruffian you once were,” Georgiana said, her expression indulgent.
“All right, then. What do we do?” Sebastian asked. “We need a tactical plan.”
“That’s where we come in,” Thomas said. “Charlotte and I have been navigating society’s treacherous waters for years.”
“I’ve already begun making a list,” Charlotte said. “Events to attend, people to cultivate, strategic appearances. We’ll coordinate everything so there’s a consistent message.”
“Henry, your mother has attacked the wrong family. We will crush her,” James said with satisfaction.
They spent the next hour discussing tactics—which events to attend, which matrons to cultivate, how to address the rumors without appearing defensive. Charlotte took notes. By the time dinner was announced, they had the outline of a plan.
Over dinner, the conversation shifted slightly, becoming more personal. Georgiana discussed her own experiences in society after she married James. Rose offered insights from her own experience defending the Ashford name when she had first married Sebastian.
“None of this is insurmountable,” Sophia said. “I must keep reminding myself of that.”
“I might not care at all, except we need to protect Amelia,” Henry said. “Her future is at stake.”
“That is correct,” Rose said. “We must eradicate this gossip for all our children’s sakes.”
“The Ashford name has been destroyed before,” Sebastian said. “Surely we can make this go away.”
“We will,” Rose said firmly.
“It might even be a little fun,” Georgiana said, smirking.
“My wife can be vicious, you know,” James said.
“That is not true.” Georgiana laughed. “You are the volatile one in this marriage.”
James raised one eyebrow. “I would rather take care of it all with physical force, but that idea was quickly squashed by my wife.”
By the time they prepared to leave, Sophia felt more sure of herself and the possibility of success.
Back at Thornbridge House, Charlotte disappeared into her study and emerged with a more detailed schedule for the next two weeks—dinners, calls, a musicale, a small ball. Every event carefully chosen, every guest list analyzed for maximum impact.
“We start tomorrow,” Charlotte said. “With Lady Pembridge’s tea. She’s already on our side, and she’s invited several other influential women. It’s the perfect opening move.”
Sophia looked at the schedule, then at Henry, then at Charlotte.
“Let’s begin,” she said.
*
Lady Pembridge’s drawing room was elegant, with cream walls, tasteful paintings, comfortable furniture arranged to encourage conversation. Sophia arrived with Charlotte, Rose, and Georgiana, all four of them dressed impeccably but not excessively. Charlotte had been very specific about that.
Standing in Lady Pembridge’s doorway, Sophia felt her stomach clench with nerves. This was it. The first real test of their campaign.
“Lady Montrose, how delightful.” Lady Pembridge crossed the room with genuine warmth, taking both of Sophia’s hands. “And Your Grace, Your Grace, Lady Somerville—how wonderful to see you all.”
There were warm greetings exchanged. Clearly these women all moved in the same circles.
The Duchess of Devonshire greeted Charlotte with obvious affection.
Rose received polite nods from the assembled ladies.
It was an intimate gathering of nine, carefully curated.
As planned, Charlotte had been strategic about the guest list. The Duchess of Devonshire held immense social influence; her opinion could sway a dozen other matrons.
Mrs. Hartford was known for her sharp observations and sharper tongue.
If she could be won over, her endorsement would mean something.
Lady Ridgeway was a noted patron of education, with connections throughout society.
And Lady Westbrook had a reputation for kindness and hosted one of London’s most sought-after salons.
A carefully curated audience. Not hostile, but not entirely sympathetic either. Women whose opinions would ripple through society.
“Ladies, I’m so pleased to properly introduce Lady Sophia Montrose,” Lady Pembridge said, drawing Sophia forward. “Many of you may remember her as Lady Sophia Ashford before her marriage. The Duke of Ashford’s daughter.”
“The Duke who was vindicated,” the Duchess of Devonshire said thoughtfully. “That was quite a scandal. Your brother proved his innocence, didn’t he?”
“My brother Sebastian, yes.” Sophia kept her voice steady. “The real murderer was discovered. My father’s name was fully cleared.”
“A terrible injustice,” Lady Pembridge said firmly. “I cannot imagine what you children endured.”
“Thank you, Lady Pembridge,” Sophia said. “Our lives changed after they took our father away. We had many hard years, living with distant cousins. However, we are here now, perhaps the wiser for enduring hardships.”
Tea was served, and the conversation began to flow. At first, it was the usual social pleasantries—weather, upcoming events, Lady Pembridge’s excellent cook. But Sophia could feel the undercurrent of curiosity, the unasked questions hovering.
It was Lady Ridgeway who finally asked. Not unkindly, but directly.
“Lady Montrose, forgive me, but I must ask. The rumors circulating about your marriage—there are so many versions. What is the truth?”
The room went quiet. Every eye turned to Sophia.
Sophia swallowed and set down her teacup with deliberate calm.
“The truth is quite simple, actually. I was a governess to Lord Montrose’s niece, Amelia.
Her mother—Henry’s sister, Rebecca—and her husband died in a terrible accident, naming Henry as guardian.
He needed help caring for a small child, and I needed employment.
We developed a deep respect for each other.
Eventually, that respect became something more. ”
“How romantic,” Lady Pembridge said warmly.
“But the courtship was rather brief, was it not?” Mrs. Hartford asked. Not hostile, but pointed.
“Yes, and I heard there were reasons he had to marry in haste,” Lady Ridgeway said.
“It was a short courtship.” Sophia nodded, smiling. “When we confessed our feelings, we felt no need to wait, especially because there was a child involved. We wanted to give her a family.”
“What of Lord Montrose’s melancholy?” Mrs. Hartford asked. “Is it true he was in a sanatorium?”
Charlotte leaned forward smoothly. “Henry showed remarkable courage in seeking proper help after the death of someone he loved. I find it admirable that he had the strength to face his pain rather than hide from it.”
“Quite right,” the Duchess of Devonshire said. “My own son struggled after the war. There’s no shame in seeking help. If anything, it shows character.”
“And Lord Montrose is well now?” Lady Pembridge asked gently.
“Completely,” Sophia said. “He’s a wonderful father to Amelia. Patient, kind, devoted. And he is very good to me. We are blissfully in love.”
“Amelia adores them both,” Rose said. “She is a lucky little girl to have such loving parents.”
“She is the light of our lives,” Sophia said, truthfully.
“How sweet,” Lady Pembridge smiled. “What could have been a tragic childhood has become an idyllic one instead.”
Mrs. Hartford wasn’t quite finished. “But surely you must admit, Lady Montrose, that marrying your employer was certainly unconventional. Some might say calculated.”
The room tensed.
Georgiana’s eyes flashed, but before she could speak, Sophia answered calmly.
“I can understand why some might think that. But I would ask this: if I were calculating, wouldn’t I have aimed higher than a baron with a country estate and a child to raise?
” She smiled slightly. “I could have accepted Sebastian’s offer to sponsor a Season after our family’s vindication.
However, I love Henry and only Henry. No one else would do. ”
“Well said,” Charlotte said, beaming.
Mrs. Hartford turned to Rose, her expression calculating. “And isn’t it true, Your Grace, that you are the daughter of Viscount Wentworth? The very man who framed the Duke of Ashford for the murder of your mother? Furthermore, you married the man who proved your father’s guilt?”
The room went completely silent. Sophia glanced at each of the women. It was obvious from their expressions that they all knew this was true but wanted to hear what Rose had to say about it.