by Amelia Grey
The earl blinked rapidly. “Ah—well—yes. Yes, indeed it stands, but why would you want to?”
“I’d rather keep my reasons to myself.”
“Yes, I understand that, but I’m partnered with Miss Craftsman, you realize.”
Matson knew.
Lord Snellingly cleared his throat and sniffed. “I mean the lovely Miss Craftsman. She tries hard to appreciate good poetry, but she simply doesn’t have it in her soul to do so.” He put his hand over his heart. “But Miss Hart. My heart. She is like a beacon of light.”
One corner of Matson’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Some of us are like Miss Craftsman, my lord. It would be a great help to me if you would agree to the exchange.”
“Yes, yes, I already have,” he said, laughing. “I’ll agree again now before you can change your mind.”
“Good. If you’ll send the lovely Miss Craftsman a note, telling her that things have changed and I will now be her partner, and I’ll do the same for Miss Hart.”
“Gladly. I’ll do it today. Right now. As soon as you leave.”
Matson rose. “You do know Miss Hart adores poetry, don’t you? She would probably love it if you recited some deep, meaningful poetry to her during the rowboat race.”
Lord Snellingly’s brows lifted, and his eyes shone brightly. “Yes, I think that would be just the thing to win her heart. I’ll be sure to have plenty of poetry for her.”
“We’ll consider it done, then. Thank you, my lord.”
Lord Snellingly stood up. “Don’t you want to stay for tea? Perhaps you might help me pick out some poetry that will be fitting for Miss Hart.”
“I’m sure you can do that much better than I, and I have other things to see to this afternoon. I’m certain you will fill her head and her heart with your words.”
When Lord Snellingly shut the door behind Matson, he closed his eyes and took in a long, deep breath. It was settled. He was rid of her. She’d never speak to him again after this.
But for some reason he didn’t feel as good as he’d expected to. There was no relief, only an empty feeling inside him. But what else was he to do? Her vow left him no choice in the matter.
He would get over her. He did what was the best thing for him and for her. And of all the titled men seeking her hand, Lord Snellingly was the best one for her. He wouldn’t gamble away her inheritance like Lord Hargraves. He wouldn’t bed her just once or twice, get her with child, and then send her off to live in the country the rest of her life. And Matson was sure he’d never be cruel to her.
Matson felt like a fist had punched him hard in the stomach. There was one other thing Lord Snellingly wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t make her feel the passion Matson had made her feel.
Matson’s hands made fists at his sides as he started down the stone walkway.
God help him. Already he was wishing he hadn’t made the trade.
Twenty-one
Who brought me hither will bring me hence; no other guide I seek.
—John Milton
There was no pleasure inside Sophia as she sat at her dressing table to finish dressing for the parties she had to attend later in the evening. She didn’t know how Matson could have misunderstood her so badly about the warehouse.
And why had it made him so angry?
He could have the space as long as he needed it. Shevington Shipping had been in Southampton for many years and could stay there until other arrangements were made. There was no hurry to get it to London. She wished she knew what parties he was attending so she could find him. She wanted to make things right with him.
A light knock sounded on her bedchamber door. “Come in,” she called and picked up a pearl earring to fasten to her ear.
Her aunt Mae rushed in and quickly closed the door behind her and locked it. She kept her face toward the door and her back to Sophia.
“What are you doing?” Sophia asked when she didn’t immediately turn around or say anything.
“I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“That I need to find my courage,” Mae said.
Sophia smiled and screwed her other earring onto her ear. “Do you think you will find it on my door?”
“No. It’s inside me, but I haven’t seen it in so long that I’m not sure I know where it is.”
Sophia’s hands stilled at her aunt’s odd words. “Is something wrong, Auntie?”
Mae slowly turned around, holding her arms crossed over her upper chest with her fingers splayed. Her eyes were wild with panic.
Sophia rose from her dressing stool. “What has happened? Is something wrong with Aunt June or Sir Randolph?”
“No, it’s me.”
“What?”
Mae lowered her arms to her sides, and revealed the extremely low-cut gown she was wearing.
“Oh,” Sophia breathed softly. The scooped neckline of the sheer, ruby-colored gown was one of the most revealing Sophia had seen all Season. The high waist fit snug under Mae’s breasts, helping to lift them up to pop from beneath the neckline. Sophia was sure that only the most daring of ladies would wear a gown cut that low.
“Well, what do you think?” Mae asked.
Sophia hesitated. “I think that dress is reve—ravishing. Yes, it makes you look ravishing.”
“Oh, I thought so too when Mrs. Franco first showed it to me,” Mae said with a beautiful smile of relief as she rushed closer to Sophia. “Do you think it will make gentlemen finally take notice of me?”
“Yes, yes, they will notice you,” Sophia agreed.
“You don’t think it’s too low, do you? I’ve seen other ladies, highborn ladies, wear them cut this low.”
Sophia started to say yes, maybe it was a little too daring, but when she saw the hope for approval in her aunt’s eyes, she knew she couldn’t take that away from her. And, after all, she was the one who had cut the lace from Mae’s neckline a couple of weeks ago.
“If you want to be noticed by all the gentlemen at the parties tonight, then this is the dress for you. You look young and stunning, Auntie.”
Mae beamed. “I’ve had a fichu made to cover it until I can get out of the house, so June won’t see it. She wouldn’t approve.”
Sophia was certain of that. Suddenly Sophia took her aunt’s hands and said, “Come sit on the window seat with me. I want to talk to you.”
“All right.”
They settled onto the velvet-covered seat, and Sophia said, “I’ve been pondering this for the past few days. I think it’s time we told June that you want Sir Randolph to make it known that you would be amenable to gentlemen calling on you.”
Mae pulled her hands out of Sophia’s and leaned away from her. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”
“You must, Auntie. What we have been doing is not working. We have tried to get the gentlemen who call on me to engage with you, but we haven’t had much success.”
“No, that’s not true,” Mae argued. “They all talk to me and smile at me once in a while. They all enjoy hearing the story of mine and June’s birth. Well, maybe not that Mr. Parker Wilson, but he was such a stuffy prig. And, he isn’t that handsome anyway, is he? But all the others have been kind.”
“Yes, but they came here expecting to call on me. Not you. They can’t develop designs on you, because they don’t know that you are available to be courted.”
“It may not be working yet, but it can. It will,” she said enthusiastically.
Sophia smiled indulgently at her. “Look at how splendid you look in your opulent red dress, Aunt Mae. With your three strings of pearls around your neck and the lovely white feathers in your hair, you will be the belle of the ball. You have lived June’s life for years, and it’s time you came out and lived your own life.”
“Oh, I want to
,” Mae said excitedly. “I just don’t want her to know.”
Sophia decided to try a different tactic. “What would you do if you found a beau? If he came to call on you, June would know. You couldn’t hide him from her.”
“Hmm. I hadn’t really considered that.” She seemed to think on it for a moment and then said, “I know. I could meet him in the park.”
“You know that won’t work. June walks with you to the park each day.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Sophia, dear. Are you dressed?”
Mae jumped off the seat fearfully and whispered, “Shh. Don’t answer her.”
“I have to answer,” Sophia whispered. “She knows I’m in here.”
“No, she can’t see me in this dress. You must do something.”
“Sophia.” The doorknob turned, and then the door rattled. “Sophia, is your door locked? Sophia?”
“Don’t,” Mae mouthed.
“Just a minute, Aunt June,” Sophia called. She turned to Mae. “It’s time you found that courage you were looking for earlier.”
Sophia walked over to unlock and open the door.
“What are you two doing in here with the door locked?” June asked, relying heavily on her cane as she walked into the room.
Sophia turned back and saw that Mae had grabbed a pillow from the window seat and clutched it to her chest.
“We were just having a chat about gentlemen,” Sophia said, hoping to encourage Mae to be truthful with her sister.
“And you needed to lock the door for that?” June asked and then made her clucking sound.
Clearly June was thinking there was more to the story. Sophia looked at Mae, who stood wide-eyed and rigid with fear.
“You look lovely, Sophia,” June said. “I approve of the dress you chose. And what do you have on, Mae? I don’t recall seeing that shade of red among your gowns.”
“No, it’s new,” Mae said, her eyes looking glassy with guilt.
“Then let me see it.”
Mae timidly walked around in a tight circle to show June the back of the dress, but she didn’t lower the pillow.
“It’s lovely. I wouldn’t have chosen that dramatic ruby shade for you, but I think it goes well with your coloring.”
“Thank you,” Mae said stiffly.
“Since I’m not going tonight, why don’t you wear my black velvet cape. The one with the velvet ribbon and jeweled neckline.”
“That would be nice. I think I’ll do that. I’ll go get it right now.”
Mae walked past June, and as she did, June reached out and grabbed the pillow, saying, “Don’t take Sophia’s pillow with you, silly—Good heavens, Mae! What do you have on?”
“I don’t know,” Mae said, seeming terrified.
Sophia wanted to stay out of the conversation, knowing it was really between her aunts, but felt compelled to say, “Tell her, Aunt Mae.”
Mae remained mute and shook her head.
“Tell me what?”
“Nothing. I’ll just go to my room and change.”
“Aunt Mae wants a beau,” Sophia said, not knowing if it was her place to say it, but June had to know.
“A what?” June asked and wrinkled her nose as if she were looking at a soiled piece of laundry.
“She wants to be courted by a gentleman, Aunt June.”
“Well, she can’t,” June said, lifting her chest, her shoulders, and her chin defensively. “I won’t allow it.”
Sophia looked at Mae, wondering if she was going to bow to June’s commands once again or stand up for herself.
“Sister,” Mae said quietly, “in this you have no say.”
“Of course I do,” she said emphatically, clearly affronted Mae had the gall to question and defy her. “Now go take off that dress and put on something appropriate for your age and place in life to take your niece to the parties.”
Mae promptly stomped toward the door, and Sophia’s heart dropped. But all of a sudden, Mae stopped and turned back to June. “No, not this time, Sister. Tonight I will wear what I want, and I want to wear this gown.”
June’s bottom lip quivered. “You can’t wear that. It’s… it’s too revealing and downright scandalous. That gown won’t get you courted, it will get you bedded.”
“Then that will be all right too,” Mae said.
June gasped.
Sophia felt triumphant.
“No,” June demanded. “I can’t allow you to be hurt that way. You don’t know how painful it is.”
Mae looked confused. “I don’t intend to get hurt. I intend to enjoy myself.”
“But you will be hurt. Men will tell you how beautiful you are and how much they want to kiss you and touch you, and then when you let them, they won’t ever call on you again.”
Sophia saw tears gather in June’s eyes, and her heart broke for her strong, unbending aunt. So there was a man in June’s past.
A faraway expression settled over June’s features, and Sophia knew the years were rolling back for her.
“It was our first Season. You remember Mr. John Phillip Bailey, don’t you, Mae?”
“Yes,” Mae whispered softly, inching closer to her sister.
“He was so handsome, so dapper, so dashing. And he thought I was the most beautiful young lady he’d ever seen. And I was, wasn’t I.”
“You were gorgeous, Sister.”
June’s lips smiled sadly. “We danced and chatted at every party. And when we went into the garden, I let him kiss and touch me so many times. And it was so wonderful.” June closed her eyes for a moment, and slowly the expression on her face changed from serene into a bitter frown. “But after all we had shared, he decided he wanted someone else.”
“Why did you never tell me?” Mae asked affectionately.
“I couldn’t. No one ever knew, but when he rejected me and told me he was going to marry someone else, a titled man’s daughter, I almost ended my life that night.”
“No,” Mae said in earnest, her gaze never leaving her sister’s face.
“Yes, I did. I thought long and hard on it, but I didn’t end my misery and heartache. I suffered through it, and I still endure it every day because of you.”
“Me?” Mae asked.
“Yes, I lived so I could keep you from making the same mistakes I made. All these years I have shielded you from the hurt and the anguish of being used and rejected.” She took her fist and pounded it over her heart. “I did that for you.”
Mae stepped closer to June. Sadness clouded her eyes. “And I appreciate all you have done for me.”
“Then prove it,” June demanded harshly. “Take off that dress!”
“No, June, that time has passed.” Mae inhaled deeply. “I might be hurt. I might even be deeply wounded one day, but I can’t be hurt until I have loved. I want to know what it’s like to love a man.”
June huffed bitterly. “Then go and wear your revealing gown and have all the men gawking at you—and at your age! It’s shameful. But don’t come running home to me when your heart is broken, because I won’t be here for you.”
June turned and hobbled from the room. A few seconds later, Sophia heard a door slam down the corridor.
“What have I done?” Mae said.
“You helped your sister face a past she didn’t ever want to see again.”
“Do you think she will ever forgive me for making her tell that story?”
“Of course,” Sophia reassured her aunt. “I think she will pout for a few days, but she will come around. I’m willing to bet she loves you more than she hates her past.”
“I wonder why she never told me she had been hurt so badly that she almost ended her life. I thought we shared everything.”
“It was obviously something that was very hard for her to bear.”
“B
ut I could have helped lighten the load for her,” Mae said sympathetically.
“And you will. You already have. She no longer has to carry that burden alone now that you know.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Do you think we should pass on the parties and stay here with her tonight?” Sophia asked.
Mae studied over her suggestion. “No. That might make her think I have weakened. I must admit I am tempted to take off this gown and stay here with her. But I need to go out tonight and wear this dress for me.”
“All right.” Sophia smiled. “I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”
Mae kissed her cheek and hurried out the door.
Sophia sat back down at her dressing table and smiled. Mae certainly knew how to get Sophia’s mind off her troubles with Matson. She was even more eager to find him and clear up their misunderstanding.
“Miss Hart?”
Sophia looked up and saw the housekeeper standing in her doorway.
“This was just delivered, and the man said he was told it must be given to you straightaway.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Anderson.”
Sophia waited until the woman was gone before she opened the card and read:
Miss Hart,
I have spoken with Lord Snellingly. He and I have agreed to change partners for Lord Tradesforke’s May Day Fair Day alfresco event on Saturday. He will meet you at the park at the appointed hour and be your partner for the day.
Mr. Brentwood
Sophia’s heart broke.
Twenty-two
The course of true love never did run smooth.
—William Shakespeare
It had taken Sophia two days, but she had finally gotten mad at Matson.
How dare he trade her for the beautiful Miss Craftsman, with her clear olive skin and hair as dark and shiny as a raven’s feathers? And of all the gentlemen in London to trade her to—Lord Snellingly!
If Matson hadn’t wanted to attend May Day Fair Day with her, he could have at least changed with the younger, stronger Lord Hargraves, so she would have had at least a chance of beating him in the rowboat race. The only way Sophia could imagine Lord Snellingly in a rowboat was with a servant doing the rowing while he read poetry. The only other worst possible choice would have been the amorous Lord Bighampton.
