“As do I.” Sophie nodded, missing her good friend already. “My favorite day was St. Stephen’s Day. We were able to give out food and coin to so many widows. Lady Ferncroft made sure her tenants and the vicar spread the word. Those women were very grateful and anxious to have something for the season.”
“My dear, you are such a kind soul. You need an equally kind soul in a husband. Did Lady Eleanor have a ball?”
Though Sophie would rather not talk about it, Mrs. Boyd had no access to such events, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her own feelings before her friend’s. She was so grateful that Mrs. Boyd never shooed her from the kitchen, and the woman often had a different perspective on life than Sophie did, opening her eyes to a different world from the aristocracy. In turn, she shared her own society. “She did, and it was a masked ball, as is fitting.”
Mrs. Boyd smacked her hand on the table. “I knew it. And you dressed as a queen. No, not a queen. You must have been an angel.”
Sophie’s cheeks heated at the compliment. “No, I cannot aspire to such a lofty figure. I went as a shepherdess. But there were many costumes.”
“Oh, tell me, Lady Sophie.”
She was happy to oblige, painting a picture as best she could with her words of the characters seen that night. She didn’t mention Lord Tamworth or what Rose wore, as both were far too improper.
When she finished, Mrs. Boyd sighed. “What a wonderful night you must have had. I imagine it was even better than what you read in those books of yours.”
Sophie wasn’t sure how her experience compared to her books, but one part of it was far too much like the book Ellie had given her, which she had yet to finish, so she avoided responding, insteaddescribing the skating.
“My lady, you describe your activities so well, I feel as if I were there.” Mrs. Boyd paused, her smile disappearing. When next she spoke, her voice was significantly softer. “The parish has a number of orphans who would love being told a story by you. I don’t know if it’s allowed, but I know they would welcome a visit, if you were so inclined.”
At the cook’s hopeful expression, Sophie’s heart warmed. “I would be very willing. I’m sure I can arrange with Lady Sommerset to visit them. How old are they?”
“They’re a mixed lot of boys and girls, the youngest but three and the oldest being nine. He’s to go to work in the spring.”
“Then I shall think of a story I know that is just right for them.”
Mrs. Boyd’s eyes watered. “You truly are an angel, my lady.”
Embarrassed by the praise, Sophie lifted her cup and finished her tea. “I’d best return upstairs.”
“Oh, of course, my lady.” Mrs. Boyd rose, looking over at the table where the pig had been cut apart. “And I best get back to preparing the evening meal. You go and learn a lot.”
Sophie didn’t have a chance to nod before Mrs. Boyd was off to the fireplace.
Now was the perfect time to find Mrs. Kingman and discuss her goals for this term, or rather her reading goals. She was sure what her goal was regarding Lord Tamworth. What she wished to do was avoid him for the next fortnight while he was here. But knowing what Rose planned for the man—or rathernotknowing what she had planned, but knowing that it wouldn’t be pleasant—Sophie felt honor bound to forewarn him. But how?
Chapter Seven
“Ilook forwardto our conversation on Friday. Remember, you must read at least one of the three works to fully participate.” Christopher rose from his wingback chair, anxious to return to the study where the instructional staff prepared and relaxed. Having eight women staring at him as if he were a bowl of barberry ice cream was unnerving. He’d barely kept his focus.
Two ladies had started forward when his brother stepped in their path. “No more questions for today. Remember, you are here to study, and I suggest you start your reading this evening.”
After the last lady filed out of the “conversation area,” an opening among the stacks of books with a set of chairs in a semicircle and one chair facing the rest, Andrew turned back to him. “I don’t believe that’s happened here before. I suggest we talk to the other faculty about how it should be handled.”
“Are all the faculty married?”
Andrew frowned for a moment. “I do think they are. Maybe we could let it be known that you’re betrothed.”
“Betrothed? To whom?”
Andrew shrugged as he leaned against a bookcase. “Does it matter? We can set it about as a rumor until someone proves it false. I’ll talk to Amelia about starting that.”
Christopher shook his head even as he grinned. “Sometimes,brother, your mind goes in directions I never expect.”
“You mean starting a rumor.”
“Yes, that, as well as investing in trade and covering up Father’s debt.”
Andrew jerked away from the bookcase. “You know about that?”
