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Sophy gave a hiccup. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse from emotion. “The-the dress, the invitation … it was all for nothing …” The tears had made a large damp patch on her grandmother’s bodice.

“And I would do it again, despite the outcome not being what we’d hoped for.” Susan said fiercely. She stroked Sophy’s hair from her face, the pale strands stuck to her skin by her salty tears. “I enjoyed every moment of it.” Her grandmother stared down at her, as if about to say something else, and then shook her head. “Wash your face and go to bed, my love. You are exhausted and so am I. I will send Nelly up to you with a mug of hot chocolate. In the morning we’ll talk again.”

What was there to talk about? “I wish I could feel angry,” she said. “I wish I could rage and scream and shake my fists. I should be angry, but I just feel empty.”

“I will be angry for you, my dear,” her voice was as wobbly as Sophy’s. “I will rage for you.”

Sophy was sure that she wouldn’t sleep a wink, the scene from the ball echoing in her head, all the words spoken and left unspoken.

She had never betrayed him. She had waited for him and he hadn’t come. When he said she was married and she’d denied it, he’d called her a liar. After that it was as if she had been shocked into silence and every callous word he spoke only made matters worse.

But even if she had spoken, said all the things she now wished she’d said, it wouldn’t have mattered. He was engaged and no words could have changed that. The life she had believed was hers had been taken from her and given to someone else. Harry had done that. She’d been right to doubt him, and if she didn’t still love him then she might have hated him, but sadly she couldn’t turn on and off her emotions quite as easily as him. She loved him and she may well love him for the rest of her life. That was Sophy’s last thought before she fell asleep.

When she woke it was morning. A new day, she thought, rising her head from the pillow. She had not seen Harry for three years before last night but she had always believed he was still hers. And now, today, this new day, she knew differently.

It was truly her first day with

out Harry.

Sophy came downstairs. Even though she’d have preferred to stay in bed with the covers over her head, her grandmother had insisted she make an appearance. Sophy’s body ached and her throat was raw, while her eyes were red and swollen. She felt like the victim of some terrible illness, and looked it, and apart from brushing her hair and tying it back in a simple chignon, she didn’t care.

But her grandmother had given her two days and two nights to expel her grief and not a minute more. She was right to do so. Although her heart was broken and she felt as if she was barely there, Sophy knew she must now put one foot in front of the other. She must learn to live again.

“There you are!” Susan was busy sewing what looked to be a black velvet spencer, something to be worn over one’s gown in the chilly weather. Her eyes turned sharp, examining Sophy minutely, before she nodded. “You still look pale, but better than yesterday, and much better than the day before. I hope you will learn to smile again, my love, because I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Sophy repeated, without any interest, and sat down on the sofa.

“Sir Geoffrey is coming for lunch so that we can discuss our next move. He seems quite determined that your story should end happily, while I refuse to allow you to be wasted on someone not worthy of you. A suitable match, that’s what we need.”

“A suitable match?” Sophy repeated again, as if her grandmother was speaking a foreign language. “But Harry is already engaged! I was there when it was announced.” Her voice broke and she bit her lip, refusing to let herself weep any more.

“I am fully aware of that, Sophy, and there’s no need for sarcasm.”

Sophy swallowed, tried to speak, swallowed again. “Forgive me, Grandma.”

Her grandmother sighed. “I do forgive you. I understand why you are upset, Sophy. I was young once too. Your grandfather was the love of my life …” She looked wistful for a moment. “Although you probably don’t believe it, there can be more than one love in your life, my dear. Some big and some small, and some wildly passionate and some more comfortable.” She must have seen her words weren’t sinking in to Sophy’s head. “Never mind that. All you need to remember is that Harry Baillieu is no longer in your world, and you must accept it. He is to marry Lady Evelyn Rowe, and you can be sure Sir Arbuthnot will never allow that golden pigeon to fly away.”

The way she spoke Sir Arbuthnot’s name struck Sophy and for a moment she put aside her misery to ask, “You hate Sir Arbuthnot, don’t you?”

“After what he did to your father? Yes, I do hate him. We may not have been the best of friends, your father and I, but he did not deserve such treatment. And as your doting grandmother it is my duty to hate Harry too for being so stupid as to put you aside.”

Sophy almost smiled.

Her grandmother’s eyes glittered. “I’d hoped he was different. You seemed to think so well of him, but most young men only think with what’s inside their britches. Once you were out of sight you were out of mind, Sophy.”

Any desire she had to smile was gone. “Someone told him I was married. I imagine it was Sir Arbuthnot, and afterwards Harry thought I had cast him aside. But I don’t understand why he wouldn’t speak to me and discover the truth. I don’t understand why he tossed me aside for a woman like Lady Evelyn Rowe.”

A woman with blood, beauty and blunt, she reminded herself. If it was anyone else but Harry maybe she would understand, but he had never seemed to care for such things.

Her grandmother wasn’t waiting to hear her arguments on Harry’s behalf. “There are plenty of other young gentlemen to be had, and also some not so young ones. You are a beautiful girl with a sweet nature, and many of those gentlemen would be only too happy to marry you despite your lack of fortune. Sir Geoffrey believes we can get more than one good offer for your hand.”

Sophy shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t want to be taken to market like your best cow, Grandma!” she said in bewilderment.

Susan shook her head. “My dear, how do you expect to live your life? I know teaching children is your passion, but how do you expect to make an income from that and remain free of the poorhouse? At the moment you can get by, because you are living with me, but I will not be here forever. One day you will be on your own. Or do you intend to move in with your Aunt Anna?”

Sophy shuddered. “No, I do not.”

“Then what will you do?”

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