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Or perhaps, she thought, after listening to their barrage of whispered questions, she was just more exciting than their other acquaintances right now. Like a rogue Cuckoo that had somehow found its way in amongst the doves and pigeons.
“The nerve!” Charlotte huffed. “For him to make those promises to you and then break them. Why, I would never forgive a man who did that to me.”
Her sister nodded in agreement. They both turned to Sophy to see her reaction.
She hadn’t realised they already knew everything. It was nice that they were so sympathetic, but Sophy decided that, for the sake of her sanity, she would need to pretend her heart wasn’t quite as shattered as it was. She soon changed the subject to the weather, always a good standby.
The picnic was in the countryside on the outskirts of London, and riding there and back made for a long, tiring day. Several gentlemen seemed inclined to seek her company and she wondered if they too knew her story. If they did know then she doubted her grandmother would get the flurry of proposals for her hand that she was hoping for. Or indeed any at all.
Sophy looked up at the sky, which was very blue for April, although the air was still cold. They were lucky the weather had been so agreeable, but if it had not there had been other alternatives to the picnic. The fact that the weather was on her side, and her companions were both friendly and interesting, and her stomach was full of good food, it all helped. Perhaps she wasn’t entirely broken after all.
The thought of her spirits rallying again might at present be a shaky prospect—she felt as wobbly as a newborn foal—but she would get stronger. She was strong. One had only to think of all she had been through.
She’d wasted three years believing that Harry would find her, save her, pick her up in some ridiculously heroic manner, and ride off with her to Pendleton, where they would live happily ever after. And she’d held onto that belief despite Sir Arbuthnot and what he had done. Despite her father dying in such dreadful circumstances. Despite Harry not making the slightest effort to seek her out before he became engaged to another woman.
It was as if she had been in a dream. Now she was taking her first tentative steps away from slumber, and although the real world may be cold and foreign and rather unfriendly, at least it was real.
Perhaps, Sophy thought, this was a good day and tomorrow she would be down in the dumps again. But she would keep trying to pull herself free of her aching heart and Harry’s perfidy. She was strong, and she was proud. Sophy wasn’t about to be trampled on again. Even if things didn’t work out the way Grandma hoped, at least she could show everyone that she was willing to stand up and be a more resilient person.
“We have a soiree in two days,” Mrs Harding informed her in her chilly voice. “We will call for you, Sophy.”
Cold voice and colder eyes. Sophy thanked her all the same. “I am grateful, Mrs Harding.”
“Don’t be.” The woman leaned closer, flicking a glance to the other side of the coach, where Lucy and Charlotte dozed. “Despite the money my brother is throwing at this foolish scheme of his, I cannot ignore my misgivings. My chaperonage of you may well damage the reputations of my daughters, and their chances of making a good match. If it was up to me …” She bit off whatever she was going to say.
“I am aware of that,” Sophy responded dully.
“My brother knows I have debts to pay,” she went on. “He knows I cannot say no. Therefore I will do everything possible to see you are wed by the end of the Season. Before, if possible. It is in both our best interests.”
“What if no one …?”
“Oh there will be someone,” was Mrs Harding’s response. “You are a handsome girl and when you are not sulking your manner is pleasing. Someone will come along. A gentleman with a small fortune, some looks, a mild disposition—I think your grandmother would wish for kindness in your husband rather than desperate passion. We have had quite enough of that.”
Sophy would not argue with her there.
“Whoever falls for you, Sophy, you should welcome them with open arms.”
She may not be saying what Sophy wanted to hear, but at least she was being honest. Sophy told herself she was grateful; she had had enough lies. And yet the truth hurt.
She stepped down from the coach and walked to the doorstep, the breeze whipping around her and sending her skirts fluttering.
Today had shown her that she could still find some pleasure in living her life. Just feeling the sunshine on her hair and breathing in the scent of trees and gra
ss lifted her spirits. She might feel a little like a wishy-washy watercolour as opposed to a vibrant oil painting, but it was a start.
“Sophy!” She glanced across to the neighbour’s house and smiled. The little girl was waving at her from her bedroom window. She had recovered well and for the past year was back attending the parish school. Sophy’s heart swelled. The child’s parents had informed her how much her teaching efforts had helped their daughter, and assured her that the head teacher of the school would be glad of her help with other pupils. As much as she wanted to, she was yet to make inquiries. She’d found that dressing up and attending fashionable frivolities in the hope of catching a husband didn’t leave much time for anything else.
The soiree was well attended. Many of the wealthy blue bloods were yet to descend on the capital from their country estates, but they soon would. Sir Geoffrey said that in the next month she would notice a great difference in the city, more events being held, more people to meet and more opportunities to dazzle prospective suitors.
“My sister tells me you were quite a hit at the picnic,” he said with satisfaction.
Sophy could have told him what else Mrs Harding said but she didn’t. That conversation was between the two of them.
A quick glance at the guests’ faces—something she was becoming adept at—showed no sign of Harry or Lady Evelyn Rowe. She breathed a sigh of relief, and then saw a face that was familiar. Adam.
He was with an attractive young woman with dark hair who didn’t appear to be overly thrilled to be by his side. Although when Adam spied Sophy, and came to join her, the woman’s eyes followed him and narrowed with something that looked like jealousy.
Adam knew it too. “Ignore her,” he muttered, when he reached Sophy’s side. “That’s what I’m doing. I am pretending she doesn’t exist. That the whole situation is a nightmare and I will wake up soon. With any luck, with someone far more amenable.”
