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A servant rang a gong with a muffled striker, and James held out his hand. “Will you allow me to lead you into supper, Miss Harcourt?”
Sophy hesitated. He seemed a pleasant enough gentleman. She liked his smile, and she wondered why there was that hint of sadness in his eyes. She decided there was no harm in taking him up on his request, even if he was the appalling Digby’s brother.
She placed her gloved fingers in his, “Thank you, I would like that.”
James was easy to speak to and she relaxed further. Digby eventually grew bored and wandered off, but not before he had sent a few pointed barbs her way. She had ignored them, but James must have noticed because after his brother had left, he asked her if she had done something to break Digby’s heart.
“He’s behaving in the way he does when he wants to pay someone back for some slight. I wondered if you had crushed his hopes.”
He gave her a quizzical smile. On the surface his words could have been taken as simple banter, and yet there was an earnestness in his expression that invited her to take their acquaintance deeper if she so desired. Sophy might have smiled back and skated over the surface, but the thought of a connection beyond the superficial tempted her. She did not have many real friends in London society. There was Adam, if one could call him a friend, and Lucy and Charlotte Harding, but that was all.
“I knew your brother when I was younger,” she said, taking that first cautious step. “My father was the estate manager at Pendleton Manor, and your brother and Harry Baillieu were friends. There was a falling out between them and I found myself mixed up in it. Your brother has not forgotten it seems, even if I wish to.”
He stared at her, his eyes full of emotion, though she didn’t understand why, except that she had said something that threw him off balance.
“I won’t ask you more,” he promised. “I have no right. Thank you for telling me that much.”
He seemed to be particularly intuitive … and kind. His kindness almost undid her but she forced the prickle of tears back and gave him a grateful smile. Suddenly she noticed Mrs Harding frowning at her, beckoning her across the room.
“My chaperone wishes to see me,” she said, rising. “I must go.”
James stood up too. “Please, introduce me to her,” he said, a determined note in his voice.
There seemed no reason not to. The introduction went smoothly—James was polite and Mrs Harding clearly found him acceptable. The evening had been an interesting one, and although seeing Digby again had upset her at first, meeting James had made up for it.
After they left the ball, and were tucked up in Sir Geoffrey’s coach, her chaperone was more forthcoming about the matter. “You could do worse than that gentleman, Sophy. Clever girl.”
Before Sophy could protest, Lucy spoke up, stifling a yawn. “I heard whispers that Lord Abbott was afflicted with some tragedy. Wasn’t his heart broken, just like Sophy’s?”
Charlotte sat up now, her eyes bright. “Oh, that would make it the perfect match, Mama!”
Her mother shushed them both, but Sophy felt her speculative gaze throughout the remainder of their journey.
Later, in her bed, Sophy wondered if she had made a mistake in confiding in James Abbott. He was Digby’s brother after all. She had not always been a good judge of character, but she was better at it now. She decided the two brothers were not the least bit alike.
Had James really suffered a broken heart? It made sense that he had, as they were so drawn to each other. Perhaps they could be friends, the sort of friends she had once been with Harry, only without the promises and the lies. The idea comforted her, and she slept better than she had in weeks.
“Sophy? Sophy! Lord James Abbott is here.” Susan was bending over her, shaking her in a manner that was far from gentle.
Sophy’s eyes shot open. “Here?” she repeated in astonishment.
Her grandmother laughed. “I was surprised too, my love. Evidently, Sir Geoffrey’s sister provided him with our address when he called on her earlier. I let you sleep in because I had no idea we would have a gentleman knocking on our door at this hour. But now he is here and I think you should rise as soon as possible.”
“What does he want?” Sophy asked, still feeling flushed and sleepy.
“He wants to take you riding in Hyde Park,” she said. “He has his curricle because he wasn’t sure you had a mount.” She looked meaningfully at her granddaughter. “A very thoughtful gentleman, as well as a dashing one.”
“I met him last night. He is nice.”
“Nice,” Susan said with a teasing smile. She walked over to Sophy’s closet, inspecting her clothing. “You don’t have much time. Perhaps this? It is simple and the weather seems clement. You can wear the black velvet spencer over it.”
Sophy allowed herself to be persuaded into the gown chosen by her grandmother. She had rather a lot of new gowns now, some sewn by her grandmother’s hand and others Sir Geoffrey had purchased for her. Sophy would have refused such generous gifts, but he seemed so pleased with himself she always ended up accepting them.
She was beginning to feel like she was his granddaughter, though Susan assured her she was not.
As she dressed and her grandmother helped with her hair, she had just enough time for a sip of tea and a bite of toast. A short time later she was in the parlour, curtseying to James while he bowed.
“I’m sorry to call on you so early,” he said. “I offered to come back at a more civilised hour, but your grandmother insisted I stay.”
