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By now it was nearly seven o’clock but still light—these longer summer evenings stretched out—and the air was calm and balmy. It had been a delightful day … until it wasn’t.
The two girls were longing to gossip but their mother told them to hush. Sophy let the silence wash over her, sitting back and allowing her thoughts to take her where they willed.
She tried to imagine Harry, her Harry, doing the things that woman had accused him of, and couldn’t. He was not that man. He had put himself into that awful position to set himself and Evelyn free. A last heroic throw of the dice. So what now? Would Harry hurry off to Pendleton to try to persuade his father to agree to his change of wedding plans? And while he was there, was Sophy expected to sit by the window, moping and waiting for him to come calling? Sophy didn’t think she could do that anymore. She had moved on from that girl.
By the time they reached her grandmother’s home in Lambeth she was exhausted.
Mrs Harding hurried them inside. Not only was her grandmother there in the parlour, but so was Sir Geoffrey. They both looked up, and Sir Geoffrey stood, blinking in the lamplight as if he had been dozing.
Mrs Harding launched into a dramatic speech and the first thing she said was, “I told Sophy not to dance the waltz!”
“Sophy danced the waltz?” Susan turned to look at Sophy, and there was that twinkle in her eye. “With James Abbott?”
“No, with Harry Baillieu. And there is going to be the most appalling scandal and I fear Sophy will be caught up in it.”
There was a shocked silence, and then her chaperone began to talk. Sophy wasn’t sure whether it was because Mrs Harding had never liked her, or because she thought Sophy had compromised her own daughters’ reputations. Whatever the reason, Mrs Harding told the tale with relish. How Sophy had waltzed with Harry, and then how Harry’s ‘wife’ arrived with their child. And he hadn’t denied any of the shocking claims she made against him.
“I’m sure if her reputation has been ruined then I cannot be blamed,” she finally drew to a close. “And furthermore—”
Sir Geoffrey held up his hand. “Is Harry Baillieu still engaged to Lady Evelyn?” he asked.
“I believe not,” she said. “The Earl of Albury broke the contract between them rather publicly … after he punched Harry Baillieu in the face.”
Susan gasped. “Where was James while all of this was going on? I was so sure that he was going to propose to you.”
Sophy went to answer but Mrs Harding was there before her. “He said he would call on her in the morning to say goodbye.”
If her grandmother was disappointed she soon moved on. “Do you think Sophy’s reputation might suffer? Her dancing the waltz with Harry?” she asked, exchanging a look with Sir Geoffrey.
Mrs Harding gave an unladylike snort.
“I think,” Sir Geoffrey said robustly, “that everyone will be so busy talking about Harry that Sophy will hardly get a mention.”
By the time Mrs Harding finally left with her daughters, Sophy was dying to put her side of the story.
“Grandma, it isn’t true. Well, not the way Mrs Harding told it. Harry arranged for that woman to appear so that he could break his engagement. He did it on purpose.”
Her grandmother stared at her as if she had run mad, and Sir Geoffrey poured himself a large claret. It took some persuading before the two elderly people believed her, and when they did they were divided about what it would mean for Sophy’s future.
“So will he be calling upon you in the morning?” Susan said. “If a man makes such a grand gesture, one would think he would call as soon as may be.”
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“A gentleman might consider it wiser to stay away. At least for a respectable number of days,” Sir Geoffrey spoke up. “Bad enough that he is at the centre of a scandal, but to draw you into it, Sophy. I would not like to see that.”
“I don’t know what he’s going to do,” Sophy admitted.
“What if he asks you to wait for another three years?” Sir Geoffrey asked sombrely.
She shook her head. “No. I-I can’t. I just can’t.”
After she’d gone up to bed, Susan knocked softly on her door. Her grandmother launched into a speech she had obviously been preparing before she came upstairs.
“Sophy my dear, I think you must not rush into anything with Harry Baillieu. Sir Geoffrey is right. Whether intentionally or not, the man’s reputation is ruined beyond repair, and any contact you have with him will only tarnish yours too. Whatever was he thinking to do something so drastic?”
“He was freeing himself from an engagement in the only way he could without sullying Lady Evelyn’s name,” Sophy reminded her. “He was taking all the blame. He was being a hero. And he was doing it for me.”
“You seem to know him so well,” her grandmother sighed. “Is he really still the same boy he was then? People change, Sophy. I am worried that he is going to break your heart again.”
