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Henry scoffed.
“That didn’t sound like a no to me, boy.”
“She’s attractive,” he said vaguely.
“She also works for us,” I replied gently, looking at him pointedly. “It’s not a good idea, and you know that.”
Because she was not Camilla, like everyone else thought she was.
That was opening a can of worms.
It was also why I knew that kissing her was a terrible idea.
Sophie was absolutely the kind of woman one could fall in love with if they weren’t paying attention.
I didn’t need to deal with that.
Henry glared at me. “Anyone would think that you’re interested in her.”
“Oh, stop being so bloody childish,” Grandma snapped, shoving sugar into her cup with vigour. “The pair of you are bickering over that woman like she’s the last crème egg in July. You sound frigging ridiculous, and if you continue, I shall bang your heads together like the rocks they are.”
I wasn’t fighting over her.
Given that she’d kissed me, I thought I was rather doing my brother a favour by reminding him it wasn’t a good idea to pursue her.
Not that I could tell him that. I wasn’t sure he would appreciate it.
We all turned towards the door at the sound of Rupert and Sophie talking. Had it already been thirty minutes? Or had she somehow managed to wrangle enough sanity to show up early?
“That’ll be my cue,” I said, walking in that direction.
Henry muttered something, but I didn’t hear it. It didn’t behove me at all to respond to him either way, so I brushed it off and followed Rupert and Sophie to the drawing room.
“Your Grace, Miss Hopkins is here to see you,” Rupert said, stepping aside.
“Ah, Rupert, thank you. Do come in, Miss Hopkins,” Mum responded. “I’m looking forwards to hearing your progress on the arrangements.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” Sophie replied without a hint of nerves. “It’s been… a journey.”
I caught Rupert’s eye and approached.
“Lord Hugo for you, Your Ladyship.”
Mum looked over at me. “What is it? I’m busy.”
“I’ve been assisting with the arrangements,” I said smoothly. “Perhaps I could join.”
Mum glanced at Sophie, then shrugged one shoulder. “Come and sit down, then, darling.”
I slipped into the room and sat down to the side in one of the armchairs and looked at Sophie. She was studiously avoiding my gaze, and I couldn’t help but greet her with a, “Good morning, Miss Hopkins.”
Sophie swallowed and offered me the briefest of glances. “Lord Hugo. Good morning.” She cleared her throat and pulled a sheet of paper out of her folder, which she handed to Mum. “The cake has been ordered and confirmed with Kellie after a minor miscommunication,” Sophie said, looking serenely at her.
She didn’t look hungover in the slightest.
I was impressed.
“Miscommunication?” Mum asked. “Wasn’t she your first point of contact?”
