“Is he indeed?” Sophie smiled at the young man.
“It’s quite true.” The vicar’s chest puffed with pride. “A history of the county.”
“Papa...” Mr. Harrison self-consciously ducked his head. “Mrs. Overtree doesn’t want to hear about that.”
“On the contrary. I think it wonderful.”
“He was going to stay home tonight and work on it,” Mrs. Nelson added. “But I assured him it was no doubt an oversight that his name was not included on the invitation. He thought it would be impolite to presume. Then I reminded him, had not Miss Overtree personally told him her family was expecting him?”
“Indeed I did, Mrs. Nelson,” Kate said. “You are all very welcome.”
Sophie knew that wasn’t wholly true but nodded her agreement.
Across the room, Captain Overtree and his parents approached an elegant blond gentleman. Mrs. Overtree glanced their way and tried to catch her daughter’s eye.
Noticing, Kate’s smile faltered. “Well, if you will excuse us, I see Mamma beckoning. Someone else she wishes Sophie to meet, no doubt. I will look forward to talking with you more later. In the meantime, do enjoy yourselves.”
“I am sure we shall,” the vicar assured her. “Thank you, Miss Overtree.”
His son seemed less convinced.
Heedless, Kate smiled at Mr. Harrison and might have kept standing there had not Sophie gently taken her arm and led her through the milling crowd.
As she and Kate approached the others, Sophie heard Mr. Darby-Wells offer the captain hearty congratulations on his marriage. Then he turned and congratulated Mr. and Mrs. Overtree as well.
When he spied Kate, he smiled at her. “Miss Overtree. What a pleasure to see you again. You are lovelier than ever.”
With a glance at her mother, Kate returned his smile. “Thank you.”
Poor Mr. Harrison, Sophie thought. Mr. Darby-Wells was well-spoken and indeed handsome, with fine features and confident bearing. But when the young dandy bent over her hand, Sophie caught an oily gleam in his eye as his gaze lingered on her bosom—fuller now than it had ever been, though still, she hoped, modest.
Mr. Darby-Wells returned his attention to Kate, asking to dance with her after dinner. She sweetly agreed.
While the two young people talked, Mrs. Overtree stepped between Sophie and Stephen and whispered, “A charming young man, don’t you think?”
“Apparently,” Stephen agreed.
Sophie held her tongue.
At that moment, her attention was captured by Carlton Keith, elegant in evening clothes. There was something different about him.... Then she realized. Both of his sleeves were filled, and a gloved hand protruded from each.
Astonished, Sophie walked over to him. “Mr. Keith! How well you look.”
He grinned at her. “Limbs suit me, don’t you think? Two arms are all the crack these days, so I thought I’d give it a go.”
She returned his grin, then asked, “But how did you manage it?”
“Colonel Horton took me to see a Scottish bladesmith he knows who makes these contrivances. Not bad, ay?”
“It’s very realistic.”
“Made of metal, actually.” He tapped it against a nearby door latch, producing a muffled clank.
The hand was skillfully shaped—and encased in a glove, as it was now, the illusion was convincing.
“Does it... function?” she asked as he stood there, arms at his sides.
“Afraid not. But I wager it’s better than a hook, or an empty sleeve.”
