Miss Souter was Mama’s own maid, only deployed for the younger sisters on important occasions. This additional attention, and the more elaborate style Souter deemed appropriate, meant that Sophia was the last to be ready. Mama and her sisters were waiting for her on the landing, for it was absolutely necessary that they go down to the breakfast parlour together, for moral support. Sophia had never thought muchabout this habit, but now she wondered how it would feel if she were obliged to go everywhere by herself. As she would if she were married, she supposed. What a strange thought!
Lord Daniel was already in the breakfast parlour. He rose as they entered, and there was that odd expression again as he saw them. What could it mean?
For a moment, no one spoke. She thought he would speak first, but it seemed he had the same thought for he merely smiled, a slightly hesitant smile ranging over the five of them, and not settling on Sophia herself. Fortunately, Mr Payne was also there and had also risen at their entrance.
“Mrs Merrington, good morning!” he said cheerfully, pulling out a chair for her. “Pray sit here. And Miss Sophia… there is a chair beside Lord Daniel. Miss Merrington… Miss Augusta… Miss Maria…”
He pulled out a chair for each of them with ostentatious courtesy, then himself fetched the coffee pot from the sideboard, pouring for everyone before taking his own seat again. Mr Hammond watched this performance with an expression of surprise, but said nothing. Sophia was surprised too. What did he mean by such attentions? If there were any need for a chair to be held for her, it was the footman’s duty to do so, and Froggett would pour coffee. It was bizarre.
But Lord Daniel was smiling at her, a full-hearted smile now, and so all thought of Mr Payne’s behaviour flew out of her head.
After breakfast, the rain being too heavy to permit a walk outdoors, the sisters undertook to show Lord Daniel the principal rooms in the house. He accepted this with great good humour, tucking Sophia’s arm proprietorially in his and murmuring‘Most impressive’and‘Very beautiful’at regular intervals.
They came in time to what was known as the Chinese Room, which housed a collection of objects acquired by a Merringtonancestor on a visit to China. Mr Payne had not expressed any great admiration for this room, merely saying that it was of a style no longer much in vogue, but the cabinets of curiosities and great lacquered urns attracted Lord Daniel’s attention, and he wandered about examining everything for some time.
Sophia stood at the far end, gazed through the window at the lake.
“What is so fascinating out there?” Lord Daniel said, coming to stand beside her.
“Mr Payne’s orangery,” she said at once. “This window will become a door, and beyond it will be the bridge over the river which is also a gallery… and a ballroom.” She shivered in delight. “At the far end, just on that rise beyond the lake, will be the orangery.”
He laughed. “As if the house is not large enough already. An orangery, I grant you, is an elegant addition to the garden, but a gallery and ballroom? Are there not rooms enough for dancing?”
She stared at him, shocked. “There are rooms, of course, but none large enough for more than a dozen couples or so, and what is the use of that?”
“The entrance hall is large enough,” he said.
“Oh yes, but then one would have late arrivals disrupting everything, and there are the marble tiles to be considered. One would need to lay a wooden floor and imagine the inconvenience. Every great house should have a ballroom, Lord Daniel, and in the long spells between balls, it is a quiet gallery where one may take one’s exercise in inclement weather and keep all the dreadful old portraits of bewigged ancestors that no one wants in the drawing room.”
“The attic is the place for the portraits, and is useful for indoor exercise, too. My brothers and I practise our fencing there.”
“But one cannotdancein attics,” she said with asperity. “Where do you dance at Pentavon Castle?”
“At the assembly rooms in Gloucester, on those occasions when a little jigging about is unavoidable.”
“Was the jigging about unavoidable at Marshfields, too?” she said acidly. “What a pity you were so inconvenienced.”
He reddened, realising his mistake. “Oh well… that was different, you know.”
“Was it indeed,” she said flatly. “That is a relief to my mind.”
“Of course it was!” With a quick glance around the room, seeing her sisters at the far end of it and proceeding through the door to the library, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. In a lowered voice, he murmured, “It was very different, Miss Merrington, for you were there.”
It was Sophia’s turn to blush, and although she could not quite forgive him for despising dancing quite so thoroughly, she was slightly mollified.
The ladies all retired early to dress for dinner, gathering in Sophia’s room, together with Souter and Kitty, to decide how Sophia should be arrayed. Several gowns were laid out on the bed, and they settled down for a long discussion on the relative merits of each.
After only a few minutes, a tap on the door revealed the duchess’s own lady’s maid, Allen, bearing a shimmering cream silk gown that brought an appreciative‘Oooh!’from all present.
“Beg pardon, ma’am,” she said in her soft Cheshire accent, “but her grace wondered if Miss Sophia might like to wear this tonight, bein’ as how it would suit her so well and her grace still bein’ in black.”
She held the gown against her, setting the spangles on the spider-gauze over-gown sparkling. Around the bodice, sleeves and hem, more spangles shimmered, and intricate stitchery proclaimed the work of one of London’s finest modistes.
“Oh, Mama, may I?” Sophia breathed. “For I have nothing so fine… such beautiful work.”
“Aye, his grace insists that her grace only has the best,” Allen said with pride. “This was new last year, and her grace has only worn it the once.”
“Try it on, dear,” Mama said, beaming with delight.
