But Rhoda had, most surprisingly, found an interesting distraction. Or perhaps the distraction found her.
Lord St. John, on more than one occasion, had sought her out most specifically. He’d danced with her twice at both of the balls and then sat beside her at the recital. Rhoda said he was pleasant and charming. He did not make any demands or promises.
Of course, Rhoda was suspicious of him, believing he’d participated in the details of Sophia’s engagement. But…
It wasn’t every day that a handsome marques singled one out.
He may simply have paid her compliments since she was his brother’s fiancée’s bosom friend. Then again, perhaps he was a little besotted.
The weather had turned dreary, and any light from the windows the following Monday was dismal and filtered. When the storm finally organized itself, the deluge prevented Sophia from venturing out at all. Peaches hated the rain, and Sophia would not leave her alone.
With the marques’ help, Rhoda had, in fact, quickly gotten over the loss of Brookes’ affections.
Wrapped in warm shawls, the two women passed the afternoon in Sophia’s chamber. Once tea was delivered, Sophia locked the door, as always, and tucked her feet beneath herself on a comfortable chair.
“What if it rains on Wednesday?”
“We take umbrellas,” Rhoda said, adding sugar to her cup.
“Of course. But the bread will get wet.” Sophia worried her bottom lip and then turned away from the window to take a better look at her friend. Something was… different. “He’s kissed you, hasn’t he?”
The blush creeping up Rhoda’s neck was a sure sign Sophia had the right of it. “Oh, good Lord, Rhoda, do not be sorry! He is not an enemy! We don’t really know he had anything to do with my engagement!” She grinned, remembering the kiss behind the lion’s cart. “Did you… tingle all over?”
Rhoda sat her tea on the tray and covered her face with her hands. Pulling them down to cover just her cheeks, she peeked out at Sophia. “It was… incredible.”
“Oh dear,” Sophia said. And then an odd notion struck her. “We could become sisters!”
“I dare not even think it. I am so far below him — he cannot possibly be considering me — oh, but Sophia, I never knew!”
“It does complicate matters.” The girls stared at each other, apparently thinking the same thing.
Their recent interactions with gentlemen of theton,had not ended well at all.
“How does one know?” Rhoda moaned. “Cecily was, well, so certain of Lord Kensington’s affection. And you were over the moon to be engaged to Lord Harold.”
And now, all Sophia could think of was Captain Brookes.
But it had been nearly a week since they’d spoken. Had her emotions for her fiancé been so fickle? With Lord Harold, she’d known a tenderness, and an enormous… gratitude?Surely not.Whatever she chose to call it, it was nothing like the euphoric attraction she felt for Captain Brookes.
“I don’t know, she answered. “Is it only an illusion? Is love nothing but an illusion?”
“It can’t be,” Rhoda asserted.
“My mother loved my father, but she also resented him for leaving her penniless.” Sophia had considered this before. “Are there different kinds of love? If I were madly in love and somehow able to marry a man who swept me off my feet, would I love him through the difficult times — hardships and trials? If we had no money to live, could I love him regardless? And if so, for how long?”
Rhoda shook her head, at an obvious loss. “If I were to fall in love and marry the man of my dreams and then later discover that he has been involved in treachery, could I love him still?”
Both girls fell silent at their musings.
Sophia tucked her knees under her chin and sighed. “I hope it doesn’t rain on Wednesday.”
* * *
It did,in fact, rain on Wednesday.
No, itpouredon Wednesday.
Rhoda and Sophia were to walk from Sophia’s house after sharing a light nuncheon with her mother.
