The remainder of the performances passed quickly. There were many Sophie enjoyed and only a couple she’d rather have avoided. When Helena retook the stage, Sophie relaxed into her chair, closed her eyes, and basked in the unrivalled delight of her perfection.
Afterward, the guests were invited to partake in refreshments and mingle. Nicholas escorted Sophie and her mother to the drinks table, and Sophie helped herself to a glass of cool, tart lemonade. She stood to the side as she sipped, hiding her amusement at the fact that her mother had opted for the punch, which smelled strongly of wine.
Lady Carlisle had always enjoyed a drink or two.
When her glass was empty, she set it down and was about to start a conversation with her mother about an upcoming ball when the woman in question exclaimed that Lady Wembley was summoning her and hurried away.
Nicholas ducked his head, his breath whispering over the shell of Sophie’s ear. “How long must we stay before we can make our escape?”
She laughed. “It’s just as well you don’t regularly attend the balls of the marriage mart. You wouldn’t have the patience for them.”
“Hey now, that’s not fair. I love to dance. It’s just standing around and talking about nothing for the sake of propriety that confounds me.”
He stiffened beside her.
“Is something wrong?” Sophie asked.
Before he had the chance to reply, a familiar figure emerged from behind a lady in a rather large hat and smiled at Sophie.
“Good afternoon, Lady Sophie,” Mr. Garfield said, his brown eyes warm and open. “Your playing was lovely.”
Sophie’s spirits lifted. “Thank you, Mr. Garfield. That’s very nice of you to say.”
She had always been prone to falling for flattery. But wasn’t everyone? Who didn’t want to be told how talented and wonderful they were?
“I mean every word.” His earnest expression supported this.
“Lady Sophie.” This voice was rough and masculine, belonging to a distinguished but equally rugged man. Colonel Moore. He bowed to her as he stopped beside Mr. Garfield. “I’ve always appreciated music, and besides that of our especially skilled hostess, your performance tonight was the one that moved me most.”
Her heart gave a little flutter and her cheeks burned—no doubt turning the color of ripe strawberries. When thecolonel focused those emerald-green eyes on her, any sensible thoughts fled her mind.
“Thank you, Colonel. That means more than I can say. I practice frequently, and it’s reassuring to know that it isn’t in vain.” Gosh, could she sound any more ninny-headed? “Do you have a favorite instrument?”
He tilted his head, becoming thoughtful. “I enjoy many instruments. The piano is one of my favorites, but I must admit to also having a fondness for Irish fiddle music. I know that may give away my humble background, but I find it uplifting.”
Sophie beamed. “Fiddle music is such good fun. I don’t know how to play it, but I do enjoy listening to it when the opportunity arises.” Which, admittedly, wasn’t often because the establishments she frequented didn’t play music that most would consider lower class.
Nicholas nudged her arm, but she ignored him.
“Do you play an instrument yourself, Colonel?” she asked.
With a self-deprecating smile, he replied, “I’m afraid not. I had piano lessons when I was younger, but they never stuck.”
“Lady Sophie,” Nicholas muttered. “Your mother is trying to get your attention.”
Sophie glanced over, but she didn’t have time to verify that Nicholas was correct before he tugged at her elbow and she was forced to murmur farewells to Mr. Garfield and Colonel Moore.
“Stop manhandling me,” she hissed as he guided her across the room. “What is so urgent?”
“You’ll have to ask your mother,” he gritted out.
As they approached Lady Carlisle, her mother’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you marching over here so purposefully?”
Sophie huffed. “Mr. Blackwell was of the opinion you were summoning us.”
Lady Carlisle’s forehead furrowed. “No. You seemed to have things in hand.“
Sophie glared at Nicholas. “What are you about?”
