Damn him.
Yes, Sophie knew that she oughtn’t swear, but some circumstances called for it.
She picked up her song from the beginning and played until Kate returned from putting Oliver down.
“I must return home,” Sophie said. She’d like to invite Kate to join her for a ride but knew her friend wouldn’t leave the house when Oliver was being fussy. She and Theo had gone through a lot before they’d been blessed with their son, and they were both rather attached to him. It was an uncommon stance by societal standards, but Sophie thought it sweet.
Kate escorted her to the door. “I’ll see you again soon, I hope?”
Sophie smiled. “Before the week is out, I’m sure.”
Life could be dreadfully tedious, living alone with her parents. Calling regularly on her friends improved the situation immeasurably.
They said their farewells, and Sophie took the stairs down to where her carriage waited by the roadside. A footman offered his arm, and she allowed him to help her into the carriage. Once inside, she flopped against the padded seat and gazed out the window.
The carriage eased into motion, bumping over the cobblestones as the driver guided the horses to the center of the street.
Many people were out and about. Nicely dressed women with their maids. Clusters of gentlemen who looked bent on causing mischief. A slightly shabby elderly man with the air of a professor—not that Sophie knew any professors, but he gave her that impression.
The journey home was brief, and she hurried inside, freezing when she heard her mother’s voice. Lady Carlisle had once again been inquiring about her opinions on eligible gentlemen this morning, refusing to relent until Sophie escaped to visit Kate. If she came upon her now, no doubt the conversation would resume.
Sophie ducked down a side corridor and waited until her mother’s voice faded, then tiptoed out, hardly daring to breathe as she checked in each direction.
No one was about, so she relaxed and hastened up the stairs. She summoned her maid, Betsy, to assist her in removing her day dress and donning a pale green riding habit.
“Thank the lord that Lady Carlisle allowed Lady Blackwell to design your riding habit this season,” Betsy said briskly, her long blond hair swishing over her shoulder as she smoothed the habit into place. “It suits you much better than that white one did.”
Sophie shuddered. “Truer words were never spoken.”
Troubled by her elder daughters’ scandals, Lady Carlisle had wanted Sophie to look as virtuous as possible when she joined society, so she’d insisted on a collection of white and off-white garments that washed Sophie out and made her look insipid.
Fortunately, her mother admired Kate’s eye for fashion and was beginning to allow Sophie more leeway in her wardrobe choices, provided they were approved by Kate.
Sophie waited while Betsy went to her own quarters to change into a riding habit so she could join her. Ladies like Sophie weren’t permitted to ride on their own. She was lucky to have a maid who enjoyed riding as much as she did.
Once Betsy returned, Sophie led the way out the back to the stables where their personal horses were housed. Her bay mare, Dandelion, was already saddled because Betsy had had the forethought to send one of the footmen out ahead with a message to prepare her for an outing. A stableboy saddled an older mare for Betsy and helped them both into the saddles.
They trotted down the street with Betsy hanging slightly behind Sophie, presumably to give her space. Sophie wouldn’t have minded riding side by side, but some of the snootier members of society may have raised their supercilious eyebrows if she treated a maid too informally.
As they made their way to the park, the sun beamed down, heating the top of her head. Thank goodness she’d worn a bonnet. Her fair skin burned easily.
She turned Dandelion off the road and onto a path through the park. There was no one ahead of her, so she allowed her eyelids to droop and her mind to wander as she relaxed into the moment.
It was rather nice.
The breeze was pleasant, the air smelled of grass, and there was nowhere she needed to be.
Of course, she’d rather race across the countryside with Nicholas at her side, but this was enjoyable in its own way.
“Lady Sophie!”
Her heart jolted, adrenaline flooding her, and she straightened in the saddle, immediately alert. A gentleman sat astride a sleek black gelding perhaps a hundred yards in front of her and slightly to the left.
The brightness of the sun made it difficult to discern his features, but she was almost certain that it was Baron Sylvestor, whom she’d met at a ball earlier in the season.
As she drew nearer, she raised her hand to shield her eyes and peered at him. He had hair the color of a field of wheat, eyes that matched the blue of the sky on a summer day, and a boyish face with a wide smile.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” Sophie said, bobbing her head, since she couldn’t curtsey in her current position atop Dandelion. “It’s a lovely day to be out, isn’t it?”
