Sophie rolled her eyes. She knew that time was short.
There was movement in the doorway, and when Sophie glanced up, she saw that Nicholas had entered the room and was in the process of serving himself breakfast. His hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and he wore a blue-and-pink waistcoat she knew Kate would adore.
“He’s a good-looking man,” Lady Wembley said, following Sophie’s gaze. “More than one young lady has set her cap at him, only to be disappointed.”
Sophie turned back to her. “I’m well aware.”
Her mother harrumphed. “Mr. Blackwell has been most attentive.”
A pair of women strolled through the doorway, and one of them—a brunette perhaps ten years older than Sophie—sidled up to Nicholas and looked at him from beneath her lashes.
Sophie narrowed her eyes. How dare others look at him that way when he was supposed to be hers?
But he isn’t, she reminded herself.He’s a free man. He has no duty to you.
Her shoulders slumped.
“Take heart,” Lady Wembley said, refilling her teacup. “Baron Sylvestor also seems to be sniffing around, and he’s certainly the marrying type.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “My niece has her heart set on him, but they grew up together, and I’m certain he views her as a sister. I doubt there’s anything she can do to change that.”
“Your niece?” Sophie thought she recalled who they were referring to, but she wasn’t certain.
“Miss Marianne Bloombury. She’s quite young but very pretty. Blond. Petite. You may have seen her at dinner last night.”
Sophie nodded. She had indeed seen Miss Bloombury and, further, recognized her as the woman whom Baron Sylvestor had seemed entranced by at one of the balls they’d both attended.
Hopefully, Lady Wembley was correct about how Baron Sylvestor viewed Miss Bloombury and Sophie had been mistaken. Otherwise, she might have serious competition for the baron’s affection.
Nicholas pulled a chair out and sat. “Lady Wembley, I must compliment you on your lovely home. I spent yesterday afternoon exploring and was quite impressed, especially by your gardens.”
Lady Wembley preened. “Thank you. Trevor oversees the design of the gardens. It’s a passion of his.”
“I was also impressed.” Baron Sylvestor pulled out the chair between Sophie and Nicholas and sank onto it.
Sophie started. She hadn’t noticed him approaching.
“And, as always,” he continued, “you are the consummate hostess.”
Lady Wembley giggled. “You’re too sweet, my lord. I don’t know where you learned to wield your silver tongue for it surely wasn’t at the same school that taught my Trevor.”
Baron Sylvestor grinned. “I’m afraid to say it was. While Trevor was becoming an expert in botany, I was a layabout, more interested in practicing my social graces.”
Sophie snorted, then covered her mouth, horrified by the undignified sound. Baron Sylvestor winked at her. Nicholas scowled. Sophie tried not to laugh again.
“Have you visited this part of the country before?” Baron Sylvestor asked, directing the question to Lady Carlisle and Sophie.
“I have,” Lady Carlisle replied. “But I don’t believe any of my daughters have been this far north.” She grimaced belatedly, as if remembering too late that Violet had eloped to Gretna Green and definitely had come this far north.
Fortunately, no one commented on the faux pas.
“And do either of you enjoy outdoor pursuits?” The baron cut his sausage, the knife tinkling against the plate. Nicholas’s eyebrow twitched in time with it. “Like most gentlemen, I’ll give hunting a go, but I must admit, I prefer a brisk walk or ride.”
Sophie finished her piece of toast and washed it down with tea. “I enjoy riding. I can’t say I’ve ever had any interest in hunting.”
“No, hunting is a most unladylike activity,” Lady Carlisle agreed. “I am not much for riding, but a stroll through a beautiful garden is always a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.”
“The gardens at Nunhaven are lovelier than most,” Nicholas said, flashing Lady Wembley a wide smile.
“Indeed, they are.” Baron Sylvestor set his cutlery down. “I know them very well from spending days exploring in my youth. If any of you would like a tour and Lady Wembley is otherwise engaged, I would be more than happy to oblige.”
