“My mother has arrived!”
Sophie lowered her tea to its saucer as Amelia burst into the room.
“Did you hear me, Sophie? My mother is here at Garland Hall!” Eyes wide with panic, Amelia dropped down onto the seat beside Sophie, panting, which suggested she’d sprinted from somewhere to reach her.
“Your mother is here at Garland Hall?”
“Yes!” Amelia squealed. “And she is in your pretty blue parlor with Stephen and Letty.”
“Well,” Sophie said, regaining her feet. “Come along, then, and we shall see what she wants.”
“It cannot be good, can it?” Amelia whispered, looking terrified.
“We won’t know until we ask her,” Sophie added, sounding more confident than she actually felt. Amelia’s mother was terrifying. “Come along.” She held out her hand to Timmy.
“Hello. Have you eaten all the biscuits yet, my love?” Patrick asked, entering before they could leave the room. He then leaned down to kiss her.
“Hello, Patrick,” Timmy said, waving to one of his favorite people.
“I bet you ate all the biscuits,” Patrick said, picking up her brother as he ran to him.
“We are panicking, Patrick,” Amelia said.
“Why?” he asked, taking Sophie’s hand.
The man was so much more than she ever expected to have in her life. Yes, he could be ruthless and liked things his way, but he was also kind and loving, and he treated Timmy like his own son. Sophie fell more in love with him every day.
“My mother has arrived here. She is in Sophie’s favorite parlor with Stephen and Letty. I was too scared to enter,” Amelia rushed to say.
“Excellent,” Patrick said, smiling. “It is time she came about.”
“Came about?” Amelia shrieked. “My mother will never do that. She’s rude and belligerent, and those are her good qualities!”
“Calm down,” Patrick ordered. “You are safe and among friends, and her bad behavior will not be tolerated here. I am the only one allowed to do that. Stop wringing your hands now,Amelia. Come, we will see what is going on.” He started to walk from the room, towing Sophie behind him, with Timmy’s arms wrapped around his neck like a monkey.
“Your mother loves you,” Sophie said. “Don’t forget that.”
“It terrifies me to think of Stephen in the same room as her,” she said in a wobbly voice. Clutching Sophie’s spare hand, she followed Patrick as he led the small procession down the stairs.
Amelia froze on the bottom step as she heard raised voices. Patrick tapped on the door.
Stephen appeared first and moved to Amelia’s side
“It is all right. Lady Carstairs and I have had a long talk with your mother, and she has consented to our betrothal.”
“She did?” Amelia whispered.
“What? You’re getting married?” Sophie gasped. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s customary to ask the guardian for permission first, my love,” Patrick said.
“B-but you’re always arguing… or laughing,” Sophie added, looking from Stephen to Amelia.
“It’s called love,” Stephen said. “And you and Patrick were too busy with each other to notice what was blossoming between us. Now come along.” He held out his hand to Amelia.
“But is she angry, Stephen?” she asked, and Sophie could hear the fear in her voice.
“No,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Sophie had never seen them like this before. The kissing and endearments—it was a shock. “She and Letty are talking, and your mother appears to be listening.”
