Dulcet? What did that even mean?
But Sophia was intelligent. Quick witted. Had interest in the world around her. Read a great deal whereas Mara cracking open a book was more accidental in nature.
Her sister was a bit of a pea-hen.
I should live in a constant state of disappointment were that my daughter. Poor Lady Canterbell. Perhaps if Sophia possessed an ounce of Mara’s charm.
Lady Perswick’s exact words, whispered behind the exquisitely painted fan she held to another finely dressed matron of theton.She didn’t even have the decency to wait for Sophia to be out of earshot before relaying her opinion. Was it any wonder that all of Mama’s hopes and dreams were solely focused on Mara? Her sister was held up as an example of everything Sophiashouldbe and was not.
The more Mama insisted, the more her youngest daughter…resisted.
The battle lines had been clearly drawn with no winner in sight.
“Sophia.” Mama took her arm. “You aren’t even trying. Not one gentleman caller this entire Season. No dances at all. You must engage in conversation.”
“I’ve no idea what to say.”
Mama made a puffing sound. “Gentlemen adore speaking about themselves. Encourage them to do so. Then you can merely nod at the appropriate times.”
“Terribly dull.” Sophia lifted her chin. “Should I not share my thoughts? My opinions?”
“I would prefer you do not.” Mama fanned herself. “Gentlemen find your forthright manner far too honest.”
“Honestly is a desirable trait.”
“Not when you are pointing out that an excess of pomade is perfuming the air. Or a straining waistcoat could benefit from being let out and suggesting a tailor.”
“I’m only trying to help. The pomade was overpowering.” Sophia only sought to help Lord Richardson. Several young ladies had whispered complaints that while they liked the viscount, the scent of him was rather off-putting. And in the case of Mr. Soames, well, how could he not notice that the straining of his waistcoat would cause a button or two to pop off?
“Look at Mara.” Mama tilted her head. “See how she pretends great interest in whatever is being said? Blushes in a most ladylike manner? Refrains from unwanted candor?”
“Mara is entirely full of herself.” She waved a hand at her sister, who smiled, head thrown back, as a handsome man spun her about. “It is embarrassing for her to beg dances for me as if I’m some sort of diseased rat who cannot possibly—”
“That is quite enough,” Mama gave a dramatic gasp. “Where do you get such notions? A diseased rat? Who says such things? You’ve become a bluestocking, surrounding yourself with mounds of books. As if finding you a husband will not be difficult enough.”
“I quite agree. Imagine, if I were as dumb as Mara—”
Mama’s fingers bit into her arm. “Silence. I do not know why I was burdened with such an argumentative, unbiddable child. Combative, your father calls you. If I were to tell you the sky was blue, you would say the opposite, merely to spite me.” Her lips drew tight as she plucked at the sapphire bracelet on Sophia’s wrist. “Did I give you permission to borrow this?”
“I thought you had.”
A complete lie. Sophia had snatched the sapphire bracelet fromMama’s jewelry box after seeing how well it went with her gown.
“The clasp is loose. Don’t you dare be careless. I adore this bracelet.” Another puffing noise came from Mama. “I’ve advised your father that we should marry you off to Mr. Hemming and be done with it.”
Sophia’s mouth popped open in horror. “You would not.”
As a threat, Mr. Hemming was a good one. He was a distant cousin of some sort and Papa’s designated heir. Also, he was quite terrible.
Mama’s features were triumphant. “Do not challenge me further. Make some effort. Else you find yourself wed to Mr. Hemming.”
“Mr. Hemming is the unfortunate recipient of a great many warts, Mama. I liken him to a toad.” He also possessed bulging eyes which failed to improve his appearance. Not to mention that he had no personality to speak of.
“An unkind observation. Mr. Hemming is a fine man who any young lady would be pleased to have as a husband.” She raised a brow. “Now, appear welcoming. Attempt to smile. Resolve to make polite conversation.”
Sophia complied, stretching her lips. “I smile. Often. And I do engage others in polite conversation.”
Mama looked down her nose. “There is a reason Lady Stafford’s daughter no longer calls or asks you to walk in the park. Do not for a moment pretend you do not know what I speak of.”
