The front doors swung open. Hartley, who had traveled ahead to prepare the house, announced the first arrivals with his usual gravity.
“Lady Brimsey and Lady Sophia Readthorpe.”
Edward’s chest tightened. He watched Sophia enter the hall, her traveling dress, a soft shade of green that brought out the color of her eyes, her bonnet framing her face in a way that made his mouth go dry. Lady Brimsey walked beside her, elegant and warm, her smile genuine as she took in the hall’s grandeur.
Oliver made a small noise beside him. Edward felt the boy strain forward, his whole body vibrating with the urge to run.
“Mind your manners.” Edward tightened his grip on Oliver’s shoulder. “We have guests now. You must behave like a young gentleman.”
Oliver stilled. He looked up at Edward with those solemn blue eyes, and for a moment, Edward saw Leonard in them so clearly that it stole his breath.
“Yes, Uncle Edward.”
Sophia approached with her mother. Edward bowed. Lady Brimsey curtsied. And then Oliver stepped forward with the gravity of a diplomat presenting credentials to a foreign court.
He swept into the most elaborate bow Edward had ever witnessed from a child, one leg extended, one arm flourished behind his back, his chin tucked to his chest with exaggerated formality. He held the pose for a full three seconds before rising.
“Welcome to Heatherwell Hall, Lady Sophia.” His voice rang with rehearsed solemnity. “We are most honored by your presence.”
Sophia’s composure cracked. A laugh burst from her, bright and unguarded, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes danced with delight as she looked from Oliver to Edward and back again.
“Why, thank you, Master Oliver.” She sank into an equally elaborate curtsy. “I am most honored to be received with such distinction.”
Oliver’s solemn mask dissolved into a grin. “Did I do it right? Uncle Edward taught me.”
Edward felt heat creep up his neck as Sophia’s gaze found his. “You did it perfectly,” she said, still smiling. “Your uncle is an excellent teacher.”
Something warm unfurled in Edward’s chest. He pushed it aside and turned to greet Lady Brimsey with proper formality.
More carriages arrived in quick succession. Lord and Lady Renwick arrived, followed closely by Mr. and Mrs. Stanton and their daughter, Amelia. The Stantons emerged with the practiced ease of people accustomed to country visits. Edward greeted them with what he hoped passed for warmth, though Miss Stanton’s bright smile and eager conversation made him feel as though he were performing a role in a play he had not rehearsed.
“What a magnificent estate, Your Grace.” Miss Stanton gazed around the entrance hall with appreciative eyes. “The proportions are exquisite. One can see the hand of a master architect.”
“Thank you. The east wing was designed by?—”
Hugo cleared his throat.
“That is to say,” Edward corrected, “we are pleased you find it agreeable. I trust your journey was comfortable?”
The stream of arrivals continued. Viscount and Viscountess Guildthorpe, Alice embracing Sophia the moment propriety allowed, Thomas shaking Edward’s hand with genuine warmth.
Lord Collingsworth and his new wife, the former Lady Kirby, whose match had been one of Lady Fairhart’s triumphs. Sir Edmund Blackwell, a business associate Edward tolerated, and his wife, Lady Blackwell, who had a reputation for sharp observation and sharper gossip.
And then the Marquess of Drakeston.
Edward had invited him at Hugo’s suggestion, a political necessity given their overlapping interests in a proposed railway venture. The man was influential, well-connected, and precisely the sort of guest one needed at a gathering meant to establish social standing.
He was also, Edward noted, watching Sophia with an intensity that made something cold settle in his gut.
Drakeston crossed the hall with the languid confidence of a man who knew his own worth. Silver hair swept back from a hawkish face. Pale eyes that assessed and calculated. A smile that never quite reached beyond his lips.
“Your Grace.” He bowed to Edward. “How gracious of you to include me in your little gathering.”
“Lord Drakeston. Welcome to Heatherwell Hall.”
Drakeston’s gaze slid past Edward to where Sophia stood with her mother. Something flickered across his face, there and gone. “Lady Sophia. Lady Brimsey. What a pleasant surprise to find you here.”
Edward watched Sophia’s reaction. Her spine straightened. Her smile froze into something brittle. Her mother’s hand found her elbow in a gesture that looked like support.
