“A most thoughtful one. Lady Fairhart suggested she attend the lecture series at the Royal Institution. Something about broadening one’s circle of acquaintance.” Lady Collingsworth smiled. “My niece met a very eligible baronet there last week.”
Sophia sipped her tea and stayed silent. The irony of hearing her own advice praised while sitting in the drawing room of a man she had agreed to help find a wife was not lost on her.
“I think it’s terribly romantic.” Mrs. Stanton sighed. “A mysterious benefactress helping lonely hearts find their match. Like something from a novel.”
“Romantic or not, she certainly knows her business.” Lady Blackwell’s gaze swept the room. “However, I wonder if she might turn her talents to some of the ladies present. Heaven knows some could use the help.”
Her eyes lingered on Sophia just long enough to make her meaning clear.
“Indeed.” Miss Stanton set down her cup with a delicate clink. “It must be difficult, Lady Sophia, watching so many of your contemporaries marry while you remain unattached. How many seasons has it been now?”
The room went quiet. Sophia felt the weight of every gaze, the subtle shift as the other ladies waited for her response.
“Seven.” She met Miss Stanton’s eyes without flinching. “But I have found that quality matters more than speed in such matters. Some matches made in haste unravel just as quickly.”
Miss Stanton’s smile hardened. “How philosophical.”
“Sophia has always been wise beyond her years.” Alice’s voice cut through the tension. “Now, Lady Blackwell, you must tell us about your gardens. I hear your roses won a prize at the county fair.”
The conversation shifted. Sophia caught Alice’s eye and mouthed a silent thank you. Alice responded with a barely perceptible nod.
When tea concluded, Sophia excused herself with murmured apologies about needing air. She slipped from the drawing room and wandered the halls of Heatherwell Hall, her footsteps echoing against marble floors.
She found herself in the portrait gallery without quite meaning to arrive there.
Generations of Grays stared down from gilded frames, their faces stern and proud. Sophia walked the length of the gallery, studying each portrait, searching for traces of Edward in the features of his ancestors.
A small figure stood at the far end, motionless before a large canvas.
“Oliver?”
The boy turned. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Sophia crossed the distance between them and crouched to his level. “What is it, darling? What has upset you?”
Oliver pointed at the painting. Two young men stood side by side, dressed in hunting clothes, their poses formal, but theirexpressions warm. One had Edward’s sharp jaw and serious eyes. The other had a softer face, a gentler smile.
“That’s my papa.” Oliver’s voice wobbled. “And Uncle Edward. They were young.”
Sophia studied the portrait. Leonard and Edward, captured in a moment before grief and duty and estrangement had carved a vast distance between them.
They looked happy. They looked like brothers who loved each other.
“They were.” She wrapped an arm around Oliver’s shoulders. “Your papa was very handsome. You look just like him.”
“I miss him.” The tears spilled over now, tracking down Oliver’s cheeks. “I miss Mama, too. I don’t want to forget what they looked like.”
“You won’t forget.” Sophia pulled him close, letting him bury his face against her shoulder. “This portrait will help you remember. And I will help you remember. Whenever you want to talk about them, I will be here.”
Oliver clung to her, his small body shaking with sobs. Sophia held him and stroked his hair and let him grieve, her own heart breaking for this child who had lost so much.
“Master Oliver?” Mrs. Palmer’s voice echoed from the gallery entrance. “There you are. I have been searching everywhere.”
Oliver pulled back, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Sophia smoothed his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Go with Mrs. Palmer,” she said softly. “We will talk more later. I promise.”
He nodded and trudged toward his nursemaid with his shoulders slumped. Mrs. Palmer shot Sophia a grateful look before leading him away.
