Chapter 31
Standing before her bedchamber mirror, Sophie turned to examine her gown, though her thoughts were far from the image. She ran her hands across her skirts, primped her hair, and straightened her necklace and earrings as energy buzzed through her veins like bees. Sophie could not think of another time when a ball had induced such giddiness, but then no other ball had held the promise of an evening with Mr. Kingsley.
Her thoughts conjured images of their first ball together, and Sophie fairly floated out of her slippers at the chance to capture that magic once more. A ball with Mr. Kingsley.
The strains of a waltz tickled her lips, and she hummed the tune, stepping up to her invisible partner before whisking into a dance. It was a monstrously juvenile thing for her to do, but a burble of laughter attested to the fact that Sophie did not care. No one in her situation could feel anything but exultant, and indulging in a few girlish fantasies was her right as the lovesick fool she was.
The door opened, and Sophie dropped her arms and halted before the intruder witnessed her ridiculous behavior, but no amount of self-control could wipe the grin from her face.
“You are in a good mood,” said Mama, adjusting her earrings as she strode into the bedchamber. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you this excited for a ball.”
Sophie gave a vague wave and turned back to the mirror. “I’ve never had reason before.”
Mama came to stand behind her with a delicate smile. “You do seem quite happy with your Mr. Kingsley.”
A blush stole across Sophie’s cheeks at Mama’s declaration, but she would not deny that she was quite happy and that Mr. Kingsley was “hers” as much as she was “his.”
Mama turned her gaze to Sophie’s gown and her brows pinched, her eyes filling with concern. “Why are you not ready?”
Blinking at Mama, Sophie ran her hands along her silk skirts and gave her gown another glance. “I am.”
Pulling Sophie away from the mirror, Mama circled her, taking in every aspect of her gown and coiffure. “Do you feel so secure in his affection that you needn’t make an effort?”
Sophie patted at the side of her chignon and fiddled with her necklace. “I thought I had.”
Mama’s frown deepened. Sophie’s heart sank, but when Mama met her daughter’s gaze, the lady waved her words away with an apology. “I didn’t mean to upset you, my dear. I can see you attempted to pretty yourself up a bit, but you don’t seem to grasp the importance of looking your best.”
Mama’s light eyes filled with concern as she took Sophie by the hands. With each word, her tone grew more demanding, her hold on Sophie tightening. “The greatest asset a woman has is her looks. Good conversation and shared interests are fine and well, but men are fickle creatures, driven by their desires. No matter how confident you are in securing their affections, they will stray if something more captivating appears before them. It is up to you to enhance that which nature bestowed upon you and do battle with the march of time that slowly steals it away.”
Sophie blinked at her mother, uncertain of which issue to address first, but the words escaped before she had time to think better of them. “You speak as though all men stray.”
Mama straightened, her brows rising. Then with a huffing chuckle, she patted Sophie on the cheek. “You think any husband is faithful to his wife? Or that every paramour remains true?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley—”
Fire flashed in Mama’s eyes, there and gone in a brief spark of anger. Then she released her daughter with a derisive snort. “Those two play the adoring couple in public, but no one is that happy. Mrs. Kingsley has no enticements to capture his attention, and her husband may play the saint, but such men are only more circumspect in their liaisons.”
Sophie tucked her hands behind her, watching Mama with a wary eye. Remaining silent pained her, but there was no good to be had in defending the Kingsleys.
“I’m surprised you do not see it, given how much time you’ve been spending in their company of late.” Mama’s tone was disinterested, but her half-lidded gaze watched Sophie with far too much scrutiny, her posture as rigid as steel. “No doubt you have noticed the little signs of discontent beneath the pleasant facade.”
“I have seen nothing of the sort, Mama. And I would welcome the opportunity to paint and explore the countryside with you—as I have with the Kingsleys—but you have no desire to waste your time with such pursuits.” Though not a direct quote, the words were a close approximation to Mama’s sentiments.
With a dismissive wave, Mama herded Sophie to the mirror, standing her in front of it and returning to the previous subject. “You may not trust me on the inconstancy of men’s hearts, but do you truly wish to attend the ball in such a drab gown? Rather than blend in with the crowd, wouldn’t you prefer to turn heads?”
Though the blue silk gown lacked the ostentatious frippery so many admired, Sophie’s gown matched her eyes to perfection and brought their brightness to the foreground. Her jewelry was of good quality silver and there was a beauty to its simplicity. Her natural flair was more muted than the colorful and elaborate creature beside her, but Sophie couldn’t deny that Mama looked lovely.
“There is nothing so powerful as having a man desperate for you,” said Mama, tugging one of Sophie’s hairpins free. She spoke softly, her fingers combing through her daughter’s locks as her gaze grew warm and unfocused. “Having him worship at your feet and knowing he will do anything you ask of him is so… intoxicating. The greatest feeling I have ever known. There is none other like it. But that power fades with your looks, and you ought to seize it now, while you can. I would give anything to return to those younger years when I wielded that power with ease, capturing men’s hearts with little more than a glance or two. Each year, it takes more enticements to far less effect.”
A shudder ran down Sophie’s spine at Mama’s words and the sorrow coloring her eyes as she spoke of men like they had little use other than as slaves worshiping at the altar of her beauty. There was no response to offer to such a statement, so Sophie remained mute, watching her mother as the lady reveled in her memories.
When the lady did emerge from her musings, she met Sophie’s gaze in the mirror. “At the very least, don’t you wish to look your very best for your Mr. Kingsley?”
Now, that was a siren’s call to Sophie, bringing with it images of arriving at the ball and catching his eye. Though Mama’s description of her paramours held no appeal, Sophie longed to see her Mr. Kingsley gaze at her with that desire and admiration. What would it be like to cast aside Silly Little Sophie, who lurked in corners as the evening sped by? What harm was there in embracing a fantasy for one night?
“Do not fight it any longer, Sophie. I know you wish for this, even if you are half-tempted to deny yourself an evening as the belle of the ball.” Hurrying to the bedchamber door, Mama called for a servant to fetch her lady’s maid, before returning to her daughter’s side. “I shall need Bisset’s assistance if we are to manage this properly.”
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