Sophie turned to see Lady Clayton standing behind her. Lady Clayton was pretty with dark hair and gray eyes, and she was wearing a gorgeous, high-waisted, lavender gown that complimented her lovely figure.
“Lady Clayton?” Sophia replied, curtsying and somewhat surprised to be addressed by the woman. What could Lady Clayton possibly want with her? They had never spoken before. And the woman had arrived with Phillip, which made dread curdle in Sophie’s middle.
“I was hoping you’d take a turn about the room with me,” Lady Clayton said, a friendly smile on her face.
Warning bells sounded in Sophie’s head. No good would come of taking a turn around the room with Lady Clayton. Sophie knew it and yet, only a moment later, she found herself agreeing, based solely on the fact that she could not find an adequate excuse to say no.
The slightly older woman slipped an arm through Sophie’s and led her away. They kept to the perimeter of the large room, while Sophie made a game of staring through anyone they encountered, as if they didn’t exist. She didn’t want to see the censure in their eyes. Or the curiosity in their gazes.
“Thank you for walking with me,” Lady Clayton began.
“This is about Phillip, isn’t it?” Sophie asked. She’d never been one for meaningless chatter. She preferred to get straight to a matter.
Lady Clayton continued both smiling and walking as she replied, “Yes. Yes, it is.”
“Well, then. You might as well tell me precisely what you intend to say. I’d prefer it that way,” Sophie replied, her heart hammering in her chest.
Lady Clayton looked at Sophie from the corners of her eyes and her careful smile turned into a friendly grin. “I like you. I’ve always admired a young lady who gets to the point. I prefer it myself.”
“Go ahead,” Sophie prodded, still feeling as if she might cast up her accounts at any moment. She couldn’t bear the suspense, wondering what Lady Clayton would say.
Lady Clayton took a deep breath. “There is much you don’t know about where Phillip has been, what he’s been through and—”
Sophie clenched her jaw. “On the contrary, I don’t know a thing about where Phillip has been,” she clarified.
Lady Clayton nodded. “Yes, well, the fact is that he would very much like to speak with you alone, and I’ve come to ask if you will agree to do so.”
“Alone?” Alone with Phillip? More alarm bells sounded in Sophie’s head. “How would we speak alone?”
Lady Clayton kept her gaze trained straight ahead and that pleasant smile pasted on her lips. “Not half an hour past, my husband escorted the duke to Lord Cranberry's billiards room. They are even now taking in a game with some of the other gentlemen.”
“And?” Sophie asked, frowning. What did a game of billiards have to do with her and Phillip speaking alone?
“When that game is through,” Lady Clayton continued calmly, “Phillip plans to go to the north salon downstairs. It’s empty. Or it was a few minutes ago.”
Sophie sucked in her breath. She was quickly beginning to understand. Lady Clayton had come to fetch her. “I see. And you want me to meet Phillip there?”
Another nod. “I will go with you in case you’re seen. You’ll only have to tell your Mama you need some fresh air or something.”
Sophie glanced over at Valentina, who was engaged in a hand-gesture-filled exchange with Lord Hillsdale near a potted palm in the corner. “She’s my stepmother,” Sophie replied in a low voice.
“Ah, I see,” Lady Clayton replied.
Sophie considered the viscountess’s words for a few moments while they continued to walk. She wasn’t certain why she was contemplating taking up Lady Clayton on her offer, but she was. She was more than contemplating it, actually. She’d already decided she would go. Just like that. She had to. She couldn’t help it. Phillip had ignored her earlier and now he wanted to speak to her alone? Why? What had changed in the last hour? And more importantly, what could the man possibly say to make it all right? He’d let her believe he was dead, for God’s sake.
“If I go now, I believe Valentina won’t notice,” Sophie heard herself reply.
“Excellent,” came Lady Clayton’s response. “I’ll just drift off into the crowd as if we’re done speaking. I’ll go out the side door by the orchestra. You go out the main doors. I’ll meet you at the head of the staircase in a few minutes.”
Sophie nodded and swallowed hard as Lady Clayton released her arm and drifted away. Another quick glance at Valentina told Sophie her stepmother was still occupied with Lord Hillsdale. It was now or never. Sophie lifted her skirts and made straight for the doors. Oh, people would be watching. And wondering where she’d gone. But none of them would be bold enough to follow her…she hoped.
As she hurried out the door, Lady Clayton’s words played themselves through Sophie’s mind again. She’d cut off the lady, but she’d said something like, “There is much you don’t know about what Phillip’s been through.” That had been a strange choice of words. What could Lady Clayton have possibly meant by it? Besides, if Phillip had been through something difficult, so had Sophie. She’d been forced to believe the man she loved was dead, of all horrible things. Even so, she couldn’t keep from wondering…what had he been through? Sophie shook her head to clear it of such thoughts. Sympathy for Phillip was the last thing she wanted to feel just before she was about to see him again.
As promised, Lady Clayton was standing at the top of the staircase when Sophie arrived minutes later.
“Thank you for coming,” Lady Clayton breathed, before turning toward the stairs. The two made their way silently down to the salon and stood in front of the imposing double doors. Pausing, Sophie pressed her hand to her middle once again. There was still every chance she might cast up her accounts tonight, and seeing Phillip again just might be the reason. She must remember why she was angry, or she would end up in a puddle at his feet within minutes.
Lady Clayton pushed open the door to reveal Phillip standing at the far end of the room, staring out the darkened windows. A few candles placed on tables throughout lit the space enough for Sophie to make out his form. He was tall and blond and so handsome her knees were weak. Her heart twisted in her chest. Seeing him again was sweet agony.
