“You did not realize your compliments were undeserved,” Sophia tried to explain. “I only wish for you to alter future correspondence to reflect the reality you have discovered here tonight.”
His pained features softened, but the confusion remained. “How are you different from my expectations?” he questioned. “Are you not intelligent, talented, honest, and true? How have I misjudged you?”
Sophia breathed out an exasperated sigh. “These qualities are not the whole story, sir, as you can clearly see.”
“I do not see how your difficulty in walking is relevant. Would a stronger step have made you a better poet, or given you greater integrity?”
“No, I suppose not, but…”
“What am I missing? What would you have me change in my regard for you?”
Sophia blushed again. It was proving very difficult to have the man see reason. Moreover, his stubbornness was strangelycomforting. She was no longer quite as motivated to alter his fond appraisal of her.
She caught a reassuring smile from her sister. Adriana was leaning slightly towards Mr. Mannerly, whose speech was too soft to travel far. Her sister was drinking in every word of their conversation, though she nodded at the rest of the company at appropriate intervals. She would likely scold Sophia later for countering Mr. Mannerly at every turn.
Sophia hesitated. Perhaps Adriana was right. Was it truly necessary to undoallof the kind gentleman’s generous opinions?
“I certainly would not want you to think less of me than I am…” she answered at last.
“But you think I do not see you as youreallyare.”
“Yes!”
He sat back, and looked at her with determined concentration.
“I see it now,” he confessed at last.
“You do?” Her heart sank.
“The fault is clearly with you.”
“It is?” Her chest tightened.
“It isyouwho do not see yourself as you really are.”
“Oh!” She exhaled in relief.
“My dear Miss Grant, if you will permit my candor, I suspect you have been greatly disappointed by your physical limitations and therefore assume everyone feels the same. I, however, do not see how it makes one jot of difference to the person you are. All the qualities I have discovered in your letters and wonderful lines of poetry are the ones I value most. I fail to grasp how your health would improve your character, though I do sympathize that it is a frustration for you. I do not know how to make this any clearer.”
It took several moments for Sophia to regain her bearings.
“I see,” she said, though truly, she did not. She had spent the latter half of her life thus far mourning her losses—her health, her mother. They had robbed her of joy and freedom. The vivacious girl of her youth was gone, replaced by this old maid of nearly thirty in a body that didn’t work. In contrast, young Mr. Mannerly was so full of energy, his life ripe with promise. Why was he not repulsed by her? He should have been.
“Ah, Miss Grant.” He shook his head slowly. “I have not convinced you.” He sighed. “Well, let us agree to disagree, then. It should not spoil the evening. After all, there is always hope for any dinner where I have not spilled soup on my napkin.” He offered her a lopsided grin, and she could not help but return it.
By now, the footman was serving the roast beef, and chatter had swelled around the table. It was a remarkably genial gathering with George playing host instead of their father. Freddy and Adriana exchanged tender glances, their hands finding excuses to brush lightly past each other. Henry got away with student humor that would have been summarily condemned by their father. And Bess, who had been allowed to join the dinner despite not being out officially, was beside herself with excitement, her youthful laughter punctuating the spirited dialogue.
Sophia allowed herself to forget Mr. Mannerly’s delusions for the moment. He was obdurate in his opinion of her, and she had given up persuading him otherwise. Tomorrow, they would continue their literary correspondence, and everything would return to its comfortable, predictable status quo. As it should.
And yet, when she watched him chatting with, well,anyoneat the table, he fit right in. It was uncomplicated. Joyous even. So very, very opposite to her daily life. It brought back memories of the dinners Mama would arrange when Papa had traveled to London. She’d only done so when he’d been from home. Not because he would have spoiled the mood. No, not then. Butbecause she’d known that, when he returned, he would want to have his family all to himself. He’d always missed them terribly and would scoop them up in his arms where they’d waited for him excitedly at the door. There would be noisy play, with their usually reserved father growling like a lion and chasing them about the house.
She barely recognized who he was now. He would not like this gathering at all. It was noisy, cheerful, and certainly not safe. How was he to keep his daughters close to home when there were such eligible gentlemen present?
Sophia wondered if Mr. Mannerly would still delight in her company if he knew how strange her family was. Well, she wasn’t going to let it bother her tonight. It was just the one dinner. Papa would never find out. They all protected each other’s secrets. Mr. Tobias Mannerly and Conrad Grant were much better off knowing nothing about each other.
As the evening wore on, Sophia let herself laugh. She did not stop Adriana from divulging what an absolute urchin their eldest sister had been as a child, able to outrun and out-pummel her brothers as the need had arisen. Mr. Mannerly had turned to Sophia, his mouth an “O” of surprise. But he did not appear shocked. He seemed incapable of being rattled.
By the time their guests were readying to leave, Sophia was still keeping up with the rest of the company. She felt strong, buoyant. The visit had refreshed rather than drained her. She almost wished…yes, shedidwish it could happen again.
