“Why, Mrs. Wynn, I did not expect to see you under such pleasant circumstances.” The stranger whirled around as if struck by a sudden thought. “Your father is not here?” Her triumph at finding Sophia and Adriana’s father absent was ill-disguised. But her surprise at seeing Tobias was not concealed at all.
“Mr. Mannerly! What areyoudoing here? And who is this with you? Are you friends of the bride or groom?”
Tobias looked as if he wished to shrink inside his coat.
“Are you not going to introduce us, sir?” the woman asked, an almost predatory smile lacing her eyes and mouth.
“So this is Mr. Mannerly?” the tall, haughty friend inquired, her expression no less hungry. “Yes, now I understand. You described him perfectly, Mary.” Her lips curled into a condescending smile. “And with whom does Mr. Mannerly keep company now?”
She stepped toward Sophia, her very fashionable dress shaping around bony knees that matched the rest of her equally angular features. She dropped her hand limply at Sophia’s face, as if she expected to have it kissed in papal fashion. “Irene Sangford.” She announced herself, her voice a languid drawl, as though she could scarcely be bothered to make the effort of speech. “And you are?”
Sophia felt obliged to shake the rather forward woman’s hand, though her gentle grip was not returned. It was akin to greeting a fish—all cool and damp, andsansan ounce of character.
Tobias stood up, forcing Miss Sangford to take a step backward. “You will know Miss Sophia Grant from her great works of poetry. And we are here to support both bride and groom.”
He looked grimly at Sophia. “These ladies are Miss Irene Sangford, whom I have just met, and Miss Mary Dunbar, with whom I am previously acquainted.”
“Miss Sophia Grant?” Miss Dunbar swiveled to face her. “I was given to understand you never left the sanctuary of your home. Is your health so greatly improved, then, that attending your sister’s wedding does it no harm?”
Miss Sangford snickered. “Isn’t it obvious? Mr. Mannerly is clearly the cause for her newly robust constitution.”
Tobias hastily interjected. “And which of the wedding party haveyoucome to support?”
“Why, my own!” Miss Dunbar cried. “We came to discuss the details of the forthcoming event with Mr. Darrow here.” She indicated the clergyman who waited patiently for their appointment to proceed. “We were early. Or your wedding ran late. What does it matter? We bothered no one. Merely sat in the last pew and waited.” She barked a quick laugh. “Not in a month of Sundays did we expect the Grants at a wedding. Norina wedding, for that matter.” The hunter’s lust returned to her eyes. “And we certainly did not know of your connection to their…remarkablefamily.”
“Nor was it necessary for you to know,” Tobias replied stiffly. “We no longer frequent the same society, you and I.”
Miss Dunbar cocked her head to the side. “Did we ever really, though? After a few appearances at card evenings and dances, you rarely left your uncle’s home anymore. Lord Carthige must beeversuch fascinating company.” A smirk escaped and she looked away before Mr. Darrow spied it.
Miss Sangford, by contrast, drew nearer, as if pulled by a magnet.
“Lord Carthige? The earl is your uncle?”
Tobias nodded curtly.
“Oh my, I had no idea we were in such illustrious company.”
“You are not,” Tobias answered. “I am merely a student of books. I do not stand to inherit the title or the estate.”
“No.” Miss Sangford appeared thoughtful. “That would go to his son.”
“If he ever has one.” Miss Dunbar shrugged. “Lord Carthige is something of a recluse, isn’t he, Mr. Mannerly? I believe there is a younger brother who will receive all eventually.”
“A married brother,” added Miss Sangford with a tone of disapproval.
“Well, yes,” her friend agreed. “And just as well. Else what would happen to the family line?”
“The situation can yet be salvaged,” declared Miss Sangford. “While Lord Carthige lives, an heir can be procured.”
The thought of Miss Sangford anywhere near Lord Carthige, with her claws extended and ready to sink in, roused the mother tigress in Sophia.
“He is happy as he is,” she informed the presumptuous woman. After all, hadn’t Tobias told her as much already in their earliest correspondence? His uncle was apparently the most content fellow Tobias had ever had the pleasure to know.
Miss Sangford raised a bemused eyebrow. “Is he, indeed? It is my experience that men do not know what they want. It is up to the fairer sex to enlighten them.”
“I need no one to tell me my own mind,” Tobias snapped. “And neither does my uncle.”
“My dear Mr. Mannerly, your own mind has led you into an intrigue with a daughter of Mr. Conrad Grant.” She turned to indicate the now-simmering Adriana but stopped when Tobias’s eyes flicked to Sophia instead.
