Tobias shifted to block her from view. “Use your fan,” he instructed Miss Sangford. She remained motionless, except for a look of disdain that spread across her features. “Look,” he urged, “if Mr. Grant thinks she cannot manage, he will send everyone home. That includes you and my uncle. Now, use your fan!”
The reluctant small breeze offered Sophia some relief from the stifling heat in the room. The fact that Miss Sangford was forced to help revive her offered relief of a different kind. Her heart slowed. The tension ebbed. Her breathing eased. Her thoughts cleared. In fact, this uncomfortable episode had given her exactly the inspiration she needed.
“Take…your uncle…to the library,” she told Tobias, gradually gaining sufficient breath to do so. “You know where it is. There is still time…before the reading. I will tell my father I wish to rest a while before we start. The library is but two doors down. It is warm, but empty. My father will accept my being moved there. I have greeted enough people. He will likely want to stay at my side, but Miss Sangford could do a little show of concern and come with me instead. Introductions can be made there while my father tends to the viscount. Are we in accord?”
“It’s worth a try,” Tobias agreed. “Do you think you can feign concern, Miss Sangford?”
She appeared immune to his slight, lowering her lashes and speaking in an even tone. “You fetch Lord Carthige, and I will manage my part quite nicely. Just make sure he doesn’t bring his friend along to the library. How you do that is up to you.”
Tobias gave a glance of despair to Sophia, his brow furrowed, his mouth slack. He was not, by nature, devious. He had not lived a life like hers that required it. She nodded at him with encouragement.
“Just remind his lordship why he is here,” she coaxed.
It was a subtle enough clue to go right over the head of Miss Sangford. But Tobias would understand. He set off across the room, shoulders squared.
He approached his uncle, turned to indicate Sophia, and then gestured toward the library. A short discussion ensued, then agreement. Tobias and Lord Carthige began to make their way across the crowded room. When the viscount made to join them, Tobias stopped. He lowered his head, then tilted it slightly in reference to the other guests. Lord Howell’s cheeks became touched with color. He appeared quite deflated. What must have been words of encouragement followed. Sophia could not read lips, but she could have sworn the earl said, “Chin up, old boy.” At which point there was a sigh and a look of resignation. The viscount resumed his confident air, though it demanded no small effort. Mere seconds after his companions left without him, the wretched soul was surrounded by mothers, eager to introduce their daughters.
“Foolish things,” Miss Sangford sneered. “They’re welcome to him. You wouldn’t catch me fawning over him like that.”
“Is that because you’ve already had your turn?” Sophia asked sweetly.
Miss Sangford looked down at Sophia from her considerable height, made more so by the fact that Sophia was sitting down.
“If I’m going to marry for money and status, I prefer an older man. There wouldn’t be as many years to put up with him before the poor dear was off to the Elysian Fields. I think I am rather well suited for the role of dowager countess, don’t you think?”
Sophia’s blood boiled at such callous words. She felt her cheeks glow with revulsion.
“Goodness, are you feeling unwell?” Miss Sangford asked, slipping smoothly into her mask. “I shall ask your father to come at once.”
“Don’t overdo it,” Sophia warned. “We want him to let me rest in the library, not be spirited away to my room and the event canceled.”
Miss Sangford waved her fingers over her shoulder as she glided through the cluster of bodies to reach Mr. Grant. Seconds later, he was hurrying toward Sophia. There was just enough time for Lord Howell to catch a glimpse of Miss Sangford and frown.
“What’s the matter?” Mr. Grant asked, his forehead pleated with worry.
“Nothing, Papa. It’s just so hot and stuffy. I was thinking to sit in the library a while. I’ve greeted everybody, and there is still time before my reading starts. I would just like to catch my breath.”
Her father considered this. “You would tell me if it was all too much for you, wouldn’t you? I know how much this means to you. But you must not put your health at risk.”
“I promise, Papa. A half hour in the library is exactly what I need. I can go through my poems in private, without the eyes of our guests upon me.”
“Very well. Katie must stay with you. I will check on you as often as I can.”
Seizing the moment, Miss Sangford inserted herself into his line of sight, dripping with honeyed tones. “I could avail myself to Miss Grant, if you would permit me. I am content to browse your collection as long as she fares well. If something were amiss, I would be right there and could support her while young Katie finds you.”
“That is very kind, Miss…”
“Sangford. Descended from the HanoverSanfords. You may have heard of us.” She raised her fan coyly. “Of course, we don’t speak of it often, but it has been suggested we are distant cousins to Her Majesty.”
“Suggested by whom?” Sophia asked before she could stop herself.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Miss Sangford replied, looking down at Sophia over the frill of her fan. “One does not like to ask such indelicate questions.”
Mr. Grant cleared his throat. “Yes, well, thank you for your kind offer, Miss Sangford. I would be most grateful for my Sophia to have a companion of good standing while she rests. You will certainly be able to provide more depth of conversation than Katie. She attends well to her mistress, but I often wonder if my daughter does not want for more refined company.”
“Katie has always been more than sufficient, Papa,” Sophia retorted. “She may not be an aficionado of poetry, but that’s what I have my many correspondents for.”
“You have always borne it well,” her father answered sadly. “But the absence of your mother robs you of a woman’s comfort.”
