“Perhaps,” she said, as one who could never understand such loss, “it is not time one needs, but the love of a good woman.” She smiled her encouragement to the earl, testing his readiness to be pursued. The smile was not returned.
Sophia watched Lord Carthige’s shoulders sag with weariness, while her father’s expression morphed into searing contempt.
“I have already had the love of a good woman,” he bit back. “Do you think I will ever find her equal?” He threw his hand out to indicate the earl, his voice rising with hurt and anger. “Are men like us supposed to tear the scars from our hearts so that some other woman who could never take her place can climb inside and nest there like a Gorgon?”
“Papa!” Sophia felt the tears welling up, the agony of her father too much to bear.
He whirled round to face her, his face a storm, his lips wet with spittle. She held his eyes, pleading silently. Within a few raggedy breaths, he had subsided. In two steps he was with her, taking her hand and lifting it to his bowed temple.
“Ah, no need for a Gorgon, my dear,” he said, his voice low and thick. “My heart is already a stone.” He leaned her knuckles onto his brow, his words now a mere whisper. “And you bear the weight of it.”
Sophia’s free hand reached up and cupped her father’s cheek. “We all struggle together,” she said. “Mama’s absence is a wound that will not close.”
Silence descended upon the room. No one knew what more to say. For once, that included Miss Sangford.
Sophia’s father pulled her hand from his cheek, squeezed it gently, and released it. The other he kissed and returned to her before taking a deep breath and turning to face his stunned audience. Remnants of recent emotion, mixed with embarrassment, showed upon his face.
If only she knew how to undo all that had just transpired! It was her fault, bringing strangers into his home, his sanctuary. He would have been spared this pain and humiliation, if not for Miss Sangford. And Sophia was the one who had given the enemy power over her with the secrets she kept from her father.
Then again, said a new voice inside her, bold and challenging,was it not your father who forced such secrets upon you? Is it not he whose relentless sorrow extends all of ours? How long must we be held ransom to his misery? Why may his children not know the depth of love that he still feels?Her pity shrank as this voice grew louder. How they all pandered to his needs! Fifteen years had not been enough for him to feel relief, nor offer it to his children.
She looked at Tobias, whose skin was flushed with silent restraint. Did he understand at last? Would he give up now,knowing there was no hope for her father to release her? Or did he wish, more than ever, to free her from this house of endless mourning?
She cursed her legs that could not stride from the room, could not offer her escape. She wanted to be far from her father and his morbid obsession with a memory. Instead, she would have to ask.Please carry me. Please release me.She felt a scream of frustration build in her throat.
Her father, by contrast, had calmed. “I fear I have rather shocked you,” he said to Miss Sangford. “I pray you will forgive my outburst, for my daughter’s sake.”
Ah, thought Sophia,Miss Sangford will do no such thing. She has seen that the earl is beyond her reach, beyond the reach of any woman. She need spare no one now. There’s no reward in it for her.
And yet, Miss Irene Sangford paused. Perhaps she remembered the room beyond was filled with men as well as women. Some would be fathers. But others might include an unwed brother, or chaperoning cousin. And if the earl and his friend the viscount were here, the other gentlemen would no doubt be from families of the highest caliber. To antagonize her host would be to cut off all potential that lay but two doors down.
“I have not yet heard Miss Grant read,” she said at last. “Nothing has occurred that would prevent me from doing so. That is why we are here, after all.”
Sophia’s father bowed his head briefly. “Thank you for your understanding. It is most generous of you.”
Lord Carthige tapped the back of his hand against Tobias’s arm but addressed their host. “I believe your daughter came here to rest. We have robbed her of that. Please excuse us. My nephew and I will rejoin the others. Miss Sangford, may I escort you?”
He held out an arm and she took it readily. Even if her designs on the earl were a lost cause, being seen on his arm couldn’t hurt.
So it was that when Lord Howell at last hastened into the library—most likely having had to fend off mothers and their eligible daughters—he found his friend in the clutches of the notorious Miss Irene Sangford.
“Miss Sangford,” he cried, “I did not know you would be here.”
It was the truth and a lie. She had definitely not been on his list of potential brides. He would not have expected her to attend the reading. But Sophia had seen him frown at Miss Sangford earlier. Her presence had been noted. Lord Howell knew she had followed them out of the room. Was that why he had come, clearly in a hurry, to join Lord Carthige?
Miss Sangford smiled her feral smile and leaned into her escort’s arm more closely. “My lord, why would you concern yourself with whether I am here on not? I am no one of importance.”
“So you know each other,” Sophia’s father interjected. “Well, that saves us the trouble of introductions.”
“Indeed,” Miss Sangford replied. “We often attend the same events. We have several friends in common.”
“Those are not my friends,” the viscount replied gruffly. “There are functions I am expected to attend. That is all.”
“Oh, you are too modest, Lord Howell,” Miss Sangford said with practiced coyness. “All of Munro would be your friend. If you would but give them a chance.”
“All of Munro can mind its own business,” he huffed. “I know who my real friends are. And I have come to fetch one now. Carthige, if you would be so good, I need your assistance in a private matter. Mr. Mannerly, you would not mind escorting Miss Sangford instead.”
It was not a request, and Tobias stepped forward at once to comply. The earl released Miss Sangford’s arm with a polite bow of apology. Tobias grudgingly tipped his elbow toward her.
