It was met with a look of disappointment, then disdain, and finally, inspiration. Miss Sangford threw a glance at Sophia, slipping her arm through that of Tobias and using her other hand to grip his bicep possessively. “You are too kind, sir. I could have managed well enough on my own, but this is very gentlemanly of you. I suppose I should be grateful you have no companion who might be jealous of your thoughtfulness toward me.”
Sophia wanted to scratch her eyes out! Did she have to takeeveryopportunity to sow malice? Sophia bit her tongue to keep from snapping at her. She would not give that hussy the satisfaction of knowing she had hit her mark.
Tobias, however, did not hold back. “I assure you, Miss Sangford,” he said, while peeling her clutching hand from his person, “the sort of woman to whom I would form an attachment would not be envious of a simple act of chivalry. In fact, she would expect no less of me.”
“Is that true, Miss Grant?” Irene Sangford asked innocently.
Sophia froze. “Why… Why do you ask me?”
“You are the only other genteel woman in the room. I will hardly ask the opinion of a lady’s maid.” She looked down the considerable length of her nose at Katie, then angled her neck toward Sophia. “Do you not agree the softer sex is easily made jealous?”
Sophia exhaled her relief, though the sudden fright she’d felt at the question still left her heart thrumming in her ears. “No,” she said as firmly as her voice would let her, “we are no more inclined to such fits than the male of the species. It is a mark of an individual’s insecurity, and not of their gender. Where one is loved well, there is no need to watch and worry.”
“Well put, Miss Grant,” said Lord Howell. And then, cutting off any further discussion on the matter, he declared, “Mr. Mannerly, I believe we were leaving. Shall we get on with it?”
In answer, Tobias began at once to step toward the door. Miss Sangford, who had twisted to face Sophia, was caught off-balance and fairly lurched forward upon his arm. He continued to walk, forcing her to rearrange her steps to match his. As soon as they passed the viscount, he fell in behind to flank them. Lord Carthige hesitated a moment, then followed them out the door.
“Well!” Sophia’s father scratched the back of his neck. “They are an odd bunch. Miss Sangford seems not to know how to hold her tongue, though I am certain she means well. But she does have an unfortunate habit of raising ticklish subjects. A lapse in her education, no doubt. And then there is Lord Howell. A little arrogant, in my opinion. I suppose that a man of his station has not often been contradicted, and he has grown used to it. Yet when I observed him among our other guests, he appeared thoroughly uncomfortable. Is it the crowd, do you think? I could understand that. Not all men who are masters of their own domain enjoy the crush of so much humanity in one sitting. I certainly don’t.”
“They are opposites,” Sophia replied. “Lord Howell commands an audience, and Miss Sangford repels them. Thank goodness Lord Carthige is such a gentle soul. For all his knowledge and wealth, he is unassuming and kind.” Seizing the opportunity, she added, “One can see his nephew takes after him.”
“Does he?” her father asked. “I can’t say I noticed. He did not make much of an impression on me. A quiet chap. And accommodating. I suppose those are not bad qualities. But his uncle suggested he was a talkative sort of fellow. Perhaps I should be grateful he held his tongue. We did not need any further superficial chatter with Miss Sangford in the room. Self-control is a worthy quality to have. If he has inherited that from Lord Carthige, he has done well.”
Sophia’s heart rang out a happy and triumphant note to the heavens. A compliment! Her father had given Tobias a compliment! Granted, he would not have done so if he’d known the nature of the man’s relationship with his daughter. But it was an honest view, and she hugged herself with the knowledge of it. Aloud, she merely said, “He does seem to be an honorable man. It must run in the family.”
Her father snorted. “Insofar as it includes his uncle, Lord Carthige, yes. But the earl’s brother is a dandy if ever I saw one. He wastes more money on his wardrobe than his wife does hers. Mr. Mannerly may be grateful if he resembles the older brother in character. In all likelihood, Lord Carthige wishes he could pass his title to his nephew rather than his brother. But that, I’m sorry to say, is not how these things work.”
“It does not seem to bother Mr. Mannerly.”
“No, indeed. But one cannot discount the benefits of a large inheritance.”
“I imagine he only desires a sufficient income to supply his desire for books.”
Her father nodded. “Another quality he shares with his uncle. Even today, among a crowd of eligible young women, one finds them both in the library.”
Sophia felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a knowing smile.
“Tch, such a pity you were denied your rest for their sakes,” her father said. Then he caught sight of her expression. “Yet you do not seem the worse for it.”
“It was enough to breathe less stuffy air awhile,” she answered. “And I was distracted from fretting about my reading.”
“Do you feel ready to proceed, then? To be honest, I would be glad to have all these people out of my house at last.”
Did she feel ready? Sophia considered this. She had survived Miss Sangford and all her devilry. There was nothing more they had to offer the woman, no fodder for her manipulations. The secrets she held over them could serve no further purpose. Thanks to the protection of the viscount, Lord Carthige had escaped unharmed. Miss Sangford might toy with the Grants of the world, but she would not risk the fury of nobility. Furthermore, Tobias and her father had met without incident. All in all, it had been as much of a success as she could have hoped for. What was a poetry reading when compared to challenges such as these?
“Yes,” she declared, “I am as ready as I’ll ever be. In fact, I am eager to get it over and done with before I change my mind.”
Her father wasted no time. He sent the footman to return the painting, and then bring Sophia to her little dais. Meanwhile, Papa went on ahead to have the guests seated and ready to begin.
They were still milling about, selecting chairs next to their kin, or at least someone of suitable standing, when Sophia was carried in. Her presence sped up the procedure and mercifully kept many eyes from her for the moment. Those of Miss Sangford were still narrow with furious disappointment but were barely visible from her ostracized position near the back.
Sophia cast her gaze away from her audience and captured a tiny movement at the doorway. Familiar curls appeared around the partially opened door, followed by Bess’s inquisitive eyes. They locked with Sophia’s and a grin materialized on young Bess’s face. Sophia tried not to react. Papa would not have been pleased to know that his youngest had snuck down to the gathering. Sophia wished that Bess, at least, might havebeen allowed to attend. The absence of her siblings at such a momentous occasion was sorely felt.
Bess’s hand crept around the edge of the door to steady herself. Then another hand clasped it and, with a brief yelp, Bess disappeared. A worried frown from the housekeeper popped up instead. Sophia gave a quick, reassuring blink. Then the door closed once more. Sophia sighed her disappointment.
By now, the front row of seats had been filled. Sophia did not recognize many of the occupants. Squarely in the center, though, were her father, the viscount, the earl, and dear, precious Tobias. He made sure he had her attention. Sliding his hand surreptitiously to his chest, he pressed it to his heart, smiling encouragement at her.
Sophia focused on that hand, that smile. The noise in the room faded into the background. The silence that finally descended went unheeded by her, until her father stood and made an official statement of welcome. He turned and nodded for her to begin. Sophia barely acknowledged him. She opened her little volume of poems and lifted it so that her voice might travel better as she read. All the while, she felt the caress of Tobias’s eyes upon her. The hours, days, weeks they had spent discussing her verse, in person and via countless letters, swirled around her like a mystical cocoon. She was safe. She was worthy. She was loved.
