Sophy’s recollections of the rest of the evening were vague. She had laughed at Harriet’s almost stupefied happiness, but now understood it. All she could think about was her father being solicited for her hand by Lord Rothley. She returned to Hill Street still within her reverie, oblivious to Susan’s unusual quietness in the carriage, and when she lay in her bed, fell asleep with a smile upon her lips.
She awoke at no very advanced hour, and enjoyed the luxury of lying in her warm bed, with a cup of morning chocolate, daydreaming about her future, a thing which had never previously appealed. The concept of having the running of her own house, having experienced it even briefly, was exciting, and that was before the intoxicating thoughts of what marriage to Lord Rothley might be like took possession of her. The idea of another person being in tune with her, understanding her, sharing unspoken thoughts, private jokes, and on top of that thrilling her as even the touch of his hand thrilled her, was so novel as to leave her without any formulated plan for the practicalities of the day, even down to which morning gown she would wear. Her maid, unused to her mistress being so vague, wondered if she felt quite well, whereupon, as she revealed to her closest confidante below stairs, Lady Sophronia sighed, and said ‘perfectly well’ in a dreamy voice.
‘I think it is the strain what has got to her poor ladyship. It is thankful I’ll be when his lordship arrives, and no mistake.’
In fact, before Lord Chelmarsh reached London, a missive arrived from his spouse. Bembridge lingered in expectation, and, as he had hoped, Lady Sophronia asked him to remain a moment. Sophy broke the seal with a degree of trepidation followed by a sigh of relief.
‘Oh Bembridge, we may rejoice. Lady Tattersett has been safely delivered of a son, and both mother and child flourish.’
Bembridge so far forgot himself as to clap his hands together, wring them, and beam at his mistress.
‘Heaven be praised, my lady. Her young ladyship has always been held in highest regard here, if you do not mind me saying so.’
‘Not at all, Bembridge. Will you get Cook to make one of her tipsy cakes for the staff dinner tonight, and you may all toast the new arrival and safe delivery with a glass of sherry for those that take wine.’
‘Yes, my lady, very gladly. If I may, I would like to go below stairs straight away with this good news.’
‘Of course, Bembridge. I will go and find Lady Harriet.’
She found her sister sat with a copy ofLa Belle Assemblée, and making a list of those items she thought she might need as her trousseau. She looked up as Sophy entered.
‘Harry, Frances has had her baby, a baby boy, and she is well, she is well, dear sister.’ With which she stepped forward, hugged her youngest sister, and burst into tears of joy and relief.
Lord Chelmarsh arrived the next day, unaware that he had become a grandfather, since he had left Suffolk before the letter from his wife arrived. He received the news with suitable delight, and declared that his family was increasing by the week. He had but recently found himself entertaining the scion of a ducal house, desirous of marrying his youngest daughter, which came as a complete, if pleasant, surprise to him. Naturally, Lord Edward had not mentioned Susan Tyneham, or any of the unfortunate events in which she had been involved. His lady, having recently informed him of all the recent events in the Metropolis, had given him pause for thought about how his eldest daughter had been left to control the uncontrollable for far too long. Setting the breeding of bovines aside, he decided that the time had come for him to take a hand and ease her undoubted burden. He knew his Sophy, and he had little doubt she was taking everything very much to heart. Whilst he could see why his wife had felt it necessary to go to Frances in her hour, or rather, weeks, of need, he rather fancied Sophy’s need was not inconsiderable, and he was not an uncaring father.
He had expected to find her a little fraught, but instead was met by a daughter whose glowing looks could not be entirely put down to sisterly joy. He looked speculatively at Sophy but said nothing until after he had congratulated Harriet, made her quite pink with pleasure by saying how much he liked his prospective son-in-law, and then both girls laugh by saying he had already suggested he might like to consider starting a dairy herd on his home farm. Susan he found surprisingly meek, and far from the rebel he was expecting, but then thought about the matter and decided that seeing her better-behaved cousin find a husband must have shown her that conformity was the way to success after all.
When he found himself alone at last with his eldest child, he smiled gently at her, invited her to seat herself upon the stool at his feet, much as she had done as a child, and to tell him everything.
‘Everything, Papa? Oh, there has been so very much, and most would not interest you at all.’
‘Your happiness, Sophy, interests me exceedingly, so tell me about … fate.’
She smiled, and lowered her eyes for a moment, before raising them again to his. He saw the glow in them, and much of what she said became unnecessary.
‘Fate has led me a merry dance, sir, but in the end has smiled upon me, upon us both. I have fallen in love, Papa, with Lord Rothley, who isnota … a loose screw like his father, not at all. And Papa, he has fallen in love with me.’
‘That shows good taste, for a start.’
Sophy set about telling her father all about the emotional ups and downs of falling in love with a man she believed true, but whom she thought her mother and the world knew to be a rake, how she had been confused and held him off, how he had borne her blowing hot and cold with him, how well they understood each other notwithstanding the problematic name of Rothley. As she drew to a close, she smiled more broadly at her parent.
‘I told him that you were coming to London, Papa, and he has said that he will wait upon you tomorrow, to ask your permission to pay his addresses. You will say yes, dearest Papa?’
‘I would not be doing my paternal duty if I said yes without establishing the gentleman’s credentials and ability to support a wife,’ declared Lord Chelmarsh, sententiously, then relented. ‘How could I not do so, Sophy, when you are so sure? Mind you, people make strange decisions when moonstruck.’
‘Moonstruck? Oh no, do I seem so?’ She giggled. ‘Perhaps I am, Papa, for the world seems so much nicer a place since Lord Rothley made it clear that … that he wants to marry me.’
Her father took her hands, and squeezed them.
‘You just wait until your mama finds out.’
‘Oh, my goodness me! But she told me so very very firmly that we were to have as little to do with Lord Rothley as possible. I had, in a way, forgotten, once I knew about …’
‘About?’
‘About Susan, Papa. Tyneham told me.’
‘Hmmm, I don’t think much of young Tyneham, but then I never liked his father either,’ admitted Lord Chelmarsh. ‘Personally, I think your mother would have been better to take you into her confidence, since you were leftin loco parentis. I think that she will not react unfavourably when she returns. She has the security that Harriet is making a good match, and I would think she will be delighted to announce her eldest daughter is also joining the ranks of the espoused. She can safely announce that all her daughters are “well established”, which I thought applied to shrubs, but …’
