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Miss Hayward and the Earl

Page 7

by C.N. Jarrett

Saunton regarded her with newfound respect. “I am glad to hear you say that. I am a young man who has just awakened to his own selfishness. I have to believe that it is never too late for a man to change, or I will go mad. My cousin, Halmesbury, assures me that amends can be made, and a new future built. Do you believe in second chances, Miss Hayward?”

“I would never deny a man’s right to try to correct his path.”

Her heart raced as their conversation veered into unexpectedly meaningful territory. No man had ever spoken to her so openly.

“Then know your words had a profound effect on me. Please, may I have another dance at the Yardley ball? I would like one more chance to persuade you.”

Sophia’s breath hitched as their eyes met. His gaze held so much hope that she found herself whispering, “I promise.”

A genuine smile lit his face, and Sophia could not help but notice how compelling he was when he smiled with such warmth.

What harm could another waltz possibly do?

Feeling the increased beating in her chest, she worried that a single dance could do far more damage to her vow to stay unaffected than she could possibly conceive. Yet she could not bring herself to regret her decision to see him again.

Chapter

Two

“The domestic economy of a family is entirely a woman's province.”

Dr. John Gregory, A Father’s Legacy to His Daughters

After her waltz with Lord Saunton, he returned her to her aunt’s side, who watched him walk away with a calculating gleam in her chocolate-brown eyes. Aunt Christiana was not a bad person. She was, however, ruthless in pursuing her goals, and her current goal was to see Sophia married to a well-connected gentleman. To be fair, Sophia’s parents and their tragic end might have been to blame for inspiring her aunt’s single-minded focus.

Standing in the crowded ballroom, with people continuously brushing past, stirred Sophia’s customary anxiety within large gatherings, mounting to an uncomfortable level. Oddly, during her dance with Lord Saunton, she had not even noticed the other dancing couples despite their proximity. He had profoundly distracted her with his intimate conversation.

As her anxiety rose, she looked around for her cousin, thinking to escape to the terrace.

“Lily’s dance card is filled for the entire night.”

Sophia started. The uncanny announcement from Lady Moreland made her wonder if she had spoken her thoughts out loud moments earlier.

“It would behoove you to make an effort, Sophia. You could be married before the end of this Season,” her aunt continued.

Sophia breathed a sigh of relief. She had not spoken out loud; her aunt was simply continuing The Conversation.

“Indeed, Aunty. I need to visit the necessary, and then I shall return.”

Her aunt nodded, her eyes fixed on her daughter, who was dancing with Lord Baxton—a man with an obnoxious laugh whose love of snuff was nauseating. She hoped her cousin was holding her breath.

Sophia quickly walked off toward the necessary, but when she was sure her aunt’s attention was still focused on the dancers, she veered down the corridor toward the library, her favorite room in their London home. She needed a moment alone to clear her thoughts and settle her nerves.

There are too many people in the Moreland townhouse tonight.

Once she reached the library, Sophia made her way to the annex at the back. Finding one of the library steps—polished mahogany, about the size and shape of a large armchair—she sank to the parquet floor and leaned against the back of the solid furnishing, which would hide her from any guests entering the room.

Drawing a deep, calming breath, she closed her eyes and savored a moment of quiet. The orchestra’s music was dampened by the thick walls, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Her encounter with Lord Saunton came vividly to mind. His confessions lingered in her thoughts: reparations to former paramours and an earnest effort to change his character. A monumental undertaking for such a man, all spurred by overhearing her mockery on the balcony. It seemed incredible.

Why would her words affect him to such a degree? Would this change of heart last, or was it merely a passing whim that would vanish by the end of the week? He was reputed to make sound financial decisions and, according to rumor, had tripled his family’s fortune since inheriting the title as a young man at Oxford. That implied he possessed the intelligence and fortitude to follow through on difficult resolutions. But to claim she had inspired such a transformation?

Barely anyone knew of her existence beyond her immediate family, and no one had ever accused her of being inspirational. Yet, he seemed sincere. Could her words truly have such power? The thought was heady, if not a little overwhelming. Shielding herself from society had always been her first instinct, but the idea that her opinion might matter—even to a dissolute lord—was undeniably gratifying.

Suddenly, Sophia heard approaching footsteps. Quickly, she tucked her skirts behind the enormous steps. It would not do to be caught alone in the library; such a discovery could incite scandal depending on who entered the room. Luckily, the annex was poorly lit, offering her some concealment.

“Hayward, why the hell did you insist I come tonight? I am not even on the cursed guest list, and when Lord Moreland saw me, he glared as though he wanted to throw me out on my ear!”