Page 6 of Summoner of Sins

“Can you explain them to me?”

Tabbie hesitated, looking away. “As the temporary mistress of this house, I have more insight than I might normally into the workings of society. I don’t know what Lord Whitehouse does, but I know many families won’t entertain him. He’s not welcome.”

Sophie shook her head. She wanted to believe that her uncle didn’t consort with unsavory men, but she knew it wasn’t true. Despite that, he’d taken care of her and Abigail and still did. “My uncle has been nothing but supportive this past year. I…”

Tabbie waved her hand. “Just keep your eyes and ears open.” Then Tabbie stepped closer. “I think Lord Whitehouse has taken an interest in you because of that dance with Lord Maxwell.”

“Lord Maxwell,” Sophie whispered. He had been their host for the evening. The one everyone was talking about. The man who didn’t speak, which all of a sudden, made sense.

“He’s a recluse. Notorious for snubbing his nose at society,” Tabbie stepped closer. “He wasn’t seen at all during the ball, even though he was the host until he danced with you.”

Cold dread slid down her back. What did it all mean?

“You told me in the repose that the ball had been your first social event since coming to London.”

“That’s right.”

“And now, you’ve been invited to several, and your uncle is paying for your clothes?”

“That’s right,” she said again, her voice growing higher and tighter.

“I’ve been thinking it over and the only thing I can figure is that Lord Maxwell, your uncle, and Lord Whitehouse must all know each other. They wanted you to be seen in society.”

“But why?” she asked, swallowing down a lump. She could hear the truth in the words. But why wouldn’t her uncle simply ask her to dance with Lord Maxwell? “That doesn’t make sense. Why did my uncle look so angry and call me a fool when I danced with him?”

“He called you a fool?” Tabbie leaned back on her heels. “Interesting.”

Sophie did not find it interesting. The word had cut. Her uncle didn’t speak to her all that much, but she thought that might just be his way. What she’d seen in his eyes that night had alarmed her. She’d not seen that side of him, and it made her feel as though she didn’t know him at all. Which was frightening, considering he was her one support in this world.

She shook her head. “Lord Whitehouse is choosing which events I attend and for some reason, I’m attending Elsa’s luncheon. They seemed to know each other.” Her head hung a bit lower at the idea. Those women were not for her. “I have no idea if they’ll even pretend to be kind, but I feel as though I’m in the center of some vortex.”

Tabbie sighed. “You are.” Then she squeezed Sophie’s hands. “I’ll go to the luncheon with you. It’s one place I can meaningfully help you.”

Sophie’s eyes widened as she looked over at the dresses. “You’re helping plenty.”

Tabbie shook her head. “In a place like this, people are never upfront or honest. I saw you were both those things the moment I met you and I adore that about you. But London will eat you up and spit you out if you’re not careful.”

Sophie nipped her lip. It wasn’t the first time she’d thought that very thing. But she’d found the only way to solve a problem was to keep walking through…and so that was what she’d do. “I’d very much like for you to attend with me.”

Tabbie nodded. “Now listen. Take that money for the dresses and hide it. Tell them it’s all gone and then keep it. If the worst happens, it will allow you to get away from here.”

“To where?” she asked, letting go of one of Tabbie’s hands. “I’ve nowhere to go and maybe enough funds to live for six months or a year. Then what?” She shook her head. “The only solution for me is to marry. But until my uncle allows me to court…”

Tabbie frowned. “You might have to search on your own. You’ve got access to society now. Use it. Stay away from men like Lord Maxwell. Focus on merchants, barristers, doctors. You’re beautiful and you’ve got a very sunny disposition. Some man will surely wed you for those traits alone.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. She never really considered her dark brown hair and matching eyes the traits of a beautiful woman. “You’re too kind.”

“I’m not being kind, Sophie. You are exceptionally lovely. I can feel that you are kind and forthright in the way most people I meet are not. It’s why I know we’ll be the best of friends. But please, use your beauty to place yourself in a secure marriage.”

“I will.”

“The luncheon will be all women but tell me which balls you’re attending, and I’ll see you introduced to good candidates.”

Surging forward, Sophie wrapped her arms around Tabbie. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s get some of these dresses on you. We’re about the same height and both slender, but I’m worried you have more bosom than I do.”

It turned out that she did have more bosom, which meant, for the first time in her life, she had cleavage coming out of the top of the gowns.

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