Page 6 of To Woo and to Wed
Surely, despite their closeness—despite the fact that they saw each other nearly daily, dined together multiple evenings a week, went forlong walks in the park together, shared their deepest thoughts and fears…
Surely Alex wouldn’t turn down Blackford’s proposal, for all of that?
Would she?
Sophie watched her sister. Given Alexandra’s strange behavior at breakfast, Sophie had little faith that she’d get an honest answer from her, were she to ask directly.
She meant to find an answer—though she wasn’t entirely certain what she intended to do about it—and that meant she needed to have a conversation with the Earl of Blackford.
Soon.
So it looked like she would, indeed, be going to the Northdale ball.
“I’ve never been so pleased to be back in civilization in all my life.” This was uttered in tones of deep satisfaction by Diana, who was nursing a glass of champagne and surveying the crowded ballroom with a sharp eye.
“I do not think Cornwall is entirely removed from civilization,” Sophie said, taking a sip from the champagne flute in her own hand. “And besides, I rather thought you were enjoying yourself.”
“She was,” put in Lord Willingham. “She just doesn’t want to admit that her brother was right and she was wrong.”
Diana cut a narrow look at her husband. “I wasn’twrong. I merely had concerns about Penvale relocating to a remote clifftop with a woman he’d barely exchanged two words with.”
“I like Jane,” Sophie said mildly, in regards to Penvale’s new viscountess. “I think she’s very amusing.”
“As do I,” Willingham—Jeremy, to his friends—said. “Anyone who can irritate Diana so thoroughly earns my stamp of approval.” He reached out and clinked his own glass against Sophie’s, and they exchanged a grin.
“How lovely to see you two so chummy,” Diana said, watching this exchange. “Does it remind you of other, more intimate moments?”
Both Sophie and Jeremy choked on their champagne, which had undoubtedly been Diana’s aim; she was perfectly well aware of—and entirely unbothered by—the fact that Jeremy and Sophie had had a brief affair the previous summer, before Diana and Jeremy had fallen in love. (Or, in Sophie’s personal opinion, before Diana and Jeremy hadadmittedthat they’d fallen in love.)
“Diana, what have you done to poor Jeremy and Sophie?” asked Emily, materializing at Sophie’s side, her blue eyes wide and concerned. She was wearing a gown of yellow silk and looked, as ever, utterly luminous. Her husband hovered protectively at her elbow.
“Just reminiscing fondly about old times,” Diana said with a serene smile.
“Quite,” Sophie said, recovering her power of speech now that most of the champagne seemed to have exited her windpipe.
“How… nice,” Emily said, a bit uncertainly.
“Isn’t it?” Diana asked cheerfully. She wound her arm through Jeremy’s and turned to Emily’s husband, Julian. “Belfry, is that your brother over there? I saw him at a dinner party the other evening and…”
Diana’s words faded into the background as Sophie wheeled around quickly, looking in the direction Diana had indicated. And,indeed, just a few feet away she saw the Earl of Blackford deep in conversation with Lord James Audley and his wife, Violet. This was too perfect an opportunity to pass up.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said abruptly.
“Sophie!” Violet cried as she approached. “You look lovely tonight, wherever did you find the fabric for that gown?”
Sophie glanced down; when she had ended her mourning and half-mourning periods, she had commissioned a new wardrobe for herself—one a bit more daring, a bit more colorful than what she’d worn during her marriage. Fitz wouldn’t have minded any of these gowns, precisely, but Sophie had spent the duration of her marriage acutely aware of the reasons she’d wed—of the four younger sisters who needed to make successful matches of their own. The entire point of her marriage had been to ease their way, so she’d always done her best not to call attention to herself, to float beneath the level oftongossip.
But she was no longer a wife. And all of her sisters had been happily wed—until Alexandra’s widowhood, of course. To Sophie’s mind, she had accomplished what she’d set out to do, and therefore, upon reentering society, she thought that she might do something thatshewanted to do, for a change. She’d taken considerable delight in commissioning a wardrobe that was precisely what she wished. The gown she wore tonight was a deep-purple silk, with small pearls encrusting the cap sleeves.
“I shall give you the name of my modiste,” she promised Violet, and then turned to the man standing next to her. “Lord Blackford.”
Blackford, always a gentleman, bowed over her hand. “Lady Fitzwilliam. You are looking lovely this evening. I believe you are recently returned from Cornwall? The seaside clearly agrees with you.”
“Thank you,” Sophie said, offering him a smile. “Did my sister inform you of my recent travels, then?”
“She did indeed.”
“How lovely that you two have grown so close in my absence,” Sophie said. “I have been so eager for Alexandra to find happiness again.”
