Page 27 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

CHAPTER9

“There it is! Oh, Mama—I can see the house through the trees!”

Henry jumped up and down in his seat and leaned out of the carriage window.

“Henry!” Sophia cried.

“Never mind, I’ve got him!”

Colonel FitzRoy grasped Sophia’s son by the waist, and placed him firmly back on the seat. “Not so fast, young man! Do you want to give your mother a fright before we’ve even arrived?”

“Sorry, Adrian,” Henry said, his face reddening.

“You should apologize to your mother, not me,” FitzRoy said, his tone stern.

“Sorry, Mama.”

Sophia took her son’s hand. She could feel his body trembling with excitement, and she had no wish to curtail his joy. How long had it been since she’d visited the country? Too long—and Henry would have been too young to remember.

And just as well. It had been the day of Papa’s funeral, the day his heir turned Sophia out of the house, leaving her destitute, with a young son in her arms. Had it not been for Mrs. Huntington, Sophia had no idea how she would have survived.

But survive she had.

FitzRoy leaned toward her. “Are you well, Mrs. Black?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good,” he said. “And now, perhaps I can claim your attention for the rest of the drive. The aspect from the road at this point is something I particularly wish you to see.

He sat back.

“Do you not wish to see the view yourself?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “I’ve seen it countless times. I will gain far more pleasure from seeing your reaction to it—and young Henry’s, provided he refrains from leaping out of the window.”

Her heart lifted at the warmth in his eyes, then he nodded toward the window.

“Go on—you don’t want to miss it.”

The road ran through a forest. Dappled light shone through the trees, forming a mottled pattern on the ground. As the road curved around in a wide arc, the trees thinned out to reveal a moderately sized mansion formed of soft red stone, illuminated in the light of the setting sun.

He rapped against the side, and the carriage drew to a halt. Sophia looked out of the window, pulling Henry beside her.

In front of the mansion was a lake. The plaintive sound of a moorhen echoed across the water and she spotted a line of shapes floating across the surface—one small shape followed by four smaller versions. A duck and her ducklings. A wall stretched from one side of the building. In the middle of the wall was an archway, leading into a garden, through which Sophia could see rose and lavender bushes and an armillary sphere. Behind the building, tall trees rose like silent sentinels watching over the estate.

A rose bush had been trained up the building either side of the main entrance. Dark, glossy foliage shone in the sunlight, punctuated by splashes of soft yellow.

The man beside her gave a soft sigh.

“Roseborough House—what do you think?”

The usually confident tone of the sophisticated rake had been replaced by the uncertainty of a boy wanting approval from an adult.

“I love it!” Henry exclaimed. “It’s so pretty, isn’t it, Mama?”

Sophia placed her hands on the window frame and leaned out. “It’s charming,” she said.

FitzRoy sighed. “I only wish it were grander.”

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