Page 26 of Seducing Sophia (Scholars of Seduction)

CHAPTER8

“My dear Sophia, are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Sophia hadn’t even had the chance to sit before Mrs. Huntington had begun her opening salvo. Her voice was as authoritative as usual. Lysetta would have made an excellent schoolmistress—or, perhaps, an army general.

“I take it you’ve heard?” Sophia asked.

“What—that you’ve been invited to spend the weekend at Colonel FitzRoy’s estate in the country?”

“Roseborough isn’t far from London, Lysetta,” Sophia said. “It’s only a morning’s ride.”

“I’m not concerned about the distance.”

Mrs. Huntington poured a cup of tea and handed it to Sophia.

“We know very little about him.”

“On the contrary, I know a great deal,” Sophia said. “He’s the younger son of an earl, has served his country in battle and sustained an injury in doing so. One might even call him a hero. He’s an accomplished pianist with an ear for music, and the ability to articulate it well.”

“Meaning?”

“That he is in possession of a soul. Men are notoriously reticent when it comes to revealing their feelings when they speak. But all creatures reveal their souls through the expression of music.”

Mrs. Huntington reached for Sophia’s hand.

“Please take care, my friend,” she said. “I wouldn’t wish to see you hurt again. You’ve done so well to build up an independent life for yourself.”

“With your help,” Sophia said.

“I merely provided you with a home—for which you pay rent, so I might argue that you’re the one helping me.” Her tone softened and she gave Sophia a sad smile.

“I only caution you out of friendship—and love.”

“I understand,” Sophia replied. “But you needn’t worry about me, Lysetta. I’m no fool. Past experience has taught me caution. Rest assured, I am in no danger of being rejected or abandoned by a man—again.”

Mrs. Huntington curled her fingers around Sophia’s wrist. One finger was twisted and distorted—the mark of Lysetta’s past life. But she never spoke about it. Neither did any of the women here. Their pasts were just that—histories and identities best forgotten. Summerton Hall was a haven from a world ruled by prejudice and male supremacy.

All of them had a past—orphans with no home, illegitimate daughters tucked away for fear they taint the bloodline, abandoned wives, fallen women. But they all shared the same thing—the desire to better their lives, to enjoy the fulfilment to be gained from an honest, independent living.

“I’m not afraid of you being rejected or abandoned, my dear,” Mrs. Huntington said. “I’m afraid of the opposite—that a man will claim you.”

Sophia placed a hand over Mrs. Huntington’s. “Not all men are evil, Lysetta,” she said. “We must learn who to trust and who not to trust.”

“Do you trust this man?”

“I trust my instincts,” Sophia said. “When I was younger I was blinded by love, and foolish. But experience has taught me to observe the behavior of others and not let my judgement be impaired by childish dreams. Colonel FitzRoy may be something of a rake, but he has a kind heart. And Henry adores him.”

“I’m not about to tell you what to do, Sophia,” Mrs. Huntington said. “I counsel only out of concern for you—and your son. As all the women here, you are free to do what—and with whom—you choose. But FitzRoy is friends with the Duke of Peterton. And, as you know, Peterton’s been plaguing me with his attempts to purchase Summerton Hall. I fear once he realizes I am not open to any legitimate offers, that he will adopt more nefarious means.”

“The duke has many acquaintances, including Colonel FitzRoy,” Sophia said. “And I’ll do nothing to jeopardize your reputation, or your position here—you must know that.”

“Yes, of course, Sophia. Perhaps I’m worrying unnecessarily. I may never find myself in the position of being able to trust a man again, but, at least, I can trust you.”

Mrs. Huntington glanced at the clock. “I believe your next pupil is due. I’ll send for Tilly to clear away the tea things.”

Sophia rose to her feet. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Huntington smiled. “You must forgive me for being overcautious,” she said. “Being childless myself, I often find myself imagining that all of you living here are my children. As long as you and Henry are happy, then I shall be content. But you must promise you’ll guard your…”

“My virtue?” Sophia laughed. “I had that taken away from me years ago.”

“Virtue is an illusion perpetuated by society,” Mrs. Huntington said. “Break it and you only become stronger—as we have all proven. No—I would counsel you to guard your heart.”

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