Page 4 of Solving Sophronia

“Those arrogant Casanovas.” Miss Miller scowled.

“I am sorry, Miss Lancaster,” Miss Kirby said.

Sophie sat in a leather wing chair on one side of the couch. Miss Thornton, from her matching chair on the other side, lifted a hand as if she might pat Miss Lancaster’s head, but lowered it again. She bit her lip, and her expression mirrored the others’ confusion at how to console the young lady.

Miss Lancaster spoke after a long bout of weeping. “I don’t understand. What am I to do now?” She took Miss Miller’s offered handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, sniffling. “My heart is shattered, and I... I simply can’t go on.” She choked on a sob. “I just can’t.”

“You most certainly can.” Miss Miller sat taller and spoke in a commanding voice. “The world will not end because you do not marry Lord Ruben.”

Miss Lancaster twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “But how could he do this? He loves me.”

“Men of his rank do not always have the privilege of marrying for love,” Miss Thornton said in a gentle voice.

“Perhaps it is best that you found out now what sort of man he is, instead of once you were married,” Miss Kirby offered.

Miss Lancaster glanced at her and then shook her head. “I shall never marry,” she said in a small voice. “Not after this.”

Sophie winced. The young lady’s reputation should remain intact, but Dahlia Lancaster’s name and humiliation would certainly be on everyone’s lips. A scandal indeed.

The poor woman sighed. She looked down at the handkerchief she was twisting and, noticing a ruby bracelet on her wrist, she loosened it and slipped it over her hand. “He gave the very same bangle to Lorene. He has...they’vekept their relationship secret. She was my dearest friend, and he...” Her lip quivered, but this time a spark of anger lit her eyes.

Sophie recognized the look. Frustration at knowing one was powerless to change her situation was all too familiar.

Miss Miller took the bracelet and studied it, shaking her head.

Sophie’s stomach was heavy with discouragement. All of these women wanted something different from the hand they’d been dealt, and all felt powerless to do anything about it.

“Well”—Miss Miller handed back the bracelet—“this could be a good opportunity.”

“Yes,” Sophie agreed. “You have a chance to do something new, to focus on yourself and your own ambitions.”

Miss Lancaster folded the wrinkled handkerchief in her lap and gave a delicate snort. “Ambitions? For the last two years my entire objective was to marry Ruben, and now...”

“Now you can stop worrying about him,” Miss Miller said. “You can do whatever you wish. Set a new course, become a new person, if you’d like.”

“I don’t have... I’ve never...” Miss Lancaster’s porcelain forehead wrinkled.

“Well, we shall do it with you, shan’t we, ladies?” Sophie looked at the others, raising her brows meaningfully. She hoped they would catch on and join in to bolster Miss Lancaster’s spirits. “I propose we each declare an objective we hope to accomplish.”

“A marvelous idea.” Miss Miller took her cousin’s hand and gave a

firm nod.

“I have an ambition,” Miss Kirby said. “I, Vivian Kirby, should like to complete my steam-engine model and enter it for display in the International Exhibition of Industry and Science.”

Sophie blinked, both surprised at the woman’s words and the confidence behind them. She’d never heard of a woman entering the International Exhibition. An ambitious objective indeed.

“Excellent, Miss Kirby,” Miss Miller said.

She gave a small smile and tipped her head. “Please, call me Vivian.”

Miss Miller replied with a nod and took Vivian’s hand. “I, Elizabeth Miller, wish to open a finishing school for young ladies of underprivileged upbringings.”

Sophie’s heart raced as she scooted off her chair to kneel in front of the sofa. She took Vivian’s free hand in hers, looked at each of the women, and took a breath. A solemn feeling came over her, as if she were making a vow. They were really doing this. They were taking charge of their lives. What had begun as simply a gesture to console Miss Lancaster had become something real. She let her breath out slowly. “I, Sophie Bremerton, would like to report a real story—something important that must be uncovered, for which I must review sources and verify facts. I want to be an actual newsagent.”

Vivian smiled in approval, and Elizabeth nodded.

The ladies turned to Miss Thornton.

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