Miss Sophie's Secret (6 page)

“Let us begin with five,” Lady Biskup said. “And a new riding dress, and five simple gowns. I shall require the same.”

Madame Young’s cheeks grew pink with excitement. “Yes, yes, it has always been a pleasure to dress your ladyship.”

When Lady Biskup and Sophie were settled into comfortable chairs and plied with tea, Madame Young’s wares were paraded before them. After her long exile at Vaile Priory, Sophie was unprepared for the beauty of the lush fabrics and vivid hues that were presented to her. China silks in the richest colors, sprigged muslins of a delicacy that she had not dreamed possible. By the time the order was totaled, Lady Biskup had indulged her niece in the purchase of seven simple dresses, six ball gowns, and nine walking dresses. She had been denied only one of the ensembles that she could “not live without,” and that was a peach and green afternoon dress that both Lady Biskup and Madame Young had agreed was designed for a much more mature lady from a different walk of life.

“And now I am utterly exhausted,” Lady Biskup announced. “We shall be obliged to leave the selection of boots and bonnets until tomorrow.”

They were ushered out of the shop by Madame, still bobbing and weaving and exclaiming with pleasure. As they passed a small side room, they could see two fashionable ladies at a table, selecting gloves. Both turned to stare pointedly, and Lady Biskup gave them a stiff nod of her head.

Outside on the pavement she whispered to Sophie, “That was Barbara Harris and Virginia Cherrill. I hope you observed their features and will take care not to allow them to catch you in the slightest indiscretion, as they are the most devout busybodies in England. You may rest assured that before evening the entire ton will be cognizant of the fact that we have visited Madame Young’s and made a great many expensive purchases.”

Sophie smiled. “The sooner they do, the better, as I wish to have Lady Englewood relent. Jeanette suggested that we attend the theater with her party this evening. Kean is presenting a new play which promises to be wonderfully frightening, she says.”

“It sounds delightful,” Lady Biskup said. “If we do not receive a cordial invitation from the silly goose before evening, we shall prevail upon Jonathan to escort us.”

As the carriage step was let down and a footman prepared to assist Lady Biskup into their carriage, Sophie stood smiling contentedly to herself. The morning wind had faded and the sun was now falling benevolently on cheeks and shoulders. She turned slowly, watching the fashionable ladies and gentlemen who were going about their business.

Strolling toward her were two unusually handsome young men, one blond and one strikingly brunette. The brunette had cocked his hat jauntily over his left eye and wore his immaculate togs smoothed so neatly over his excellent figure that Sophie couldn’t help but stare. He was chatting affably with his companion, nodding his head from time to time and chuckling.

Suddenly Sophie recognized him. She inhaled sharply and put a hand over her heart. A moment later his vibrant blue eyes were upon her. He peered scornfully at her dowdy walking dress and raised his eyes to consider her face. His brows rising sharply, he stopped in his tracks.

“Albert,” she breathed.

His gaze moved to Vaile’s old carriage.

“Albert!” she repeated, this time loudly enough for him to hear her.

For a moment he hesitated. Then his mouth tightened, and turning away, he strode off rapidly in the opposite direction. His companion, momentarily at a loss, stared after his friend in confusion, then turned back to peer curiously at Sophie. Finally he collected his wits and scampered off in pursuit of De Lisle. To Sophie’s surprise, Lady Biskup chuckled.

“But he recognized me, Aunt Ruth,” she said, her chin trembling. “He deliberately cut us, just as Lady Englewood did.”

“Yes,” Lady Biskup agreed in a lowered voice. “But don’t speak of it here. Be patient.”

Sophie was silent. Her throat constricted so tightly she could hardly swallow as the footman assisted her into the carriage and the coachman set his team in motion.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered as the coach lurched forward.

“No,” Lady Biskup agreed. “But in time you shall.”

* * * *

During the journey home, Sophie bit her lips and forced the tears back, as she knew Lady Biskup had little patience with self-pity. By the time they reached Vaile House, her head was aching and her eyes stung. She had hoped to find Jonathan there—it would have been a great comfort to pour out her troubles into his ear. He would have reassured her gently, she was confident. But to her consternation she was informed by Leeds that Master Jonathan had gone out. He had left word that he would not be home until dinner, as he was off in search of a carriage works where he meant to order a new conveyance for her ladyship.

Pressing a handkerchief over her mouth to stifle a sob, Sophie scurried up the stairs to her bedroom. She was sitting at her dressing table, giving vent to her misery, when Anna entered the room through a small side door.

“’Ere, ’ere now, miss,” she protested. “No more o’ this! You’ll spoil yer complexion afore yer first party. Tsk, tsk. Sure, our loss o’ Lord Reginald be dreadful—”

“No, you don’t understand,” Sophie insisted. “I’m not crying for the Priory, nor even Lord Reginald. I’ve had the most upsetting experience today.”

As Sophie spoke, the maid raised her head, removed the pins from her hair, and gently began to brush out the curls.

“I still cannot believe it,” Sophie went on. “I have met Albert de Lisle on the street—my own dearest love these past four years—and he has chosen not to recognize me.”

Anna’s hand hesitated halfway down a stroke, and then resumed brushing more forcefully. “Well, indeed, an’ woot could he ’a been aboot? Takin’ such airs, an’ ’im no more’n a pauper wi’ a title no better’n naught. ’E should throw ’isself at yer feet.”

By this time she was stroking so vigorously that Sophie had to put up her hand and catch the girl by the wrist.

“Please, Anna, I’ll not have a single hair left on my head.”

“Sorry, miss,” the maid said, abating her ardor. “But truly, Miss Sophie, put ’im oot o’ yer mind an’ turn to them as worth yer notice.”

Sophie sighed. “Not easily done, Anna. For four years I’ve thought of nothing but the day when I should meet Albert again. In my dreams I’ve slipped my hand through his arm and strolled endless imaginary miles under leafy bowers . . . weak with happiness. It is all I have ever required of life.” The tears spilled out onto her cheeks again. “The truth of the matter is that I love him with all my heart and can never love another.”

“Nonsense!” Anna sputtered, giving her brush an emphatic jerk through her mistress’s locks. “Forget ’im, miss! There be oondreds finer.”

Sophie put a hand to her aching scalp. “None handsomer, though, I swear. His eyes are even bluer and more beautiful than I remembered. And his hair curls around his temple in the most charming way—not to mention the fact that his legs are the shapeliest you have ever beheld and show to such advantage in the tight-fitting trousers men are wearing these days.”

“For shame, miss,” Anna chided. “Young men’s limbs be ’ardly a topic f’ a gentle born young lady.”

Sophie felt hot color climb her cheeks. “Well, one cannot ignore them when they are right there in plain sight.”

“One c’n turn away. It’s what I do when Johnnie Aysgarth puts ’is boot up onto fender and poses ’isself, to seem more of a mon. I raises m’ brows like so.” She lifted her eyebrows and nose, and pursed her lips haughtily. “I turn m’ face aboot. Indeed, miss, th’ mon should be took doon a peg.”

Sophie sniffled. “I shall never have the opportunity to take Albert down a peg. He has turned his back on me.”

Anna put the hairbrush down and stepped back from the dressing table. As she planted her hands on her hips and opened her mouth, it was apparent that she was about to impart a great deal more wisdom to her mistress. But before she could get a word out, there was a rumble of carriage wheels on the cobbles of the courtyard below.

Both Sophie and Anna held their breath for a moment, listening. The wheels stopped and there were sounds of a jingling harness, then the creak of wood and leather, and finally the crunching of feet on loose gravel. Anna bounded to the window and peered out. She gasped.

“’T be silly Lady Englewood an’ beautiful Miss Jeanette. Coo!” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Miss Jeanette be a goddess.”

Sophie rose unsteadily to her feet. “Lady Englewood? What can have happened to bring her around so soon? Aunt Ruth said she would change her mind, of course, but it’s not even an hour since she . . .” She rushed back to her dressing table and peered anxiously into the mirror. “Quick, Anna! You must make me presentable. What will you do for my reddened eyes?”

By the time Anna had helped her mistress into a fresh gown and arranged her hair in a simple style, Sophie’s eyes were nearly back to normal, and she rushed off down the stairs to the yellow salon where Jeanette and Lady Englewood were already in conversation with Lady Biskup.

Jeanette rose to her feet and came toward her the moment Sophie entered the room, greeting her with a glowing smile. Lady Englewood merely raised her eyebrows and peered crossly at the new arrival, gesturing for her to approach.

“Well, indeed the girl has not turned out too badly,” she observed. “You have managed well enough with inferior clay, Ruth. But you must not allow her to wander about in those dreadful clothes. You must keep her hidden away until her new wardrobe arrives, else I shall be hard put to explain her appearance.”

“There is no need for you to explain our appearance, Blanche,” Lady Biskup replied in an icy voice.

“But there is!” the woman insisted. “Everyone knows that we are related. How can I excuse my family’s display of such eccentricity? I am confident I shall die of mortification—her appearance is a reflection on us all.”

“Nonsense!”

“But of course you shall soon take your place in society, and I shall have no need to be anxious about you,” Lady Englewood continued, ignoring her hostess’s protests. Her face took on a sly expression. “Since you have inherited this most excellent house, no one can turn his back on you.”

“Ah,” Lady Biskup said, putting her hands up. “Have I inherited it? Now I understand you. This excellent house has restored your affection for your country cousins. But how did you come to conclude that I had inherited anything, pray? I have never said so.”

Lady Englewood chuckled. “So it is our dear little Sophie who has become an heiress. My child, you must come to know your cousin Nicky better.”

“Mama!” Jeanette protested. “You’ve no notion how unfortunately you have phrased that. Of course Nicky will wish to know Sophie better—she is a delightful girl in every way. Ellen Joysey will also wish to become her friend.” She turned to Sophie with a smile. “Ellen and Nicky will undoubtedly announce their engagement within the next fortnight.”

“No, no, no,” her mother cried, waving her hands. “How have you arrived at such a notion? Ellen is quite unsuitable for your brother—she does not have more than twenty thousand pounds. I shall do everything in my power to see that he comes to know our little Sophie and appreciate her as he should.”

Lady Biskup was smiling. “I have not said that Sophie is an heiress, Blanche. You must not be so precipitate.”

Lady Englewood hesitated, frowning. “Now, Ruth, you must tell me everything as I cannot know how to proceed if you do not.”

“Then you shall be obliged to fumble about in the dark, my love,” Lady Biskup said on a laugh. “This will be amusing, indeed.”

Lady Englewood rose indignantly to her feet. “What an odious cousin you are, Ruth—and always have been! I see no reason why you should not tell me flat out whether Sophie is rich enough to make a proper bride for Nicky.”

“Because you will promptly bray the news all over town, you peagoose!” Lady Biskup snapped. “And then I shall either be besieged by fortune hunters, or if I deny that she is the possessor of vast wealth, we’ll be shunned by society. I shall not allow myself nor my niece to suffer either of these fates. You must all of you speculate on our situation and act according to our real worth.”

Lady Englewood reseated herself and pulled down her lips in an expression of intense concentration.

“Real worth? What on earth can you mean by that? You are in this house, therefore, you must—one of  you—own it, or you must, somehow, have obtained the use of it. What can that imply?” Her eyebrows rose as a thought struck her. “And you have somehow obtained enough money to buy a great many new gowns.”

“That is true,” Lady Biskup conceded. “Continue with your speculations. They are most amusing.”

Lady Englewood stood again and stamped her foot. “You are the most exasperating person I have ever dealt with, and you have always been so! I believe there is not one ounce of human kindness in your entire makeup.”

Sophie raised a hand in protest. “Indeed, you are mistaken, ma’am. My aunt is the kindest, most generous person in the entire world!”

“My dearest child!” Lady Biskup said with affection.

“You are way off, my girl,” Lady Englewood observed. “But I must overlook her teasing and accept you both into my bosom until I have delved deeper into these mysteries. And I hold your secrecy very much against you, Ruth. I would never treat you so shabbily. I see no reason why you cannot tell me the state of your affairs. How did dear Reginald leave you after all the years you looked after Sophie? Did he provide you with a bequest? Or an income? Who owns this house? It was not entailed, as I understood it, and therefore was not required to pass on to the new Lord Vail.”

Tears formed in her eyes and oozed out onto her cheeks. With trembling hands, she drew a handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed at the offending moisture. “Your long years sequestered in the country have dealt most unkindly with your nature,” she continued. “You have become quite cruel and heartless. How can you taunt me, your own sister-in-law, in this manner?”

“Now, now,” Lady Biskup protested, suddenly contrite. “It is not my intention to tease you, Blanche. I shall confess to you that I cannot answer all these questions, as I do not know the answers to them myself. I quarreled violently with that odious Mr. Sanders, Reginald’s man of business. He spoke to me in the most condescending way, refusing to answer me, telling me in unctuous tones that I was a mere woman and would not understand the simplest rudiments of finance. I became so infuriated that I ordered him out of the house and I haven’t seen him since.”