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all my surroundings
were beginning to blur grew
stronger. I could see the looking glass above the mantelpiece quite clearly and hear the distinctive
tick of the clock, but now I could
see that there were flames in the unlit grate, which was strange, as I’d not even raked out the coals
from the night before. The
light from the windows shone very luminously, forcing me to blink back the tears that welled at the
overwhelming brightness. When
I brushed them aside, I could see that although the room had reverted to the dim afternoon light of
before, now t here were other
people in the room with me.

Chapter Eight
     
    I stared at
them, not knowing quite what to feel. Even though I had no idea who they were; I didn’t feel frightened
immediately, it was as if they
belonged in the room. I can’t explain it any other way, but I felt a part of the whole picture. There was a man
standing by the windows talking
to a lady who looked so familiar, I immediately felt at ease even if I couldn’t think why. Dressed
in a long gown of dark, printed
cotton, her grey hair curled under a lace cap. The man in breeches with a dark blue coat over a frilled
shirt wore his short hair
brushed forward and was very animated as he talked, waving his arms about. I couldn’t hear what they were
saying, but it clearly had
something to do with the very pretty girl who sat on a chaise longue on the other side of the fireplace. Dressed
in sheer, embroidered
muslin, she wore a silk shawl around her shoulders with her hair swept up onto the top of her head in
elaborate curls that fell around
her face. A pink slipper nudging under her hem was beribboned with a silk rose, which trembled as her
foot tapped up and down with
more than a little impatience. As if trapped in a dream that felt far more real than any dream I’d
ever had, I watched them become more
than the shadows they had appeared at first.
    Then, to my
great shock, the gentleman turned to me and spoke. For the first time, I could hear him.
    ‘And, where have
you been all morning, Sophia?’
    Tall and with an
imposing air, his whole appearance suggested fastidious observance of fashion. From his
carefully dressed “Grecian”
hairstyle and elaborately tied neckcloth stiffly arranged above an exquisitely embroidered waistcoat, down to
his coat and tight, moulded
breeches cut with precision, I wondered how he would manage to undress. No wonder he had such a
pained expression
– his breeches were clearly causing him grief.
    ‘I’ve been out
walking in the gardens with the Miss Austens, Papa,’ I heard myself say.
    ‘Yes, I saw you
in company with them from the window. They are a respectable enough family, I suppose, if one
wishes to be seen with a country curate and his spinster daughters, but a clergyman is nothing in society. He has no
influence or importance, and no
one wishes to know him better. His daughters will frighten away your suitors if you allow them any kind of
intimacy. Such independent
creatures, and what airs they give themselves considering their questionable position amongst the
noble families of Bath. As for
the mother, who lets everyone know of her far distant connection to the Leighs of Stoneleigh, her
society is intolerable. I
heard her braying at someone in the Pump Rooms the other day, pronouncing in a loud voice that she is
very proud of her aristocratic
nose. Gentlefolk do not have to degrade themselves by resorting to such devices in order to get
introductions. If you see them
again, I would prefer that you cut them.’
    I stared, not
knowing how to answer the disagreeable man that I had just addressed as my father, but whilst I
hesitated, the words were
already being spoken.
    ‘I have an
engagement, Father, with the Miss Austens on the morrow. I am looking forward to it very much and I
have every intention of
fulfilling their most kind invitation.’
    The room was
suddenly quiet except for the ticking of the Sèvres clock on the mantelpiece and the fire
crackling in