Read Online The Arrangement by Mary Balogh - Free Book Online

always proved her correct. But was Lord Darleigh as capable? If he was lured outside the inn, would he know if he was led away out of sight of other guests? And would he know that Sir Clarence and Lady March would make good and sure that everyone else noticed the length and impropriety of his absence with their daughter?
    It took considerable courage to step inside the inn when she got there and ascend the stairs to the assembly rooms, from which a great deal of noise was spilling down to the ground floor and out onto the street. It sounded as if a merry jig was in progress and as if every inhabitant of the village and its neighborhood was trying to talk to every other inhabitant in a voice loud enough to be heard. And it sounded as if every listener—if there was anyone left to listen—was finding the conversation brilliantly funny and was showing appreciation by laughing uproariously.
    Sophia almost turned about and scurried home.
    But she reminded herself that she was not
really
a mouse. And that she was, in fact, a lady, and socially at least on a level with more than half the people here. She was not even sure she was naturally shy. She had never had the chance to find out.
    She went on up.
    She was confronted by the vicar almost as soon as she passed through the doorway. He beamed at her and extended his right hand.
    “I do not have the pleasure of your acquaintance, ma’am,” he bellowed above the music and the conversation and the laughter. “But may I presume upon the fact that you have sat in a pew in my church every Sunday for a couple of years or so and listened most attentively to my sermons, which put all too many of my parishioners to sleep, alas? I am Parsons, as you must know. And you are—?”
    Sophia set her hand within his. “Sophia Fry, sir.”
    “Miss Fry.” He patted the back of her hand with his free one. “Let me have Mrs. Parsons pour you a glass of lemonade.”
    And he led her past crowds of revelers to a table laden with food and drink. He introduced her to his wife, who nodded genially, tried to say something, and shrugged and widened her eyes and laughed when it became obvious that it was impossible to make herself heard.
    Sophia took her glass and went to find a corner of the room to sit in. Well, that had been easier than expected, she thought, sinking gratefully onto a vacant chair. Her aunt was some distance away—there was no mistaking her nodding royal blue plumes—and was gazing at her in some astonishment. Sophia pretended not to notice her. Aunt Martha could not really send her home, could she? And she would be quite happy to be a mouse for the rest of the evening. Well, almost happy. Sometimes her capacity for self-deception disturbed her.
    One couple pranced down between the lines, while the dancers who formed those lines clapped vigorously in time to the music. It all looked very jolly. Sophia found that one of her feet was tapping out the rhythm.
    It was not easy to see Viscount Darleigh, but it was very obvious that he had arrived. There was a particularly dense crowd of people just to the left of the door, mostly ladies, all focused happily upon someone who was lost in their midst. Sir Clarence was one of the few gentlemen there, and both Aunt Martha and Henrietta were doing their share of fawning. Who else would they be fawning over than the viscount? And she was quite right. After Sophia had been watching for several minutes, the set of country dances came to an end, the dancers drifted off the floor, the dense cluster by the door opened as if it were yet another door, and Henrietta emerged triumphant, on the arm of Viscount Darleigh, whom she proceeded to maneuver in a promenade about the perimeter of the assembly room.
    Henrietta was looking resplendent in another of her London ball gowns.
    The dancing resumed, a set of more stately dances this time, and Henrietta and the viscount promenaded until their steps brought them to the door and they disappeared through it.