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Authors: Alexandra Benedict
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interrupted by a steady stream that cut across the rolling lawn and reached deep into the forest.
The air was thick. Sophia was sheltered under an old and gnarled oak. The wide canopy of leaves offered shade, but the heat remained. She removed the delicate fan from her reticule and swatted at the humidity. But it wasn’t just the blistering weather making her uncomfortable.
There was a round of twitters.
Sophia was circled by pretty, spry debutantes fresh from finishing school. The Honorable Anastasia Bedford was the daughter of a baron. She boasted a fine pedigree that included foreign royalty. Miss Imogen Rayne wasn’t so well connected; however, the banker’s daughter was an accomplished singer, pianist, and multilinguist. Each lass possessed fine aristocratic traits, breeding and talent respectively. And both were Lady Rosamond’s dearest friends…making Sophia feel like the senescent matriarch in the group.
The giggling quieted as the girls sobered.
Rosamond glanced around the terrain, making sure they were all alone before she whispered earnestly, “We must talk about the ball, Miss Dawson.”
A spurt of alarm entered Sophia’s breast. “What about the ball?”
“You created a stir,” she said. “Even my brother is confounded.”
Sophia swallowed a groan. She eyed Lady Lucas. She and the other chaperones crossed a small wood bridge, following the earl on a tour of the grounds. It was too late to summon the woman to return, so Sophia fixed her thoughts firmly on the matron’s teachings and prepared to confront the dire matter herself.
“I don’t know what you mean, my lady.” The moisture between her fingers was uncomfortable, and Sophia flexed them in an effort to ease the discomfort. She had worked so hard to charm the earl, struggled to become a lady of manner and grace. Had one unfortunate waltz with the black devil ruined her courtship with Lord Baine? “How did I create a stir?”
“As the object of Captain Hawkins’s affection!”
Sophia was nauseous. She wasn’t accustomed to the wretched sensation. She had sailed aboard her father’s pirate ship on more than one occasion. She had sturdy sea legs. However, she wasn’t able to control the spinning images in her head, making her sick with vertigo.
“Are you all right, Miss Dawson?” Imogen pressed her palm to Sophia’s wrist. “You look unwell.”
“I’m fine.”
But Sophia wasn’t fine. She was breathing hard, moisture pooling between her breasts. She glanced at the circle of ladies. The looks!
Her head pulsed. The quiet chatter slowly evolved into a cacophony of laughter. The curious stares turned into cold and deliberate snubs.
“Well, we are all impressed with your charms, Miss Dawson,” said Rosamond.
Sophia beat the fan in quick strokes, overwhelmed by giddiness. Had James betrayed her? It seemed impossible. Surely he wouldn’t dishonor his beloved father’s name by breaking his vow. And yet…“My charms?”
Anastasia wrinkled her nose, as if to dispute Rosamond’s unanimous claim that they were all impressed with her charms.
“Oh yes.” Rosamond reached for a scone and smeared it with strawberry jam. “After four years in polite society, the surly captain has finally danced!”
Sophia was dumbfounded. “What?”
“You managed to capture the interest of the coldest, most intimidating bachelor in London.” Rosamond devoured the scone. “Brava!”
The blinding pressure in Sophia’s skull weakened. She wasn’t so sure she wanted the dubious distinction. Had the black devil really not danced a single dance since he’d entered society?
And then the throbbing pinch between her brows returned. It was just like the scoundrel to burden her with that distinction, bringing them both unwelcome attention.
We mustn’t let the earl think another man is courting you. Lord Baine is a gentleman. He might step aside if he believes the captain is interested in you…or he might search elsewhere for a bride if he thinks you are
The air was thick. Sophia was sheltered under an old and gnarled oak. The wide canopy of leaves offered shade, but the heat remained. She removed the delicate fan from her reticule and swatted at the humidity. But it wasn’t just the blistering weather making her uncomfortable.
There was a round of twitters.
Sophia was circled by pretty, spry debutantes fresh from finishing school. The Honorable Anastasia Bedford was the daughter of a baron. She boasted a fine pedigree that included foreign royalty. Miss Imogen Rayne wasn’t so well connected; however, the banker’s daughter was an accomplished singer, pianist, and multilinguist. Each lass possessed fine aristocratic traits, breeding and talent respectively. And both were Lady Rosamond’s dearest friends…making Sophia feel like the senescent matriarch in the group.
The giggling quieted as the girls sobered.
Rosamond glanced around the terrain, making sure they were all alone before she whispered earnestly, “We must talk about the ball, Miss Dawson.”
A spurt of alarm entered Sophia’s breast. “What about the ball?”
“You created a stir,” she said. “Even my brother is confounded.”
Sophia swallowed a groan. She eyed Lady Lucas. She and the other chaperones crossed a small wood bridge, following the earl on a tour of the grounds. It was too late to summon the woman to return, so Sophia fixed her thoughts firmly on the matron’s teachings and prepared to confront the dire matter herself.
“I don’t know what you mean, my lady.” The moisture between her fingers was uncomfortable, and Sophia flexed them in an effort to ease the discomfort. She had worked so hard to charm the earl, struggled to become a lady of manner and grace. Had one unfortunate waltz with the black devil ruined her courtship with Lord Baine? “How did I create a stir?”
“As the object of Captain Hawkins’s affection!”
Sophia was nauseous. She wasn’t accustomed to the wretched sensation. She had sailed aboard her father’s pirate ship on more than one occasion. She had sturdy sea legs. However, she wasn’t able to control the spinning images in her head, making her sick with vertigo.
“Are you all right, Miss Dawson?” Imogen pressed her palm to Sophia’s wrist. “You look unwell.”
“I’m fine.”
But Sophia wasn’t fine. She was breathing hard, moisture pooling between her breasts. She glanced at the circle of ladies. The looks!
Her head pulsed. The quiet chatter slowly evolved into a cacophony of laughter. The curious stares turned into cold and deliberate snubs.
“Well, we are all impressed with your charms, Miss Dawson,” said Rosamond.
Sophia beat the fan in quick strokes, overwhelmed by giddiness. Had James betrayed her? It seemed impossible. Surely he wouldn’t dishonor his beloved father’s name by breaking his vow. And yet…“My charms?”
Anastasia wrinkled her nose, as if to dispute Rosamond’s unanimous claim that they were all impressed with her charms.
“Oh yes.” Rosamond reached for a scone and smeared it with strawberry jam. “After four years in polite society, the surly captain has finally danced!”
Sophia was dumbfounded. “What?”
“You managed to capture the interest of the coldest, most intimidating bachelor in London.” Rosamond devoured the scone. “Brava!”
The blinding pressure in Sophia’s skull weakened. She wasn’t so sure she wanted the dubious distinction. Had the black devil really not danced a single dance since he’d entered society?
And then the throbbing pinch between her brows returned. It was just like the scoundrel to burden her with that distinction, bringing them both unwelcome attention.
We mustn’t let the earl think another man is courting you. Lord Baine is a gentleman. He might step aside if he believes the captain is interested in you…or he might search elsewhere for a bride if he thinks you are
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