Sophia’s eye in the mirror and smiled. “Just look at the wonderful times we have had since then. I really do love him, you know, and I didn’t think a person like me was capable of love.”
“Sophia, that’s nonsense. I know life has been difficult for you, but you are the most loving, giving, fun person I have ever had the good fortune to know.” Nia flashed an impish smile. “To say nothing of the fact that you talk to me about all sorts of interesting things that most people would deem inappropriate.”
And she did. Nia knew all about the various men who had kept Sophia in style before she happened upon her grandfather. Nia could well understand how Sophia had caught those gentlemen’s attention. She had seen some of the sketches Grandpapa had made of her twenty years ago—sketches that formed part of his private collection, never available for public viewing. Sophia’s vivaciousness radiated from the paper, and Grandpapa had skilfully captured her sensuality and that certain something in her expression—a delicacy and susceptibility that would appeal to any man’s protective instincts.
Sophia was no longer in the first flush of youth, and her body had spread along with the passing years, but she was still vibrant, beautiful in a faded sort of way, delightfully irreverent and quite shockingly outspoken. Sometimes Nia thought she would join her grandfather and lose her wits completely, were it not for Sophia and Hannah—so different, but between them the bedrock of Nia’s struggle to keep her family’s collective heads above water.
“We’re a right mixture, and no mistake,” Sophia said, echoing Nia’s thoughts. “There’s me, a has-been harlot who’s no better than she ought to be. Hannah, who was your father’s nursemaid and as reliable as it’s possible for a woman to be. And then there’s you. Pretty as a picture but too blind to see it, working your fingers to the bone to try and atone for the hedonistic pleasures that have seen your family reduced almost to bankruptcy.” Sophia’s smile was broad and infectious. “And they say opposites don’t attract.”
“You said it yourself just now. Had your mother not died when you were young, your future might have been very different. We have each make the best of the hand we are dealt, I suppose, and there’s not much point complaining too loud.”
“Precisely, so why you insist upon remaining in England defeats me. Stubbornness runs in your family and I hate to see what it’s doing to you.” Sophia’s voice softened. “Why don’t you take your grandfather back to that monstrosity of a house in Ireland straight away? We both know it is where he wants to finish his days, and I dare say I shall adapt to the wind and rain soon enough.” She grinned. “I’ve endured worse privations.”
“Oh, Sophia, don’t you think I would if I could?”
“Yes, I reckon I do.” She paused. “Well, if you won’t do that, can’t I persuade you to auction off those sketches your grandfather did of me all those years ago?”
“No!”
“You can’t afford to be sentimental, love.”
“It’s not that. It’s just the thought of your…well, nude body being displayed to all and sundry that upsets me.”
Sophia chortled. “Bless you, darling, but after the life I’ve led, I’m hardly going to be worried about that. In fact, I would rather enjoy the notoriety.”
Nia smiled. “I’m sure you would, but I don’t want to do it. But it is not only up to me. I shall see what Sean has to say when he returns. If he doesn’t bring good news it might come to that, but I do worry that it will show Grandpapa in a desperate light.”
“How so?” Sophia tugged at a stubborn curl. “Ouch!”
“Sorry.”
“Releasing old sketches for profit, I mean,” Nia said, returning to the subject under discussion. “After all, we are trying to pretend all is well with his world and that he has turned to landscapes from a position of
“Sophia, that’s nonsense. I know life has been difficult for you, but you are the most loving, giving, fun person I have ever had the good fortune to know.” Nia flashed an impish smile. “To say nothing of the fact that you talk to me about all sorts of interesting things that most people would deem inappropriate.”
And she did. Nia knew all about the various men who had kept Sophia in style before she happened upon her grandfather. Nia could well understand how Sophia had caught those gentlemen’s attention. She had seen some of the sketches Grandpapa had made of her twenty years ago—sketches that formed part of his private collection, never available for public viewing. Sophia’s vivaciousness radiated from the paper, and Grandpapa had skilfully captured her sensuality and that certain something in her expression—a delicacy and susceptibility that would appeal to any man’s protective instincts.
Sophia was no longer in the first flush of youth, and her body had spread along with the passing years, but she was still vibrant, beautiful in a faded sort of way, delightfully irreverent and quite shockingly outspoken. Sometimes Nia thought she would join her grandfather and lose her wits completely, were it not for Sophia and Hannah—so different, but between them the bedrock of Nia’s struggle to keep her family’s collective heads above water.
“We’re a right mixture, and no mistake,” Sophia said, echoing Nia’s thoughts. “There’s me, a has-been harlot who’s no better than she ought to be. Hannah, who was your father’s nursemaid and as reliable as it’s possible for a woman to be. And then there’s you. Pretty as a picture but too blind to see it, working your fingers to the bone to try and atone for the hedonistic pleasures that have seen your family reduced almost to bankruptcy.” Sophia’s smile was broad and infectious. “And they say opposites don’t attract.”
“You said it yourself just now. Had your mother not died when you were young, your future might have been very different. We have each make the best of the hand we are dealt, I suppose, and there’s not much point complaining too loud.”
“Precisely, so why you insist upon remaining in England defeats me. Stubbornness runs in your family and I hate to see what it’s doing to you.” Sophia’s voice softened. “Why don’t you take your grandfather back to that monstrosity of a house in Ireland straight away? We both know it is where he wants to finish his days, and I dare say I shall adapt to the wind and rain soon enough.” She grinned. “I’ve endured worse privations.”
“Oh, Sophia, don’t you think I would if I could?”
“Yes, I reckon I do.” She paused. “Well, if you won’t do that, can’t I persuade you to auction off those sketches your grandfather did of me all those years ago?”
“No!”
“You can’t afford to be sentimental, love.”
“It’s not that. It’s just the thought of your…well, nude body being displayed to all and sundry that upsets me.”
Sophia chortled. “Bless you, darling, but after the life I’ve led, I’m hardly going to be worried about that. In fact, I would rather enjoy the notoriety.”
Nia smiled. “I’m sure you would, but I don’t want to do it. But it is not only up to me. I shall see what Sean has to say when he returns. If he doesn’t bring good news it might come to that, but I do worry that it will show Grandpapa in a desperate light.”
“How so?” Sophia tugged at a stubborn curl. “Ouch!”
“Sorry.”
“Releasing old sketches for profit, I mean,” Nia said, returning to the subject under discussion. “After all, we are trying to pretend all is well with his world and that he has turned to landscapes from a position of
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