him.”
“You love him still, then?” There was a gleam of triumph in Sophia’s eyes. “You have not spent any time with him today, have you? But you are bound to feel strange together at first. You will be more at ease as time goes on.”
“Sophia,” the countess said.
“You are ten times lovelier than she is, anyway,” the girl said.
“She?” Olivia raised her eyebrows.
“Lady Mornington,” Sophia blurted. “You know about her, don’t you? She is Papa’s mistress. But not nearly so lovely as you and he must see it, too, now that you have come home.”
Olivia swallowed. Still Lady Mornington, then? After six years? His liaison had lasted longer than his marriage? He must love the woman, then. A more lasting love than his first had been.
“Sophia,” she said gently, “I am not here to stay. I am here only so that Papa and I can discuss your future with you and each other without the awkwardness of exchanging letters. As soon as everything is settled one way or the other, I shall be going home again. Rushton is my home. This is Papa’s home. But we have strayed a long way from the subject I wished to discuss with you.”
Sophia smiled radiantly at her. “No, we have not,”she said. “When Francis and I are betrothed, you and Papa and I can discuss the wedding. It will be much easier than trying to do it by letter. And since we wish to have the banns read as soon as the betrothal is announced, you might as well stay for the wedding. It is too far to travel back here from Lincolnshire less than a month after you leave.”
“Sophia,” the countess said, “have you been hurt dreadfully by the fact that Papa and I have lived apart for most of your life? It has not been in any way your fault, you know. Papa and I both love you more than we love anyone else in the world. And I cannot call my marriage a mistake, you see, for without it there would not have been you. And I am as sure as I can be that Papa feels the same way. But what are we to do about you and Lord Francis? Do come and sit down again and let us talk about it sensibly.”
“We want to get married in the village church,” Sophia said eagerly, coming to sit beside her mother, “even though it will mean having only family and close friends as guests. I want to get married where you and Papa were married, and Francis says that he wants to get married wherever I happen to be the bride walking down the aisle.” She laughed. “He says the most absurd things. Tell me about getting married there, Mama. Did Papa kiss you at the altar? Did you cry? I was born less than a year later, was I not? I think you must have been very much in love.”
Olivia sighed. “Oh, Sophia,” she said. “Yes, we were. You were a child born of love. You must never doubt that.”
4
L ORD F RANCIS S UTTON , STANDING BESIDE THE bowling green, having completed his own game, drew Sophia’s arm through his. He smiled warmly at her, and strolled a little farther along with her, quite out of hearing of either the bowlers or the small cluster of spectators.
“It must be age that is coming upon me unexpectedly early,” he said, “or some strange malady that has struck me within the past couple of months and is proceeding apace. It must be the country air, perhaps, or the country foods. A strange deafness.
What
did you say?”
“She can be won over,” Sophia said eagerly, her cheeks flushed becomingly. Her look could easily be mistaken for one of complete adoration. “She is uneasy about the match, Francis, but it is merely anxiety for my happiness. She said—or she implied very strongly—that she will not forbid our marrying even if she does advise strongly against it.”
“That part I understood very well,” he said. “You must have been speaking more loudly and distinctly when you said that. It was the next part I misunderstood—or I think I surely must have, anyway.”
“The part about the wedding?” she said. “I told her we were eager to marry
“You love him still, then?” There was a gleam of triumph in Sophia’s eyes. “You have not spent any time with him today, have you? But you are bound to feel strange together at first. You will be more at ease as time goes on.”
“Sophia,” the countess said.
“You are ten times lovelier than she is, anyway,” the girl said.
“She?” Olivia raised her eyebrows.
“Lady Mornington,” Sophia blurted. “You know about her, don’t you? She is Papa’s mistress. But not nearly so lovely as you and he must see it, too, now that you have come home.”
Olivia swallowed. Still Lady Mornington, then? After six years? His liaison had lasted longer than his marriage? He must love the woman, then. A more lasting love than his first had been.
“Sophia,” she said gently, “I am not here to stay. I am here only so that Papa and I can discuss your future with you and each other without the awkwardness of exchanging letters. As soon as everything is settled one way or the other, I shall be going home again. Rushton is my home. This is Papa’s home. But we have strayed a long way from the subject I wished to discuss with you.”
Sophia smiled radiantly at her. “No, we have not,”she said. “When Francis and I are betrothed, you and Papa and I can discuss the wedding. It will be much easier than trying to do it by letter. And since we wish to have the banns read as soon as the betrothal is announced, you might as well stay for the wedding. It is too far to travel back here from Lincolnshire less than a month after you leave.”
“Sophia,” the countess said, “have you been hurt dreadfully by the fact that Papa and I have lived apart for most of your life? It has not been in any way your fault, you know. Papa and I both love you more than we love anyone else in the world. And I cannot call my marriage a mistake, you see, for without it there would not have been you. And I am as sure as I can be that Papa feels the same way. But what are we to do about you and Lord Francis? Do come and sit down again and let us talk about it sensibly.”
“We want to get married in the village church,” Sophia said eagerly, coming to sit beside her mother, “even though it will mean having only family and close friends as guests. I want to get married where you and Papa were married, and Francis says that he wants to get married wherever I happen to be the bride walking down the aisle.” She laughed. “He says the most absurd things. Tell me about getting married there, Mama. Did Papa kiss you at the altar? Did you cry? I was born less than a year later, was I not? I think you must have been very much in love.”
Olivia sighed. “Oh, Sophia,” she said. “Yes, we were. You were a child born of love. You must never doubt that.”
4
L ORD F RANCIS S UTTON , STANDING BESIDE THE bowling green, having completed his own game, drew Sophia’s arm through his. He smiled warmly at her, and strolled a little farther along with her, quite out of hearing of either the bowlers or the small cluster of spectators.
“It must be age that is coming upon me unexpectedly early,” he said, “or some strange malady that has struck me within the past couple of months and is proceeding apace. It must be the country air, perhaps, or the country foods. A strange deafness.
What
did you say?”
“She can be won over,” Sophia said eagerly, her cheeks flushed becomingly. Her look could easily be mistaken for one of complete adoration. “She is uneasy about the match, Francis, but it is merely anxiety for my happiness. She said—or she implied very strongly—that she will not forbid our marrying even if she does advise strongly against it.”
“That part I understood very well,” he said. “You must have been speaking more loudly and distinctly when you said that. It was the next part I misunderstood—or I think I surely must have, anyway.”
“The part about the wedding?” she said. “I told her we were eager to marry
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