“Loudor made it rather clear this evening that he didn’t want to be bothered by his cousin’s suitors, but I imagine I can find a way around that. I suppose I’ll have to pay her some attention. If Loudor proves tight-lipped, she may be of some use to us.”
“How noble of you,” Whit drawled. “The chit’s a beauty, Alex. Quite stunning, really. If you’d rather, I might be agreeable—”
“You’ll keep a respectable distance,” Alex snapped. “She’s my concern.”
In the face of Whit’s knowing smirk, Alex was forced to admit he’d been concerning himself over Miss Everton a great deal that night. “Bloody hell. Just stick to orders, Whit. Keep your eye on Loudor’s friends, Calmaton and Forent. Loudor, too, when you can. And if your mother gets wind of this, it’s on your head.”
Four
Sophie rose the next morning feeling stiff and sore, but otherwise much her usual self. Once during the night, she had awoken long enough to read the contents of the envelope Mr. Smith had given her. It contained a list of gentlemen she was to “keep her eye trained upon,” as well as the name of the solicitor who would serve as her contact and provide her with any needed funds.
After memorizing the names, she had burned the papers in the fireplace and gone back to bed. Personal experience had taught her that rest was the best medicine for a blow to the head. Or so Mrs. Summers was in the habit of insisting. Having taken a considerably stout blow, she would now have to spend the remainder of the day resting. Sophie heaved a disappointed sigh. Resting was dull under normal circumstances—on her first full day back in England, it was going to be positively torturous. She wondered if she could manage to sneak outside. She wouldn’t go far, of course, and it’d only be for a bit.
Mentally planning her escape, she pulled the bell cord and went to the window to wait for a response. It had been too dark last night to see much beyond shadows. In the light of day, Sophie saw that her bedroom afforded a view of a small but well-kept garden complete with a gravel walking path, several benches, and a garish, oversized fountain she guessed to be a new addition.
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of a plump girl with a head of brilliant red hair neatly tucked up in a chignon. With her freckles, bright blue eyes, and an endearing smile, the girl looked as though she belonged on a three-legged stool in front of a cow. Not that Sophie had ever seen a dairymaid before, mind you, she was just certain the girl fit the bill.
“Morning, miss. I hope you’re feeling better, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Of course not, ah…”
“Penny, miss.”
Penny. It suited. “Thank you, Penny, I am much recovered. If it’s not too much bother, could I have a bath made ready and some food brought up? I seem to have overslept and missed breakfast.”
“No bother at all, but you haven’t missed breakfast. It’s only eleven, and breakfast is served at quarter to twelve.”
“So late?”
“We keep town hours here, miss.”
“Oh, right, of course.” She had no idea what the girl was talking about, but she smiled anyway, and made a mental note to quiz Mrs. Summers later on the peculiar eating habits of Londoners. Mrs. Summers had spent an inordinate amount of time tutoring Sophie on the ways of the ton, but obviously she had overlooked a few things.
“That footman of yours, he left a note for you, miss.”
“Footman?”
“That Chinese man, Mr. Wang.”
“Oh, he’s not a footman, Penny. He’s more of a friend…family really.”
Sophie opened the letter, already knowing its contents. Mr. Wang had left to visit friends in Wales after seeing Mrs. Summers and herself comfortably settled. He would see her again in a few months.
“I really wish I could have said good-bye in person,” she sighed.
“Nothing for it, miss. Mr. Wang wouldn’t let us wake you, said you needed to rest after your accident.”
Sophie snorted to herself. Mr. Wang hadn’t been concerned for her health. He wouldn’t have left if there were any question of her quick recovery. What he had no doubt wanted was to avoid a scene like the one that occurred the last time he left for an extended holiday. Sophie had cried so hard she had cast up her accounts on his trunk and Mr. Wang had been obliged to postpone his visit until he could calm Sophie down. And repack.
“I was thirteen,” Sophie grumbled. “One would think he’d have forgiven me by now.”
“Beg your pardon, miss?”
“Nothing, Penny.”
Sophie gave herself one more minute to mourn the temporary loss of her friend before dressing and setting out to find Mrs. Summers and breakfast.
She found the former already at the latter. She asked for scones, sat down across from her companion, and poured a cup of tea. “Will Lord Loudor be joining us this morning?”
“No.” Mrs. Summers replied. “I believe his lordship had a rather late night and is not feeling quite the thing this morning.”
“Oh, I do hope it’s nothing serious.”