SOPHIE DRESSED WITH CARE THAT evening for the Millers’ dinner party. She wore a light blue gown of silk with several rosettes clustered on the V-shaped bodice. The neckline of the dress fell just below her shoulders and emphasized her graceful neck; she touched the bare skin and wished she had a necklace to wear. Then Sophie laughed out loud at the absurdity of the thought: Not two months ago, she had only two work dresses, and now she was pining over jewels!
I am completely ridiculous, she thought, tugging on long white gloves that reached her elbows. Then she pulled on her dancing slippers, which had been dyed a matching shade of blue—the color of the sky at the lightest part of the day.
Hearing a knock at the door, Sophie looked around the room before remembering that Mariah had not yet returned.
“Come in,” Sophie called.
Adell entered with a quick bob. “Excuse me, miss. This has come for you.”
The maid handed her a posy of little forget-me-nots. Sophie inhaled their sweet scent before placing them on the table beside her and opened the card:
Sophie,
My dear friend and future business partner, I would be honored if you wore my flowers tonight. They are but a small token of my great admiration and esteem.
Yours,
Ethan
Forget-me-nots.
She tried to not be too pleased or to smile, but she couldn’t help herself.
Adell smiled, too. “I could arrange them in your hair, if you’d like,” she offered.
“Please, I would like that very much.”
Sophie sat back in her chair and enjoyed the light movements of Adell’s fingers as she deftly wove the small five-petaled flowers into her hair. When Adell finished, Sophie looked at her reflection in the mirror and thanked her. She had never felt beautiful before, but in this moment, she defied even Adaline in all her dimpled perfection to eclipse her.
The carriage ride to the Millers’ felt constrained. Charles didn’t speak once, nor did he give Sophie even a glance. He hadn’t looked at her since she came down the stairs with Ethan’s flowers in her hair. While Sophie didn’t like him particularly, she couldn’t help but be offended by his inability to behave civilly. She would never understand what Mariah saw in him. During the carriage ride, Aunt Bentley muttered only a few sentences, which required no response:
“I hope that the rest of the party is genteel. Mrs. Miller can be so democratic in her invitations, with no regard to rank.” And: “I wonder if Mrs. Miller’s talked to her butler yet about hurrying the courses along at dinner. Last time we dined there, it took nearly two hours.”
When they arrived, Mrs. Miller welcomed them warmly. She wore a deep blue dress with the most exquisite lace overlay that Sophie had ever seen. Ethan looked decidedly handsome in a black suit as he bent over Sophie’s hand to greet her.
“I’m honored that you wore my flowers, Miss Carter,” he said formally, though there was a twinkle in his eye.
“Will I know anyone else at the party?” Sophie asked.
“The Penderton-Simpsons you already know,” Ethan said. “But I believe the rest of the party is entirely unknown to you. Come, I’ll introduce you.”
Ethan led her from the front entry to the sitting room, where she saw Adaline and her parents talking with the Penroses. Four couples were already seated, along with Mr. Eustace Miller. Sophie had not met any of them before, but she knew instantly who they were.
“Your sisters?” she whispered, only loud enough for Ethan to hear.
“They’ve been eager to meet you. Please don’t believe everything that they might say. In fact … please don’t believe anything they say.”
Ethan’s sisters and their husbands stood. The family resemblance was marked. Each of the ladies had their mother’s blond hair and blue eyes.
“Miss Carter,” Ethan said formally, “may I introduce my sister Louisa and her husband, Lord and Lady de Clifford.”
Sophie bowed to a very tall, angular man with grayish hair and his much shorter and plumper wife. Lord de Clifford gave a sharp bow, and Lady de Clifford reached out to Sophie. She allowed Lady de Clifford to take her hands and give them a quick squeeze. Her blue eyes were lighter and larger than her brother’s, and she smiled broadly.
“I have been very eager to meet you, Miss Carter,” Lady de Clifford said in a cultivated, pleasant voice. “There’s so much I wish to tell you about my brother.”
“Later, Louisa, later,” Ethan said, and steered Sophie to the next couple. “Miss Carter, may I present my sister Anne and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright.”
Anne was as thin as her sister Louisa was plump. Her thinness was exaggerated by a plain black dress, worn off the shoulders with long black gloves. Her blond hair was simply styled in single braids on each side of her head, which became a bun at the back of her neck. She gave a small smile and an even smaller curtsy. Her husband was also wearing only black and merely nodded his head.
“A pleasure,” Sophie said, bobbing a curtsy and trying not to feel overwhelmed.
Ethan led her to the next couple.
“And next, my sister Mary and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. Lennox, may I present Miss Carter.”
Mary was slight in frame like Anne, but quite a bit taller. She was also well-endowed, which her dress of peach muslin with blue ribbons amply displayed. Mr. Lennox was a good half a head shorter than his wife and twice as broad, with a large belly that his tailoring could not hide. He had a round, red face and an easy smile of good humor. Mary’s smile was equally jolly, causing wrinkles around her dark blue eyes.
“And finally, my sister Rebecca and her husband, Lord and Lady Gordon.”
Rebecca was shorter than Sophie and looked to be younger than Ethan. She was clearly the beauty of the family, with a perfectly oval face; smooth, porcelain-like skin; and a beautiful smile of straight, pearly teeth. Her hair was dressed in a profusion of ringlets, braids, and gardenia flowers. Her violet silk dress caught the light, and the antique lace at her throat and sleeves probably cost more than all the clothes Aunt Bentley had purchased for Sophie. Rebecca wore long white gloves that reached her elbows and hung on her husband’s arm in such a way that made Sophie think that they must be recently married.
“At last,” Rebecca said. “I’ve been begging to meet you for a fortnight at least.”
Sophie unconsciously stepped closer to Ethan and managed to say, “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”
Rebecca released her hold on her husband’s arm and took Sophie’s. “Ethan, why don’t you entertain Charles, and Miss Carter can sit with me?”
Ethan bowed slightly to Sophie before walking across the room to Charles, whose expression was particularly dour. Aunt Bentley sat near Mrs. Miller and Mr. Eustace Miller. Rebecca led her to a settee, and they sat next to each other.
“Now, let me get a good look at you,” Rebecca said. “Very beautiful. I can see why Ethan is smitten. Are those his flowers in your hair?”
Sophie felt her color rise, but she was saved from answering by Adaline sitting down on her other side.
“What has Rebecca said to embarrass you?” Adaline teased.
“Nothing,” Sophie said, but she felt as if the world had somehow tilted. Ethan’s family seemed to assume too much about her and him—about them.
“The night is young,” Adaline said. “I daresay she’ll manage to embarrass you and Mr. Miller before the dinner is over.”
“I’ll do no such thing!” Rebecca protested.
“It seems very brave of him to have you meet all of his family before an engagement is announced to the papers and you cannot change your mind,” Adaline said, winking at Rebecca.
If Sophie were the fainting type, which she thankfully wasn’t, she would have fallen to the floor at Adaline’s bold announcement. Engagement?! It was much too soon to be using that sort of word.
“He made us all promise to behave ourselves,” Rebecca said.
Adaline laughed. “Sophie, I know that it’s quite without manners to ask, but is everything settled between the two of you?”
“Adaline, such an indelicate question!” Rebecca said, but she still leaned forward eagerly to hear Sophie’s answer.
“Like you’re not dying to know yourself,” Adaline said, shrugging her perfect shoulders. “I’ve had several people ask me, and I would hate to be the last person in London society to know.”
Sophie didn’t know what to say. Had her behavior given cause for such talk? Marriage. She literally felt sick to her stomach. At last, she found her voice. “Nothing is … We are … Lady Gordon, do you care for Pre-Raphaelite paintings, by chance?”
Rebecca raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows at her friend. “I’m very fond of art. Are you, Adaline?”
Adaline gave a resigned sigh. “I suppose I’m not un-fond of it.”
The butler announced dinner and Sophie was relieved to find Ethan at her side. Adaline took her usual place by Charles, who steadily refused to look at Sophie. Ethan escorted Sophie into an enormous dining room with two large crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He assisted her to a seat on his left and Lord Gordon sat on her other side. The footmen began to deliver the dishes, which superseded all conversation for a few moments.
Sophie was glad to have a chance to catch her breath and tidy the thoughts in her mind. Adaline seemed to think that all of London society was expecting a wedding announcement any day now. Clearly Ethan’s sisters thought they were already engaged, or at least soon to be.
Horrified and embarrassed, Sophie wished that Mariah had come to dinner instead. She stole a glance at Charles, who gave her a withering look in return and then focused his attention on his plate. She wondered what Mariah had said or done to make him feel hostile toward her just when he was starting to behave almost human.
She turned her head to Ethan, who met her gaze with a smile. Her stomach began to turn in the pleasantly unpleasant way that it always did when he was near. But that feeling was overshadowed by the nausea brought on by his family’s expectations.
“My sisters weren’t invited tonight,” Ethan said quietly.
“And yet they’re all here.”
Ethan shook his head bemusedly. “Yes. My mother told Mary, who told Louisa, who told Anne, who told Rebecca. They were all most eager to meet you.”
“Rebecca seems very … loquacious.”
“A busybody,” Ethan said.
Sophie tried to smile but she felt the eyes of the entire party on her—on them.
Mrs. Miller diverted the attention. “Charles, how soon will you be departing back to New York?”
“Nine days,” he said, with a slight questioning glance at Sophie.
“So soon,” Mrs. Miller said. “Are you quite recovered?”
“It’s good for a man to be at his business,” Mr. Eustace Miller said gruffly.
Charles flushed. “I’m much better, Aunt Miller, and eager to prove myself equal to the task.”
“And so you will,” Ethan said. “Charles has a great head for business, doesn’t he, grandfather?”
“Sound,” Mr. Eustace Miller said. “Very sound head.”
“I hope you’ve all received your invitations to my ball next week,” Aunt Bentley said. “It will be in honor of my dear Charles’s departure.”
“We’ll certainly be there,” Rebecca said with a knowing look at Sophie and Ethan. “It’s going to be quite the family affair, after all.”
Sophie stood up suddenly. Her napkin fell to the floor, but she didn’t bother to pick it up. She walked quickly out of the dining room, covering her mouth with her hands; she felt as if she were about to be sick.
In the hall, she spotted a Grecian urn on the side table. She grabbed it with both hands and brought it to her mouth in time to catch the contents of her stomach.
“Sophie, are you all right?”
Reluctantly she turned to see Ethan standing behind her in the hall. He looked so handsome in the candlelight, even with an expression of concern shadowing his face. She glanced down at the priceless historical artifact she’d just befouled.
“I need some air.”
“Let’s walk outside to the garden,” Ethan suggested. He gently took the urn from her fingers and set it back on the table.
As he began to lead her away, she glanced over her shoulder at the urn. “I was … I was sick in that.”
“I noticed,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Isn’t that what bowls are for?” Ethan said. “You don’t need to worry about it. It’s not an heirloom.”
He opened a door that led out to a dark garden. The light from the house’s windows wasn’t enough to illuminate it. Instead, the dim light cast shadows on all the trees and bushes, giving them a sinister look.
Sophie stripped off her gloves and touched her hot cheeks with her hands. Breathing in and out. She hadn’t felt this out of control in years. Mrs. Ellis had successfully beat most emotion out of her.
“Please tell me what Rebecca said to upset you before dinner,” Ethan asked tentatively from behind her. “I’m sure this is only a misunderstanding that I can explain.”
She stood silent for a few moments, trying to put her words in order like she would put together the gears of a clock. “Rebecca was not unkind.”
“Something has upset you,” he said, touching her shoulder.
Sophie stepped forward, breaking their contact. If he touched her, her tenuous resolve would be lost. “They all seem to assume that everything is settled between us.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“Yes!” Sophie exclaimed, finally turning to look him in the eye. “You know how I feel about courtships. You know my past. This … this is all much, much too soon for me.”
Ethan reached his hand out to her. “I know the Trentons abandoned you, but that doesn’t mean that I will.”
“How could you possibly understand?” Sophie cried, wringing her hands. “Someone like you with your beautiful house and your beautiful family … You will never understand what it’s like to be thrown away! To be treated like you’re even less than a servant, to not know if you’ll have a roof over your head the next day. To watch your sister be starved and belittled and know there is nothing you can do to help her, nothing you can do to make her life better. You could never understand.”
“I’m trying to…”
Someone must have opened a window at that moment; the sounds of happy chatter floated out into the garden.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be here,” Sophie said, feeling nauseous again.
“Please stay. I’m sure we can resolve this together—”
“There’s nothing to resolve. I don’t belong here … with you. Please call me a carriage. Every moment here pains me.”
Ethan nodded slowly. “Of course … if you wish it.”
“Thank you.”
He left the garden and Sophie was finally alone. For the second time in a week, tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was all her fault. She should have kept Ethan at a proper distance from herself, from her heart. She knew better. Reaching into her pocket, she felt for her pocket watch and ran her fingers over the engraving on the front until she felt calm again.
The door to the house opened; Ethan stood holding it for her. Sophie sniffed and walked through it.
“The carriage is ready, and I’ve brought you another bowl—just in case,” he said with a ghost of a smile.
He was trying to cheer her up, but Sophie could not return the smile. Her chin quivered as he led her to the front door on the opposite side of the house.
“May I accompany you home?”
“No, thank you,” she said.
He winced. “I don’t need your thanks.”
“I have nothing else to give.”
“This is goodbye for a little while then,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m leaving tomorrow for Birmingham and I’ll be there for several weeks. I’ve put off this business too long. Perhaps I can call on you when I return?”
Sophie looked down at the bowl in her hands. She didn’t know what to say. She had no idea where she would be living in a few weeks.
Ethan opened the carriage door for her and then offered his hand to assist her in, but she didn’t take it, electing to clamber in on her own. She knew she ought to say something, but no words would come. He stood waiting for her response for several moments before he closed the door to the carriage and said to the coachman, “Drive on.”
As the carriage jerked forward, Sophie ran her fingers through her hair and felt the forget-me-not flowers. She plucked them from her tresses and watched them wilt in her hands.
At last, the carriage arrived at Hyde Street. Mr. Taylor let Sophie in, his expression more curious than condescending. She brushed past him without a word and went straight upstairs to her room.
“Sophie?” Mariah said in surprise, sitting up against the pillows. When she saw the look on her twin’s face, she dropped the book she’d been reading and scrambled out of bed.
Sophie fell into the arms of her sister, the only person she trusted, and cried and cried.