Hearts Entwined (Victorian Love Book 3)

by M. A. Nichols

  Sophie wished she were a more charitable creature. Though she did wish Mr. Kingsley happiness and good fortune in his life with Miss Caswell, jealousy pierced her heart; with each step towards that lady, it pricked and poked her, dredging up fantasies best left alone.

  And yet the couple was only courting. That was no small thing, but it wasn’t the same as being engaged or married. However, even as Sophie allowed that thought a place in her mind, she batted it away. She had no wiles to lure a man to her side, and the few times she’d attempted coyness with a gentleman had ended in disaster. Best not.

  Mr. Kingsley greeted the young ladies as he led Sophie close to the trio. Curtsies and bows were given, and Miss Caswell gave him a brilliant smile before coming to his side to take his arm.

  “I am pleased you joined us,” she said.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, and Sophie refused to look at his arm entwined with his lady’s.

  “Had you a pleasant morning?” asked Miss Phyllis Thompson, her eyes moving between Mr. Kingsley and Sophie. For her part, Sophie didn’t mistake the insinuation in the innocent question, and she fought to keep from fidgeting, blushing, or making any other movement that would confirm suspicions.

  “Very pleasant,” replied Mr. Kingsley with an innocent smile that spoke of his ignorance concerning Miss Thompson’s undertone. “I stumbled upon Miss Banfield exploring the fields, and she was kind enough to teach me about the local moths.”

  “Moths?” said Miss Thompson with a sour curl of her lips while Miss Caswell’s dark brows rose. Like the proper society lady she was, Miss Hettie Nelson gave no sign of any emotion other than the slight hint of boredom all posh people were wont to affect.

  “That is a unique subject,” said Miss Caswell. “Might I ask what prompted it?”

  And before Sophie could avoid that line of questioning, Mr. Kingsley replied, “She is an avid naturalist and has a vast knowledge of insects, wildflowers, animals, and the like.”

  “I cannot imagine why anyone would find that worth studying,” replied Miss Thompson, her dark brows furrowing.

  “Nonsense,” replied Miss Caswell. “I cannot claim a great love of nature, but it can be fascinating. Remember when we visited that menagerie three years ago?”

  “I believe it was four,” said Miss Nelson.

  Miss Caswell gave her friend a winning smile. “Quite right, but we were all enamored with the animals.”

  Miss Thompson waved an airy hand. “Exotic one, perhaps, but who would be interested in a simple moth? Unless you are a valet or lady’s maid protecting the master or mistress’s clothing, in which case you’d live in fear of them.”

  Sophie held her tongue, for she knew better than to engage in such a fruitless discussion, but then Mr. Kingsley turned to her and prompted her to speak on her behalf, and Sophie found herself unable to remain silent.

  “There is so much variety and beauty in the world around us,” said Sophie, clasping her hands before her. “Moths are commonplace enough at first glance but have countless species and genera, each one unique in its coloring, habits, and abilities. There is nothing simple about them, and the more I study nature, the more I am awed by its complexity even in the most mundane creatures.”

  Miss Thompson stared at her for a long moment while Mr. Kingsley fairly beamed at her.

  “Brava, Miss Sophie,” said Miss Caswell with a smile equally as bright as her beau’s. “I cannot claim to have such passion for nature, but it is clear you have found your calling.”

  At that, Sophie’s hands twisted in her skirts. “That is giving my meager talents too much credit, though I thank you for the compliment. And before you say it is false modesty, Mr. Kingsley, there is nothing false about it. I do love it, but it is a hobby and nothing more. Whenever I read the texts written by the true talents in the field, it is clear I have a shadow of their understanding. I know where I stand, and I quite happy with it.”

  “Good afternoon!” called Miss Lily Kingsley as she scurried to their group with just enough decorum so as not to be called unseemly, but with none of the calm grace of Miss Caswell, Miss Thompson, and Miss Nelson. “I am so pleased that we made it on time. Mama and Papa were moving quite slowly this afternoon, and I feared we would never set out.”

  Miss Caswell pulled free of Mr. Kingsley and embraced the young lady. “Thank goodness you did, for we would’ve missed you terribly.”

  Sophie’s gaze darted to Miss Thompson and Miss Nelson; the latter’s expressionless mask slipped just enough to show a flash of annoyance in her gaze while the former’s smile tightened into a grimace. For her part, Sophie was no more successful, for a scowl pinched her features as she watched at the horrid pair. But all three had their facades back in place in a flash, giving Miss Caswell and the Kingsley siblings no inkling as to their true feelings.

  Releasing Lily, Miss Caswell took her place beside Mr. Kingsley once more. “We were just speaking with Miss Sophie about her love of naturalism. She was expounding quite beautifully about the intricacies to be found in nature.”

  An arm came around Sophie’s waist, and Allen burst into the conversation with a laugh. “Don’t say that she was boring you to tears with scientific names and endless diatribes on plants and the like.”

  Holding onto her smile, Sophie fought to keep her cheeks from pinking while her brother gave her a gentle shake and guffaw.

  Chapter 12

  “You would speak of your sister so flippantly, sir?” asked Mr. Kingsley, but he paused in whatever he was about to say when the young lady at his side squeezed his arm.

  “Your sister was anything but boring, Mr. Banfield,” said Miss Caswell with a challenging raise of her brow. “You should give her more credit.”

  “You do speak your mind forcefully,” replied Allen, with a smirk twisting his lips. “But as someone who has spent a good many years listening to our Sophie prattle on about such nonsense, I give her all the credit she has earned.”

  “Perhaps your opinion speaks more to your intellect than hers, sir.” Miss Caswell’s tone was all honey and sweetness, a teasing smile on her lips to mute their sting. The chastisement was masterfully delivered, and Allen answered it with a booming laugh.

  “A hit, dear lady, and I concede my defeat,” he said, releasing Sophie to give Miss Caswell a bow.

  Giving a responding smile, as she knew she ought to, Sophie joined in with the others as they laughed and joked about the exchange. One must always enjoy a good laugh at one’s own expense, and Sophie didn’t hold too high an opinion of herself to do so, but it was difficult to maintain her affable smile while her brother’s words echoed in her mind. Miss Caswell had put him artfully in his place, but still, Allen expressed no remorse over chiding her like an errant child.

  Miss Caswell caught her eyes, giving Sophie an encouraging nod before straightening her shoulders, the action silently prodding Sophie to follow suit. And while thoughts of Allen fled, a new sadness settled into her heart like a stone: Sophie hadn’t wanted to like Miss Caswell. Of course, she wished for Mr. Kingsley to marry someone worthy of him, but it was so much easier to picture his bride-to-be as the embodiment of evil.

  Turning to his companion, Mr. Kingsley asked, “Might you join me for a turn about the grounds before luncheon?”

  Miss Caswell gave him another bright smile, and the pair turned away, but not before she gave one parting piece of advice. “As a resolute bachelor, Mr. Banfield, you ought to be more circumspect in your treatment of your female relations. They are the ones who will care for you in your dotage, and only a fool would antagonize them.”

  Allen gave another hearty laugh at that, wrapping his arm around Sophie’s waist again and jostling her. “Silly Little Sophie understands I was jesting.”

  “At my expense,” murmured Sophie, but her brother did not acknowledge it, merely continuing to guffaw at Miss Caswell’s wit.

  Mr. Kingsley and Miss Caswell left the group and meandered arm-in-arm along the edge of the
picnic, their heads close together, and Sophie wished she could follow them.

  “That is quite a fetching gown, Miss Nelson,” said Allen, still hanging on Sophie while managing to lean towards the young lady with the sort of smile that called to women; it steeped in admiration with a hint of something forbidden to lure them into dangerous waters.

  Miss Nelson ceased breathing for the barest of moments, her gaze held in his like prey before a predator. Then a spark of annoyance flashed in her eyes, and though her calm demeanor did not falter, a hint of a scowl pulled at her lips.

  “Thank you, Mr. Banfield,” she said in frigid tones.

  “It is fetching,” added Lily, and Sophie couldn’t say if the young lady was ignorant of the conversational undertones or trying to dispel them. “I adore tiered skirts, but I fear they do not compliment my figure as they do yours.”

  But Allen ignored the diversion and continued, his voice dipping into such sultry tones that Sophie fought not to groan at the audacity of it. “Perhaps you might do me the honor of showing me around your grounds.”

  Miss Nelson huffed. “You are wasting your time on me, Mr. Banfield. I have little time for rogues.”

  Taking Miss Thompson by the arm, the pair took their leave—not scurrying but moving with determined haste.

  Then Lily said, “I am not as knowledgeable about Hardington Halls’ grounds as Miss Nelson, but I am quite familiar with them and can show you around, should you wish.”

  Allen’s gaze turned to her, taking in the plain and plump lady in an instant. “My thanks, but no. I am needed elsewhere.”

  Giving a curt bow, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered to where the young men had gathered, leaving the young ladies alone. Lily watched Allen’s departure, her expression stoic though her eyes could not hide their disappointment.

  “My brother is not worth pursuing,” said Sophie. “He has many admirable qualities, but he is a flirt of the worst sort and excessively frivolous.”

  Lily gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I know precisely what he is, and I have no interest in him.”

  Sophie’s brows furrowed as she played through that quick moment between them. She didn’t think she had misread the interest in Lily’s question. The lady hadn’t been entirely subtle about it.

  A rosy pink filled Lily’s cheeks, and her shoulders stiffened as she clasped her hands before her. “Perhaps I ought to say I have no true interest in Mr. Allen Banfield. But there are times when I cannot help but attempt some flirtation simply to see if a fellow will reciprocate.” Lily’s gaze fell to the grass. “I know you must think me a fool, but I cannot seem to help myself at times… Just as I cannot seem to hold my tongue.”

  “I do not think you a fool. Far from it,” Sophie replied with a gentle smile. “Firstly, I find your candor refreshing, and I’m surprised by how easy I am with my words around you and your brother. Secondly, what lady does not wish to be found desirable? I cannot fault you for seeking attention from someone so free with his affection as my brother.”

  With a sound that was part huff and part sigh, Lily’s smile grew sad. “And yet he fled like a fox from the hounds.” But Lily shook her head, letting out a low sigh. “I apologize. I do not mean to sound so maudlin—”

  “Nonsense,” said Sophie. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  A small smile crept across her face, and Lily met Sophie’s gaze once more. “You are too kind, Miss Banfield…”

  Though Lily attempted to continue her sentence, her words halted and faded as she verbally stumbled.

  “Is anything the matter?” Sophie watched the other young lady, her concern growing as Lily’s complexion blazed a burning red.

  “I do apologize, but I fear I must be going…” said Lily, turning away from her companion.

  Sophie’s eyes widened. “Have I done something to offend you?”

  Lily paused, her own eyes widening in response. “Of course not. You have been so kind to me—”

  “You are more deserving of such a compliment,” replied Sophie with a self-pitying smile. “I was all alone last night until you approached me in conversation.”

  And formed the beginnings of a friendship—or so Sophie had believed. Clearly not.

  The tightness in Lily’s shoulders eased, but they drooped as though that admission settled a weight on them. Casting a glance around them, Lily drew closer and lowered her voice.

  “I fear Mama does not care for me or my brother associating with your family.” The young lady winced, and she dropped her gaze with a sad shake of her head. “There is some bad blood between our parents, and mine have asked Oliver and me to keep our distance.”

  “Bad blood?” asked Sophie, clasping her hands in front of her.

  “My parents would not explain the whole of it, but I gather it has something to do with your mama being cruel to mine. All I know for certain is your parents were banned from Avebury Park long ago, and my parents are not the sort to take such action lightly. I cannot countenance Mama doing such a thing, though it must be true, for she told me of it herself.”

  Sophie’s hands tightened, her whole body straining as she thought over the charges laid at her parents’ door. “I do wish I knew what led to such drastic measures, but I can well believe my mother could mistreat yours. Though she is generally a peaceable lady, Mama has a nasty streak at times, and she has little empathy for those who do not share her way of thinking.”

  It was not pleasant to admit such a thing, but that did not make it any less true. Mama, Allen, and the rest of her family had admirable traits and aspects Sophie adored; they were all so carefree and confident in a manner she could never embrace. But she wasn’t ignorant of other insidious aspects to their personalities. There were times when she could hardly stand to be associated with them, so she could not blame an outsider for feeling the same.

  Though Sophie had never expected others to see her in the same light.

  “I am so sorry,” said Lily, casting a glance over Sophie’s shoulder. Though Sophie did not turn to see who it was she was watching, she could hazard a guess since Lily stiffened, her expression pulling into such despair that Sophie’s own heart ached for her. “I told Mama you are not like that, but…”

  Lily’s hands fluttered as she attempted to find a way to finish the sentence, but Sophie knew there was no decorous manner in which to do so. It reflected poorly on all parties involved.

  “Do not trouble yourself,” said Sophie, feigning a smile while her heart sunk low in her chest. “I understand and do not hold any malice towards you or yours for it. You needn’t stay here when it will cause such distress to your family.”

  Sophie felt like hugging the poor girl, for though Lily nodded and moved away, there was such pain in her expression. Apparently, Mrs. Kingsley had not taught her the importance of masking your heart, for Lily’s was written on her face in the furrowing of her brow and dimming light of her eyes.

  And then Sophie was left alone with her thoughts.

  Chapter 13

  A rift between the Kingsleys and Banfields? Sophie was not aware of her parents ever having mentioned the Kingsleys before, so she could not fathom what the cause might be. Though not well acquainted with the family, Sophie sensed a sweetness of temper—though she would never tell Mr. Oliver Kingsley that, as gentlemen rarely found such a description desirable. But Lily and her brother had spoken more kind words to Sophie than she could ever remember her own family saying, to her or anyone. Where Allen mocked and her parents bemoaned her odd pastime, the Kingsleys had praised and admired it.

  As much as it pained her to admit it, Sophie fully expected her family was the source of the conflict.

  Had this rift been the reason behind Mr. Kingsley’s disappearance five years ago? It was no great leap of logic to believe it to be true when Lily was forbidden from even engaging with Sophie in an innocent discussion. The senior Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley were determined to maintain the distance between their brood and the Banfie
lds’ and had likely been displeased to discover their son was set to squire Miss Sophie Banfield about London.

  She ought to be offended, and part of her heart railed against the injustice of it all, yet as Sophie’s gaze traveled among the guests, she watched Allen rouse the young gentlemen into antics that were too juvenile for schoolboys but the perfect diversion for bored gentlemen. Meanwhile, Father stood closer than was seemly to Mrs. Nelson; the others might not acknowledge the lingering touches on her arm, but Sophie had seen her father seduce many a woman to misread the situation. He’d attempted it with Mrs. Caswell, likely more for the challenge than desire, but she’d proved fruitless, and he’d quickly shifted focus to more bountiful hunting grounds.

  And Mama. If not for Allen’s presence, she would likely be planted among the younger set, but contented herself with bestowing inviting glances at the footmen whenever the others weren’t watching.

  But for all her internal sermonizing and condemnation, it was Sophie who stood alone. Cast out and ignored. Yes, Sophie envied her family’s ease with people, their joie de vivre that allowed them to find a place among any set of people, and she longed for a particle of their ability. Stepping towards the nearest blanket, Sophie claimed a corner and watched as the others mingled around her.

  *

  Leaning into Oliver, Miss Caswell wrapped her arms around one of his as the pair strolled around the edge of the picnic.

  “And why did you wish to lure me away from the others?” she asked with a wicked spark in her eye.

  Oliver replied with a single arched brow. “Need I have an excuse to lure you away? We’ve hardly had a moment to speak since you arrived.”

  Miss Caswell bumped against his shoulder. “We have an entire month in which to steal moments like this one. If I might be so bold, I’ve missed you.”

  “We saw each other in London not long ago,” he replied with a chuckle.

  “Yes, but it’s felt like an eternity, Mr. Kingsley.”