For The Lady 0f Lowena (A Cornish Romance Book 2)

by Deborah M. Hathaway

  “But not many, I gather.”

  “We have more than enough servants to suit our needs, I assure you.”

  Of course, that wasn’t exactly true. But why should Sophia have to admit how often she rang out her new bell, only to receive no response from either Edith or Mrs. Cuff? The number of servants the Rosewalls kept was none of Miss Ward’s concern.

  Sophia tapped her slipper against the smooth, wooden floor. Miss Ward was irritating her already. Did Sophia really wish to ask if she could temporarily stay with her and her family?

  If the choice was between staying with them or Lowena Cottage, Sophia already knew her answer.

  She began again. “At any rate, I happened to mention that we struggle for space at Lowena to Mrs. Maddern, and she graciously extended the offer for me to remain here with her. At least until my family is back on their feet.”

  Miss Ward’s eyes widened. “She did?”

  “Indeed. I was nearly ready to accept, but I’m afraid Miss Kinsey does not wish to share her aunt’s attention with anyone but herself.”

  Miss Ward gasped, whispering, “She said such a thing?”

  Sophia simply raised her shoulders. She’d have to remember to say an extra prayer for repentance come this Sunday.

  “I can’t believe it,” Miss Ward breathed.

  “I couldn’t either. But I can hardly stay where I am unwelcome, as much as I appreciated the offer. Now I shall have to remain at the cottage. Unless, of course, I can find somewhere else to stay…”

  Sophia knew her hinting was obvious, but Miss Ward had always proved simple, so heavily hint she must.

  Miss Ward rubbed her gloved forearm. “Oh, Miss Rosewall, I—”

  “Ah, Miss Ward!” Another voice interrupted. “You have returned to us at last. I thought you might remain in London forever.”

  Sophia bit her cheek, forcing back a frustrated sigh as Mr. Chester joined them. Was it just her, or did he appear taller than usual?

  “Good evening, Mr. Chester,” she greeted, bestowing the man with her best smile in order to keep herself from eying his feet.

  Mr. Chester turned toward her. “Miss Rosewall? I did not expect to see you this evening.”

  Sophia thought perhaps the man was jesting, but when he toyed uncomfortably with the sleeves of his jacket, she paused. “Why would I not be here?”

  He and Miss Ward exchanged a glance. “Because of your removal from Fynwary Hall, of course,” he replied. “One would think you would be overcome with exhaustion after such an ordeal.”

  Sophia tapped his arm playfully with her fan. “Mr. Chester, I would have thought you knew me well enough to know that I would never miss an opportunity to dance, no matter how exhausted I may be.”

  He bared his teeth in what she assumed was an attempt at a grin. “Yes, of course.”

  A deafening silence arose between the three of them, even with the hum of the other guests around them. Sophia couldn’t understand their behavior. But why was she dwelling on their awkwardness when her time could better be spent in laughter and enjoyment?

  Sophia faced Mr. Chester more fully. “I—”

  “Tell me, how have you been, Mr. Chester?” Miss Ward didn’t seem aware that she’d cut off Sophia’s words with her question.

  Sophia pursed her lips with disapproval, but they continued their conversation, taking no notice of her.

  “Well enough,” he replied. “Better now that you are here with us.”

  Miss Ward modestly tucked in her chin.

  Sophia narrowed her eyes as she watched their interaction. Had they formed an attachment when all of them were in London together last month? Sophia hadn’t taken notice before.

  “I must say, I have greatly missed being your dance partner, Miss Ward,” Mr. Chester continued. “Do tell me you are not occupied for the first. If so, I should dearly love the pleasure.”

  Sophia’s eyebrows drew together. He’d practically fought Mr. Singleton to obtain the first dance with Sophia. Had he already forgotten? “But, Mr. Chester, I thought that—”

  “The pleasure would certainly be mine,” Miss Ward interrupted again. She took his outstretched arm then finally turned to Sophia. “Do excuse us, Miss Rosewall.”

  Sophia watched them walk away, her mouth hung open. When she noticed a stern look from an elderly couple, she snapped her lips closed and gave them a pleasant nod.

  The moment their disapproving eyes departed, her frown returned. Mr. Chester had been flirting with her, showing express interest in her, during the Rosewall’s dinner party. Had his affection shifted from Sophia to Miss Ward in a single evening?

  It is all a game.

  Sophia shook Mr. Hawkins’s words from her mind. If Mr. Chester truly forgot the dances she had promised him, then he really must be in love with Miss Ward. His flirting with Sophia would have been a simple lapse in judgment.

  With a potential engagement on the horizon, Sophia hardly wished to stand in their way. Besides, there were plenty of other gentlemen here who would be happy to show Sophia the attention she deserved. Of course, Mr. Hawkins would not be one of them.

  She clicked her tongue at herself. How had her mind reverted to him, and her eyes to the spot where he had previously stood? He wasn’t there now, nor was Miss Kinsey.

  Her eyes swept across the crowd until falling on raven black hair hovering near the refreshment table.

  Mr. Singleton. He would make a fine partner.

  Like a hound to a rabbit—no, not one of Mr. Hawkins’s hounds—she weaved in and out of the couples with dexterity. When she finally reached him, she tapped his shoulder with her forefinger. “Good evening, Mr. Singleton. I have wonderful news for you.”

  Mr. Singleton whirled around, his brow jumping in surprise. “Miss Rosewall?”

  Sophia’s patience thinned. Why was everyone so surprised to see her? Did they truly think her so weak that she would become indisposed by simply moving to a different house? Or were they surprised for different reasons, because her circumstances had changed, and they now thought her unworthy to…

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment to shut out the thought. She wouldn’t allow her mind to stray to such a place. She was still the same person as she was before, only temporarily poorer.

  Raising her chin, she continued. “Did you hear me before, sir? I said I had wonderful news.”

  His eyes flicked over her shoulder. “Oh?”

  Where was that accompanying smile of his that he had whenever he was with her?

  “Mr. Chester has made himself occupied for the first set, so you and I may dance together now.”

  His eyes darted about the room. Why did he appear so skittish, as if he were hiding from something, or from someone?

  “Forgive me, Miss Rosewall, but I already have a partner for this dance. Miss Ward has agreed to dance with me, you see.”

  Sophia cocked her head. “Miss Ward? But she has just promised herself to Mr. Chester.”

  Mr. Singleton averted his eyes. “Did I say Miss Ward? I must have seen her passing by. No, I meant Miss…Miss Roberts.”

  Sophia followed his line of sight to see the young Miss Roberts standing next to her mother. “Oh, well, I trust you will enjoy her company.”

  Mr. Singleton gave a stiff bow and walked away without so much as a glance in her direction. She watched him depart, attempting to swallow the dryness that suddenly coated her throat. It had to be a coincidence that both he and Mr. Chester were occupied for the first dance. Hadn’t it?

  “Are you in line, miss?”

  Sophia nearly jumped at the sound of a gentleman behind her. She looked to see a line forming near the refreshment table, a line she was holding up.

  “Oh, forgive me,” she muttered, stepping aside.

  She was flustered, a feeling she was not accustomed to, a feeling caused by others’ inattentiveness.

  She could still blossom, she could still attract a partner, like a bee to a flower. She simply needed to show just how
sweet of a flower she was.

  Moving to the center of the room again, she straightened her back until it ached and placed a pleasant expression on her face.

  No gentleman approached. Perhaps the room was too crowded for her to be seen?

  She made her way to an open doorway that led to the gardens. Cool air sailed into the warm room. From there she could see a number of gentlemen standing and speaking with other guests. Did they all have partners? Had they seen that she was in need of one?

  She tried not to become too discouraged. After all, it was only the first dance of the evening, and if she did not have a partner, it was not the worst thing that could happen. Then again, she had never attended a ball where she was not occupied for every single set. In truth, if she sat out, she was not quite sure what to do with herself.

  A strange panic flapped in her chest, suppressing her desire to be seen. What if people noticed she was alone and judged her for it? More importantly, what was so terribly wrong with her to have no one wish to dance with her?

  She backed up closer to the open door, crossing an arm over her stomach. What was this feeling, insecurity? It was foreign. Unwelcome. She knew not how to be rid it.

  “But Miss Rosewall would have been surprised, too. How could she not have been?”

  Sophia’s ears perked up. She raised her head toward the open door. The wind rustled the curls on her brow, bringing Mr. Chester’s distinctly high-pitched voice past her ear.

  A second voice spoke. “Oh, indeed. My family and I were, as well, when we heard the news.”

  Miss Ward. Her conspiratorial tone could not be mistaken.

  Sophia held her breath to better hear their hushed words.

  “You know,” Mr. Chester said, “I believe it occurred the very night of the dinner party that I attended at Fynwary Hall.”

  Sophia’s heart sagged like a saturated silk bonnet. The ball had been meant to distract her from her troubles. Overhearing such gossip would hardly help. Yet, she could not move away. She leaned in closer, hidden behind the open door, drawn to their conversation like a moth to the flame.

  “Did you notice any sign of what was about to occur?” Miss Ward asked. Her voice was hungry, eager. Like a feral cat eying a beached pilchard.

  “Only Mr. Hawkins’s presence might have given us some suspicion. But he and Mr. Rosewall, and indeed, all of Mr. Rosewall’s investors, kept quiet about his waning funds.”

  “I’m certain even if Mr. Rosewall had told his wife and daughter earlier, they would not have listened to him.”

  “You are right in that regard, Miss Ward.”

  Sophia clutched her fan with both hands.

  “I really do not like to speak ill of her,” Miss Ward continued, “but Miss Rosewall and I have always had a somewhat strained relationship. Honestly, though, she could do with a little humbling.”

  Sophia could just imagine the woman’s annoyingly thin eyebrows raised. Miss Ward could do with a dousing of humility herself.

  “She is far too fixated on herself,” Miss Ward continued. “No wonder she didn’t see her poor father struggling. I’m sure I would have, had my own father been under such strain.”

  Sophia pulled back, the bitter sting of the words striking at her spirit. What a cruel accusation. Sophia loved her father. It was not her fault that he had so aptly hidden his secret.

  Images flashed through her mind. Father’s weary eyes, his strained look when she’d first mentioned purchasing a new ballgown, his constant finger to his temple as if to quell an unending headache.

  The memories continued, and a tension settled around her ribs, as if her stays had tightened on their own.

  “I really do commend her for coming this evening, though,” Miss Ward said. “I would not have had her same confidence had my family lost everything. I’m sure I would never appear in Society again.”

  “Yes, but does she even realize her circumstances have changed?” Mr. Chester asked.

  He no doubt stood on the tips of his toes to appear taller than Miss Ward, though Sophia knew it would do him little good.

  “Well, she is certain to know after this evening, I’m afraid.” Miss Ward sighed. “A pretty dress may do wonders for a fatigued appearance, but with no dowry, she will hardly have men flocking after her as her pride is accustomed to.”

  Sophia’s frown grew. Fatigued appearance? Pride?

  “Indeed. I will still dance with her myself, as I am a gentleman, but I will not be surprised should others choose not to do so. Mr. Singleton, for one.”

  Miss Ward hummed in agreement. “Though, according to Miss Rosewall, she believes she will rise above her circumstances yet.”

  “She must be in denial. From what I understand, her father has lost everything. Even if he were to find work—though, who would hire him, I know not—his wages would be so lacking, they would still struggle to keep even the small cottage afloat.”

  Sophia’s mind spun. Their words weren’t true. They couldn’t be true. Father would find a way. She knew he would.

  “Perhaps she does realize this,” Miss Ward said, “and that is why she has been throwing herself at the mercy of others.” Her voice quieted further, but Sophia, foolishly, listened on. “Miss Rosewall was supposed to stay with the Madderns, but Miss Kinsey wouldn’t allow it. I, of course, do not blame Miss Kinsey in the slightest. Why, just before you came upon us, I believe Miss Rosewall was in the very act of asking if she could stay with my family! Can you believe it?”

  Mr. Chester barked out a dismal laugh. “The nerve she must have to request such a thing, and for so long. She was no doubt expecting to be provided with a dowry, as well.”

  Sophia shook her head as if they could see her. She did not wish to stay with her neighbors forever. Only until Father could earn enough money to…

  Her breathing shallowed. The musicians tuned their instruments, and the dancers moved toward the center of the floor. Quickly, she pressed up against the wall as Mr. Chester and Miss Ward moved past her.

  “Are you ready to dance now, Miss Ward?”

  “Indeed, Mr. Chester. I have been longing to do so for over a month now.”

  They laughed then disappeared into the crowds.

  Sophia remained where she was. She was not selfish. She was not in denial. Someone would dance with her that evening because…because Father would find a way to provide her with a dowry again.

  She ignored the emptiness of her words and looked to the crowds before her, forcing herself to remain positive. But when she caught sight of Mr. Singleton dancing with not the young Miss Roberts he’d mentioned before, but a different woman entirely, the weight on her shoulders became unbearable.

  It was true. He had not wished to dance with her. And the others?

  She looked around. A few couples skirted their glances away when she caught them staring, and her stomach stiffened.

  How stupid she was to have thought that they had admired her earlier, when their eyes merely revealed their shock at her being there. They were no doubt wondering the same as Mr. Chester and Miss Ward. How did the daughter of a diminished gentleman have the audacity to show her face at a ball?

  No one would wish to dance with her. She was a poor choice in partner, and an even poorer choice in wife.

  Tears pricked her eyes. She bit her lip, refusing to allow her emotions to show. These people, they were correct. She shouldn’t be there. Not in her current financial state. Not until Father could provide for her again.

  If he ever could.

  An urgency quickened her heartbeat. She needed to speak with him. She needed him to calm her worries, just as he had when she was a child, frightened of riding a horse for her first time. Just as he had when she had expressed her concerns with marrying someone out of duty rather than love.

  He had always helped her before. He would help her now.

  She whirled on her heel, but before taking a single step forward, she collided with a green waistcoat. She yelped in surprise and teetered bac
kward, but strong hands clasped her upper arms, preventing her from a fall.

  “Miss Rosewall, are you all right?”

  Chapter Seven

  Sophia squeezed her eyes closed. Why was it him? Of all gentlemen there that evening, why Mr. Hawkins?

  “Excuse me,” she mumbled, attempting to back away.

  Mr. Hawkins maintained his hold of her, his strong hands causing her head to spin. No, the heat of the room and the gossip she’d overheard was what caused her head to spin.

  “Are you unwell?” he asked.

  “No,” she lied. She finally managed to break away, and his hands fell to his side. “Please, excuse me.”

  “Do you have a partner for the second dance?”

  She paused, wincing. Had he been watching her, or was he asking her himself?

  She could laugh at her own stupidity. He would not dance with her. No one would. “No, sir. I need to speak with my father.”

  “Of course. Miss Rosewall, I…”

  He hesitated, and Sophia dared a glance at him. The sincere concern she witnessed was far worse than any look of pity or censure she’d expected.

  Tears threatened to slip past her eyelashes. Her breathing came in hitched tremors. She knew she could not say a word without revealing more than she wished to.

  With a quick curtsy, she flew past him, feeling his eyes upon her as she bumped against shoulders left and right. The music began, signaling the start of the first dance. The first dance for which Sophia did not have partner.

  That hardly mattered now. She needed to find Father. Her advancement did not stop until she rounded the corner and reached the outside of the card room. She allowed herself a moment to regain composure, then peered through the doorway.

  She spotted her father in an instant. He sat behind a table, swirling his drink around in his glass, dark grey circles beneath his eyes. He was the only one not surrounded by conversation and laughter. He was the only one not playing a game.

  Sophia’s heart plummeted, the sinking sensation pulling her breath down with it. She shouldn’t have asked him to come. He must have known how she would be treated, how they both would be treated. Yet he had done so for her, his daughter.