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Miss Sophia's Spirited Spinster's Society

Page 12

by Charlotte Stone


  All of that was made worse when Morris’ mention of the rumor starting to float around with the ladies at her table. There was no mention of who the woman he’d been seen with was but Sophia knew it only a matter of time before her name was mentioned.

  Which brought her back to the dress.

  “I can’t wear this.”

  “Why not? It was made for you.” Mr. Taylor leaned against the table and watched her.

  She sighed and remembered she had no reason to be embarrassed around her father. Also, she felt it time she told him the truth where Morris was concerned. She didn’t want him finding out when the rumor was finally complete and reached his ears.

  “I’m not worthy of that dress, Father. I’ll look like a girl making her debut.” She tried to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it. “I believe I’m far past a girl’s first blush.”

  He scoffed. “You’re being dramatic. The dress will look lovely on you, and I’ve already consulted with Kitty on how she is to style your hair and what jewelry you are to wear tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow. Her heart raced at the knowledge that Christmas would be on her before she knew it. There was still so much to oversee and do for the day. There was to be dancing and the musicians were lodging in the village and Sophia wished to see them. She also needed to check with the cook to ensure that the kitchen staff knew when to rotate and refresh foods.

  “And the pudding,” she whispered to herself. There was supposed to be a crate of ingredients delivered that very day. At least five puddings were on the menu.

  Her mind stopped rushing when her father squeezed her shoulders. “Calm down, Sophia. Everything is on schedule for tomorrow. The housekeeper has seen to everything and Lady Cort has volunteered to see that the day goes well and that you have time to enjoy it.”

  “A guest can’t assist.” She shook her head and stared at him suspiciously. “How is Lady Cort, by the way? I see you are quite often together.”

  Her father smiled and something warm filled his green eyes. “I think I’ve managed to find myself in love.”

  Sophia gasped. “With Lady Cort?” She smiled. “Does she know?”

  He shook his head. “She’s not ready to know.”

  Her smile fell. “Oh, dear. Do you think she’ll refuse you?” How often in the past had she hoped her father would find happiness with a woman again? For the longest time, he seemed to hardly care who he slept with, so long as the woman was pretty and willing, but she’d noticed a difference during the past few days. She’d caught him and Lady Cort not only running toward one another’s bedchambers like a maid and footman who wished to steal away a few minutes but had also seen them play chess in the room that had been set up for games and had watched him take to the ice a few times. When she’d heard of the legend of the Grand Lynx, she’d been informed that the woman never let her bed partners leave the room. Her father had to mean something to her.

  “There is a chance she’ll refuse but I’m not worried about it.” Her father’s face became serious. “I am worried about you, however. She told me about Morris’ affections for you. Why didn’t you tell me it was more than simple attraction?”

  Sophia’s heart ached. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see the point in saying anything. I’ve refused him.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He lifted her chin. “Sophia, nothing in the world matters more than this. I want you to be happy. Why did you refuse this man? Do you not love him?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I do.”

  “Then why say no?”

  She moved away from him and turned to the dress, knowing what sort of woman deserved to wear it. “He needs to marry a woman who can elevate his position in the ton.”

  “He’s a duke; it doesn’t get much higher than that, my dear, unless the king and at least fifteen other relatives die.” Somewhere down the family line, Morris was related to the royal family.

  She laughed and turned to her father. “He wants to be Prime Minister. He needs a wife who can help make that so.”

  “And you believe you’re not up to being a duchess?” He lifted a brow. “I daresay when everyone returns to London for the Season, they will be singing your praises as the best hostess there ever was. Ladies and gentlemen will be climbing one on top of the other to get invitations to your events.”

  She smiled, liking the imagery. She was sure that Morris loved her now and perhaps he always would but what would it cost him? “The ton will simply have to accept the invites of tailor’s daughter if they wish to go to one of my gatherings again.” She moved to her father and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “You will wear the dress tomorrow.”

  She sighed. “All right.”

  “And you will allow Lady Cort to assist and you will enjoy yourself or I will have a miserable time.” He pulled away, and she could tell he did not jest.

  She nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  He kissed her head. “Now off with you. I’ve other things to do.”

  She smiled and wondered if those other plans had anything to do with Lady Cort.

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  CHAPTER NINETEEN

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  Morris was riding back to the house with the other men who’d gone out shooting when he saw Sophia and her lady’s maid stepping out of the door and heading toward a carriage. He quickly rode toward her and handed his horse to one of the footmen before stepping forward to help her into the carriage.

  She took his hand and met his eyes for a moment before climbing in. Kitty smiled at him as he assisted her then climbed in after her without a word.

  Sophia seemed unsurprised by his sudden appearance. “You’ll only help the rumors.”

  “Your lady’s maid is with us.”

  Kitty just continued to smile, her happiness seeming to overflow. He was glad the woman was on his side when it came to him and Sophia being together.

  The carriage moved forward, and Sophia turned to look out the window. “The country is so vastly different from the city. It’s as though we’re in another world.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, glad she was at least speaking to him. He was mesmerized by her profile. The white light through the window made her skin glow. Her color had warmed since coming to the country months ago but whatever color she was didn’t detract from her beauty. He didn’t think she’d enjoy hearing that he thought she looked every bit of a lady as she sat across from him in her fur-lined cape.

  Her eyes turned to him and she smiled. “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

  “I don’t care.” So long as they were together, he’d go anywhere with her. He saw when his unspoken words registered as her color rose.

  “We’re going to the village. I wish to check on the musicians and make sure that everything is ready for tomorrow. Also, there is a crate of goods for some of the dishes. I’ll be taking those back with us.”

  “This all seems like something one of the staff members could have handled.”

  “I wish to do it myself.”

  He smiled. “Of course.”

  She narrowed her eyes but her lips twitched. He couldn’t judge her mood by the way she was acting. Was she glad to see him or not? Tomorrow was the holiday and the party would end the very next day, which meant that everyone would head in their own directions, going back to their seats in the country, which meant he would not see Sophia until next season, which was over four months away.

  Kitty turned to Sophia, her words bubbling one right over the other. “Miss, you should put up the mistletoe as you did last year when your father hosted that party.” She gave Morris a knowing look.

  The kissing under the mistletoe had been a tradition for centuries.

  Sophia laughed. “Mistle
toe is a middle-class tradition. The ton would frown on such a thing.”

  The lady’s maid wrinkled her nose. “Oh, never mind those ton girls. They’re much too good for anything fun.” Another knowing look came Morris’ way.

  He laughed.

  “Quiet, Kitty,” Sophia whispered, looking flushed.

  Kitty sheepishly lowered her eyes. “Yes, mistress.”

  Morris wouldn’t have minded a little mistletoe if it didn’t mean that everyone else who caught Sophia was allowed to kiss her as well. He’d hurt anyone who touched her.

  Sophia turned to him. “Did your father teach you to hunt?”

  He leaned back into the chair. “No, he died when I was young.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her brows drew together as she frowned.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know him very well, since my role in his life wouldn’t have become important until I was older. Men tend to not spend a great deal of time with their children until they are older. According to my mother, he was a very traditional man, so I suspect that he would have eventually taken me out into the woods and showed me around a rifle.”

  “My father spent a great deal of time with me.” Sophia crossed her legs under the cape. “I can’t imagine a life where I didn’t know him.”

  He smiled. “Your father is a very different man indeed and I am grateful for that.” Had Mr. Taylor been traditional, he’d have left his bastard in the orphanage or sent her to a school far away where she wouldn’t be a nuisance to his legitimate family. Morris usually took precautions so as not to create offspring but as he stared at Sophia, he hoped the smartweed hadn’t worked and prayed she was with child, his child. His heir. His eyes fell to her belly. “I hope I’d be close to any child I fathered.”

  Sophia’s fingers idly went to her belly. He looked up to meet her eyes and she blushed before saying, “I’m sure we will see if your hopes come to fruition sometime in the far future.”

  He chuckled.

  “Who taught you to shoot?”

  “An Oxford professor who’d been a friend of my father’s. There were many men who filled his shows and showed me the things he’d have wished me to know. Some of the other fathers of the Men of Nashwood also helped. Francis’ father and many others affected us all.”

  The boys had spent their summers visiting one estate to the next. Lorena and Francis’ parents had left the greatest impression on all of them because Lord and Lady Valdeston had been different from every couple they’d ever met, affectionate and kind. Many of the rules that governed the brotherhood had been made because of the example that had been set by the Valdestons—fidelity in marriage and honoring those you counted as family.

  Having the Christmas celebration amongst his friends had been a first for them and he hoped it became tradition. He could see Sophia hosting it at Kidd Castle, surrounded by their friends, their children, and the children of their friends. He would insist on it once they were married.

  The carriage stopped in the village and Morris helped the women down and escorted Sophia into the shop where deliveries for the village were brought.

  The space was small but packages lined the farthest wall.

  She smiled as she spied her crate. “There it is.”

  “Just came in this morning,” the shopkeeper said with a smile. “You didn’t have to come to the village for it. We’d have brought it with the other things.”

  Sophia looked inside the crate, beaming over bags of figs. “I don’t mind.”

  Morris enjoyed watching her as she spoke to the shopkeeper about what she had planned for tomorrow’s holiday. Her excitement made her more beautiful and made him hard. He’d been trying to remain calm all morning but her every move seemed to be sensual. From the way she bent to look at the crates to the way she leaned over the counter, presenting them with her rounded backside, Morris couldn’t help but be affected.

  He kept a hand on her lower back if only to be near her.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY

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  The door to the shop opened as they were joined by another person. “You must be Miss Sophia.”

  Sophia turned to face the aged gentleman who came in from the cold with the aid of a cane. His smile made the creases around his mouth deepen. He had light blue eyes and thinning gray hair.

  She stilled and looked the man over, wondering how he knew her. This was only her second visit to Dovehaven and the other visit had only been weeks before the party. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

  The shopkeeper did it for them. “Miss Sophia Taylor, this is Dr. Barton.” He looked at Morris. “I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Lord Cort.”

  The shopkeeper bowed. “My lord, meet Dr. Barton. He’s been in this town for years.”

  “I was born here,” Dr. Barton told him. “And this is where I shall die.” He turned to Sophia, still grinning. “My wife and I have taken care of your family for years. I was there when your father and uncle were born, helped your grandparents through their final days, eased their pains. My wife followed soon after them but they were kind people.” Then he laughed. “And I seem to remember being called on more than one occasion when the twins injured themselves.” He looked off as if recalling a faraway memory. His eyes returned to her. “You look just like them.” He laughed again. “You look like both of them.”

  Sophia laughed and knew that if she’d had any last doubt of whose family she belonged in they were surely gone. “Well, they are twins, are they not?”

  He lifted a finger as he made a point. “Ah, but not identical. I could always tell them apart.”

  “What school did you attend?” Morris asked.

  “Oxford,” the old man said with pride.

  Morris smiled. “Dominus Illuminatio Mea.”

  The words seemed to brighten the old man even more. “You know, I can always recognize a respectable gentleman when I see one.”

  Morris laughed.

  Sophia rolled her eyes but smiled.

  “I assumed the same of you,” Morris went on. “Do you solely attend to the locals?”

  He straightened with pride. “Yes, but I attend His Majesty when he is touring through the area. He’d come once without his personal physician and had caught a mild cold. Since then, he knows to look for me whenever he passes through.”

  Sophia was amazed by all the man had said.

  Dr. Barton then turned the shopkeeper. “I’ve not come for anything. I only happened to see the family carriage outside and thought I’d say hello.”

  Sophia cut in before he said goodbye. “You must join us for dinner tonight. We’re lighting the Christmas candles and there will be plenty of food. You must come. I insist. I’ll have a carriage sent over to your house to see you safely to and fro.”

  Dr. Barton laughed. “Oh, you hardly gave me time to refuse. All right, I’ll accept the invitation and the ride. Thank you.” He took her hand and gave it a kiss.

  Sophia smiled and waved as he left, finding herself anxious to meet the man again. He seemed to know so much about her family’s history, which was a topic that her father and uncle seemed to avoid. She would make sure to set aside time to speak with him alone.

  Once he left, she and Morris followed soon after. A footman secured her belongings to the carriage.

  “I don’t want anything ruined by the weather,” she told him. “Have it all returned to the house and bring the carriage back for us.” The footman nodded and Sophia led the way across the street to the inn. She could hear the orchestra playing before she made it inside, violins and cellos seemed to transport her mind to a place with green fields and warm air. The sound was so sweet that it carried her feet toward the sound and she found the men to be serenading a room of people. It was likely a practice for tomorrow but, to the simple
people around them, it was a treat. Sophia was glad that the players had been willing to come for the holidays. She’d invited their families to partake in the feast and that with their pay had seemed enough to entice them to come all the way to Dovehaven.

  She and Morris took a quiet position against the wall as the music continued and she nearly leaned her head on his chest as the sweet sounds slowly faded away.

  When it ended, everyone applauded them and Sophia made her way over to say hello and once again give the musicians her thanks. They all seemed to welcome her and the duke’s presence. She’d been astonished when he’d taken a chair and sat casually with the other men as through their classes were no different. She’d noticed how he’d gotten along with the doctor at the shop and made the working-class gentlemen smile but this was very different. The ton saw musicians as nothing more than servants but Morris’ compliments and comments were genuine and the violinist laughed at his joke about being unable to play.

  She sat and listened for a while as the other people in the foyer drifted toward the dining room.

  Eventually, one of the men said, “We want to play for you and the lady, sir.”

  Sophia made a move to correct the man and tell him she wasn’t a lady but Morris spoke before she could, requesting a waltz. Then he stood and offered her his hand.

  Not wishing to make it seem as though anything were amiss, she took Morris’ hand and let him take her into the middle of the room. There was not much space, which forced their movements to be small once the romantic music began and Sophia didn’t question when Morris’ pulled her closer, moving the distance between him and forcing her body to brush against his with their every step. To dance this close was scandalous and Sophia felt her arousal more powerful than it had been all morning. She’d kept her desires hidden while they’d spoken earlier, wishing to know more about the man who loved her, but his every look seemed to remind her what it felt like to have him inside of her.

 

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