Page 12 of Summoner of Sins

“He?”

“Lord Whitehouse. He asked me to learn a bit more about you.”

Her stomach filled with a kind of sick dread. “Why would he wish that?”

Elsa gave her an exaggerated wink. “He has been a widower for a long time. He is a man of influence and power, so he requires a bride with at least decent bloodlines, but his deep beliefs require him to find a woman who is pious and obedient.”

Sophie was at a loss for words. Lord Whitehouse had hardly interacted with her. “Surely you're mistaken.”

“I’m not.” Elsa shook her head. “But if you don’t believe me, ask your uncle.”

Sophie intended to do just that.

“I shall see you tomorrow night at the Edgemere ball, correct?” Elsa squeezed her arm.

“Of course,” Sophie answered, but she couldn’t quite make the smile reach her eyes. Leaving Elsa, she rushed back to Tabbie to tell her new friend what she’d learned. While she ought to be thrilled, the idea of marrying Lord Whitehouse…

He was several years her senior, older than her father, possibly, and while he’d certainly be able to provide for Abigail, there was a sternness to his house that left her ill at ease. He kept his intentions shrouded, and she had even stricter rules now than she’d had at her uncle’s when she’d been forced to lock the door every evening.

She walked slowly, considering all she knew as she made her way back to Tabbie.

Tabbie’s brows lifted the moment Sophie reached her side. “Was blind man’s buff that bad?”

Sophie attempted a smile, but she could not hide her concern. “It’s not that. Elsa…she said…” Sophie drew in a deep breath. “She said that Lord Whitehouse is interested in courting me.”

Tabbie gasped, both hands covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she dropped her hands a few inches. “No.”

Sophie shook her head. “I know you said that I shouldn’t consider titled lords.”

“It’s not that. If one is willing to take you without dowry, I recommend you accept.”

“So why do you look so concerned?” Her fears were growing more intense as her hand settled over her heart.

“Because,” Tabbie pulled her even further away from the tables, deeper into the bushes. “He’s not a good man.”

Sophie shivered, drawing back her chin to look at her friend. “But…” Part of her felt the words, her heart fluttering under her hand at the thought of her life under his thumb. Another part argued that her uncle had taken care of her. This was his associate. “My uncle.”

Tabbie’s mouth pinched. “That’s another oddity. Your uncle wasn’t seen in society for thirty years. All of a sudden, he just appears at a ball.”

Sophie blinked several times, trying to reconcile all this new information. “Why would he…”

Tabbie’s hand on her arm tightened as Tabbie leaned closer. “I’m worried for you, Sophie.”

She shook her head. “My uncle isn’t an affectionate man, but he’s been a consistent one. Honest. And Lord Whitehouse’s interest has been very…distant.”

Tabbie winced. “I’m not sure how much to tell you. I don’t want to frighten you or lead you astray with rumor, but it’s said that he’s a religious zealot who kills upper-class men based on their perceived morality.”

Sophie gasped her hand clutching at the bodice of her dress. She didn’t want to believe it. Had she fallen into the clutches of a murderer?

“What are you discussing, Lady Tabetha?” Elsa called, eyeing them both.

Sophie snapped her head up, guilt surely coloring her features. “The salmon that you served was exceptional,” she called, a bit of a tremor in her voice. “And the games, Lady Tabetha was just telling me she wished she’d played blind man’s buff with us.”

Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “She should play with us, but Lady Tabetha is neither playful nor can she take a bit of light ribbing.”

Tabbie let out a small cry of indignation as Elsa, nose in the air, passed by them once again.

“Let’s finish this conversation tomorrow over tea,” Sophie squeezed her friend’s hand. She needed to know more but this was hardly the place.

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