Page 33 of Lady Sophia's Lover
Sophia covered her reddened face with her hands. Her voice filtered between her stiff fingers. “Oh, what must he think of me?”
Ross came from behind the desk and stood before her. “No doubt he thinks that you are a kind and caring woman.”
“I am sorry,” she said again. “I did not realize that Sir Grant was here. I should not have come to you so impetuously, nor should I have…It’s just that I am in the habit of…”
“Of touching me?”
She squirmed in discomfort. “I have become too familiar with you. Now that you are well again, things must return to the way they were before.”
“I hope not,” he replied quietly. “I enjoy our familiarity, Sophia.” He reached for her, but Sophia stepped back hastily.
Averting her eyes, she asked in a subdued tone, “Whydidyou send for me?”
A long moment passed before he replied. “I’ve just received word from my mother of what she assures me is a great crisis in her household.”
“No one is ill, I hope?”
“I’m afraid it is far more serious than that,” he said sardonically. “It pertains to an upcoming birthday party she is giving for my grandfather.”
Perplexed, Sophia looked up into his dark face as he continued.
“Apparently my mother’s housekeeper, Mrs. Bridgewell, has suddenly gotten married. She had been seeing an army sergeant, who proposed to her when he learned that the regiment was soon to be moved to Ireland. Naturally Mrs. Bridgewell wished to accompany her new husband to his new post. The family wishes her well, but unfortunately, her absence occurs in the midst of preparations for my grandfather’s ninetieth birthday celebration.”
“Oh, dear. When will the event take place?”
“In precisely a week.”
“Oh, dear,” Sophia said again, remembering from the great household she had worked at in Shropshire that such large festivities required meticulous planning and near-flawless execution. Food, flowers, guest accommodations…there would be an overwhelming mass of work involved. Sophia pitied the underservants who would be required to step in to manage things.
“Who will arrange things for your mother, then?”
“You,” Ross muttered with a scowl. “She wants you. The family carriage is waiting outside. If you are willing, you are to leave for Berkshire at once.”
“Me?” Sophia was stunned. “But there must be someone else who can take Mrs. Bridgewell’s place!”
“According to my mother, no. She has asked for your assistance.”
“I cannot! That is, I have no experience in taking care of something like this.”
“You do quite well at managing the servants here.”
“Threeservants,” Sophia said in agitation. “When your mother must have dozens and dozens.”
“About fifty,” he told her in a deliberately offhand manner, as if the number were of little significance.
“Fifty! I can’t be in charge of fifty people! Surely there is someone far more suitable than I.”
“Perhaps if the housekeeper’s departure had been less precipitate, they would have found someone else. As it is, you are my mother’s best hope.”
“I pity her, then,” she remarked with great feeling.
He laughed suddenly. “It is only a party, Sophia. If all goes well, my mother will no doubt take the credit for everything. If it proves to be a disaster, we’ll blame it all on the absent Mrs. Bridgewell. There is nothing for you to worry about.”
“But what about you? Who will take care of you and manage things here while I am gone?”
He reached out and fingered the white collar at the neck of her dark blue dress, the back of his knuckle brushing the tender underside of her chin. “It appears I will have to make do without you.” His voice lowered to an intimate pitch. “I expect it will be a long week indeed.”
Standing so close to him, Sophia could smell the tang of his shaving soap, the touch of coffee on his breath. “Will your entire family be there?” she asked warily. “Including your brother and his wife?” The prospect of abiding beneath the same roof as Matthew was distinctly unappealing.
