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She squeezed his hand. “You and me both, but let’s not tell Mother and Father. Mama has just come around to the notion—I think the wedding preparation has placated her—and Papakeeps glancing at me with such sad eyes. I would hate to make it worse.”

“You have my word.” James smiled, pretending to lock his mouth with an invisible key. “I am just sorry you won’t get your wild dream of being a wayward, foul-mouthed, daring, cautionary tale of a spinster.”

Sophia laughed at that, surprised by the bubbling joy of it. She had not thought she would be able to laugh at all, with tomorrow rushing towards her, unstoppable and determined.

“As am I, Brother.” She grinned. “I had high hopes of giving the matrons of Society nightmares, making them worry that their darling daughters might end up like me—alone, unwed, and utterly content with their situations.”

But James did not laugh, staring down into his lap. “I always supported your decision to be a spinster, but I suppose I always had a faint hope that you’d find a love match. Someone worthy of you.”

“James, I thought you said I should pretend that tomorrow will not happen,” she prompted gently, for if they were both stuck in the mire of melancholy, it would make for a very dull evening. And she wanted her last evening of freedom to be a memorable one.

He brightened a little and smacked his forehead. “Quite right you are! So, tell me. On this fine evening, will you be persuaded to dance?”

“We can’t talk aboutthateither,” she chided, shuddering at the thought.

Lord and Lady Whittaker’s grand manor was buzzing with chatter and laughter. Despite her aversion to dancing, Sophia loved balls, even if it was just for the music and the food. That night was no exception, a lively orchestra playing a jaunty tune that made her heart sing, while the buffet tables in the refreshment room were piled high with delicacies that made her mouth water: sweetmeats, hors d’oeuvres, fresh fruits, cakes, and a dedicated servant to shave ice from an impressive block, adding fruity syrup in vivid colors.

As she floated through the venue with glee, James escorted her with a barely disguised frown on his face. She hoped to see some of her old friends, to spend some time with them and gossip—for, as her brother had said, she did not know when she might be granted another opportunity.

“There are so many people. I have not seen a ball like this in ages!” she exclaimed with joy, all thoughts of tomorrow soundly evicted from her mind. “Oh, I think I see Veronica!”

James chuckled stiffly. “Off you go then. I’ll try and find someone I can talk with, and failing that, I shall defenestrate myself.”

“Oh, Brother, don’t be so dramatic.” Sophia hesitated, wondering if it was entirely proper for her chaperone to leave her.

He seemed to notice and leaned in to whisper, “There is nothing they can say about you now. Tonight, you are the most powerful, the most independent that you will ever be, completely protected from scandal and gossip. Savor it.” He let go of her hand. “See you later, Sister. I hope to be regaled with your many adventures.”

Bursting with renewed courage, Sophia held her chin up high and walked off to mingle with the other guests, having lost sight of her old friend Veronica. She started by wandering around and trying to catch conversations and gossip. She loved a good, juicy bit of gossip, despite often being at the center of it. To get the choicest morsels, she knew to keep close to the older women of the ton, as they were the ones circulating the freshest cuts of hearsay.

First of all, she caught herself up on the most recent scandals. Having isolated herself at home for three weeks, she was woefully behind. Lord Smythe had ended up giving a massive dowry to his illegitimate daughter, while Lady Davenport had been caught wasting a quarter of the family fortune in different gambling establishments, dressed as a gentleman! All very titillating, of course, but tonight, she was looking for something a little more… specific.

After a few minutes of skulking around like a badger in the bushes, she finally caught something.

“Did you hear about the Pratt-Kendall debacle?” The question came from a feminine voice a few meters away.

Sophia stepped closer with her back to them, making sure they couldn’t see her face.

“Oh, about the duel?” another voice responded, this one of a man. “That is old and tired news, surely.”

“Theweddingis not,” the first voice chided irritably. “It is tomorrow, and not a single one of us has been invited. I suppose they know we shall roll our eyes and titter behind our hands at the ridiculousness of it all.”

Another female voice joined in. “Itreeksof desperation, does it not? The Duke of Heathcote can have any lady he desires, yet he has wasted the honor on that… shelved spinster.”

“Ah…” The man cleared his throat awkwardly. “Darling, I believe wewereinvited, but I thought it was a jape. A Pratt and a Kendall marrying? Who would not?”

The first woman—the man’s wife, presumably—gasped in horror. “You must remedy this! Do you know how important this is? Imustbe there!”

“It is not sport, darling,” the man replied. “I am almost twice as glad I did not respond. It is beneath us to involve ourselves in the chaos of others.”

The other female chuckled. “Chaos, indeed. The two families will be at each other’s throats before the end of the year again, mark my words. At least it will give that drab spinster some amusement. I doubt she has much to look forward to.”

Sophia had heard enough. She stepped up, approaching the group of three. She couldn’t let herself or her family name be besmirched as a woman forced into a marriage of convenience, and, as James had said, tonight was the most powerful she would ever be. She had to put forward a different story, one that would be believable, even if it was a lie.

“What marriage is that?” she asked with a face of innocence.

The first woman was the one who responded. “Oh, that would be the Pratts and the Kendalls, dear.”

Sophia nodded in fake agreement as she caught the man recognizing her and panicking out of the corner of her eye.