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A small, choked sob burst forth from Sophie’s mouth, but she swallowed it down as quickly as she could.
“I wish that you were of a different background,” Lady Bridgerton continued, acknowledging Sophie’s cry with a sympathetic tilt of her head and a sad, slow blink of her eyes. “Not that I hold such a thing against you, or think the less of you, but it  makes things very difficult.”
“Impossible,” Sophie whispered.
Lady Bridgerton didn’t say anything, and Sophie knew that in her heart she agreed—if not completely, then ninety-eight percent—with her assessment.
“Is it possible,” Lady Bridgerton asked, her words even more measured and careful than before, “that your background is  not quite what it seems?”
Sophie said nothing.
“There are things about you that don’t add up, Sophie.”
Sophie knew that she expected her to ask what, but she had a fair idea what Lady Bridgerton meant.
“Your accent is impeccable,” Lady Bridgerton said. “I know you told me that you had lessons with the children your mother worked for, but that doesn’t seem like enough of an explanation to me. Those lessons wouldn’t have started until you were a  bit older, six at the very earliest, and your speech patterns would have already been rather set by that point.”
Sophie felt her eyes widen. She’d never seen that particular hole in her story, and she was rather surprised that no one else  had until now. But then again, Lady Bridgerton was a good deal smarter than most of the people to whom she had told her fabricated history.
“And you know Latin,” Lady Bridgerton said. “Don’t try to deny it. I heard you muttering under your breath the other day  when Hyacinth vexed you.”
Sophie kept her gaze fixed firmly on the window just to Lady Bridgerton’s left. She couldn’t quite bring herself to meet her eyes.
“Thank you for not denying it,” Lady Bridgerton said. And then she waited for Sophie to say something, waited so long that finally Sophie had to fill the interminable silence.
“I’m not a suitable match for your son,” was all she said.
“I really have to go.” She had to get the words out quickly, before she changed her mind.
Lady Bridgerton nodded. “If that is your wish, there is nothing I can do to stop you. Where is it you plan to go?”
“I have relatives in the north,” Sophie lied.
Lady Bridgerton clearly didn’t believe her, but she answered, “You will, of course, use one of our carriages.”
“No, I couldn’t possibly.”
“You can’t think I would permit you to do otherwise. I consider you to be my responsibility—at least for the next few days—and it is far too dangerous for you to leave unescorted. It’s not safe for women alone in this world.”
Sophie couldn’t quite suppress a rueful smile. Lady Bridgerton’s tone might be different, but her words were almost exactly those uttered by Benedict a few weeks earlier. And look where that had gotten her. She would never say that she and Lady Bridgerton were close friends, but she knew her well enough to know that she would not be budged on this issue.
“Very well,” Sophie acceded. “Thank you.” She could have the carriage drop her off somewhere, preferably not too far from  a port where she could eventually book passage to America, and then decide where to go from there.
Lady Bridgerton offered her a small, sad smile. “I assume you already have your bags packed?”
Sophie nodded. It didn’t seem necessary to point out that she only had one bag, singular.
“Have you made all of your good-byes?”
Sophie shook her head. “I’d rather not,” she admitted.
Lady Bridgerton stood and nodded. “Sometimes that is best,” she agreed. “Why don’t you await me in the front hall? I will  see to having a coach brought ‘round.”
Sophie turned and started to walk out, but when she reached the doorway, she stopped and turned around.  “Lady Bridgerton, I—”
The older lady’s eyes lit up, as if she were expecting some good news. Or if not good, then at least something different. “Yes?”
Sophie swallowed. “I just wanted to thank you.”
The light in Lady Bridgerton’s eyes dimmed a little. “Whatever for?”
“For having me here, for accepting me, and allowing me to pretend I was a part of your family.”
“Don’t be sil—”
“You didn’t have to let me take tea with you and the girls,” Sophie interrupted. If she didn’t get this all out now, she’d lose her courage. “Most women wouldn’t have done. It was lovely ... and new ... and ...” She gulped. “I will miss you all.”
“You don’t have to go,” Lady Bridgerton said softly.
Sophie tried to smile, but it came out all wobbly, and it tasted like tears. “Yes,” she said, almost choking on the word. “I do.”
Lady Bridgerton stared at her for a very long moment, her pale blue eyes filled with compassion and then maybe a touch of realization. “I see,” she said quietly.
And Sophie feared that she did see.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Lady Bridgerton said.
Sophie nodded as she stood aside to let the dowager viscountess pass. Lady Bridgerton paused in the hallway, looking down at Sophie’s well-worn bag. “Is that all you have?” she asked.
“Everything in the world.”