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Lady Bridgerton swallowed uncomfortably, and her cheeks took on the slightest hue of pink, almost as if she were actually embarrassed by her riches—and Sophie’s lack thereof.
“But that...” Sophie said, motioning to the bag, “that’s not what’s important. What you have ...” She stopped and swallowed, doing battle with the lump in her throat. “I don’t mean what you own ...”
“I know what you mean, Sophie.” Lady Bridgerton dabbed at her eyes with her fingers. “Thank you.”
Sophie’s shoulders rose and fell in a tiny shrug. “It’s the truth.”
“Let me give you some money before you go, Sophie,” Lady Bridgerton blurted out.
Sophie shook her head. “I couldn’t. I’ve already taken two of the dresses you gave me. I didn’t want to, but—”
“It’s all right,” Lady Bridgerton assured her. “What else could you do? The ones you came with are gone.” She cleared her throat. “But please, let me give you some money.” She saw Sophie open her mouth to protest and said, “Please. It would make me feel better.”
Lady Bridgerton had a way of looking at a person that truly made one want to do as she asked, and besides that, Sophie really did need the money. Lady Bridgerton was a generous lady; she might even give Sophie enough to book third-class passage across the ocean. Sophie found herself saying, “Thank you,” before her conscience had a chance to grapple with the offer.
Lady Bridgerton gave her a brief nod and disappeared down the hall.
Sophie took a long, shaky breath, then picked up her bag and walked slowly down the stairs. She waited in the foyer for a moment, then decided she might as well wait outside. It was a fine spring day, and Sophie thought that a bit of sun on her nose might be just the thing to make her feel better. Well, at least a little bit better. Besides, she’d be less likely to run into one of the Bridgerton daughters, and much as she was going to miss them, she just didn’t want to have to say good-bye.
Still clutching her bag in one hand, she pushed open the front door and descended the steps.
It shouldn’t take too long for the coach to be brought around. Five minutes, maybe ten, maybe—
“Sophie Beckett!”
Sophie’s stomach dropped right down to her ankles. Araminta. How could she have forgotten?
Frozen into inaction, she looked around and up the stairs, trying to figure out which way to flee. If she ran back into the Bridgerton house, Araminta would know where to find her, and if she took off on foot—
“Constable!” Araminta shrieked. “I want a constable!”
Sophie dropped her bag and took off running.
“Someone stop her!” Araminta screamed. “Stop thief! Stop thief!”
Sophie kept running, even though she knew it would make her look guilty. She ran with every last fiber in her muscles, with every gulp of air she could force into her lungs. She ran and she ran and she ran ...
Until someone tackled her, thumping into her back and knocking her to the ground.
“I got her!” the man yelled. “I got her for you!”
Sophie blinked and gasped at the pain. Her head had hit the pavement with a stunning blow, and the man who had caught her was practically sitting on her abdomen.
“There you are!” Araminta crowed as she hurried over. “Sophie Beckett. The nerve!”
Sophie glared at her. Words didn’t exist to express the loathing in her heart. Not to mention that she was in too much pain to speak.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Araminta said, smiling evilly. “Posy told me she’d seen you.”
Sophie closed her eyes for a longer than the usual blink. Oh, Posy. She doubted that she’d meant to give her away, but Posy’s tongue had a way of getting ahead of her mind.
Araminta planted her foot very close to Sophie’s hand— the one that was being held immobile by her captor’s fingers around her wrist—then smiled as she moved her foot onto Sophie’s hand. “You shouldn’t have stolen from me,” Araminta said, her blue eyes glinting.
Sophie just grunted. It was all she could manage.
“You see,” Araminta continued gleefully, “now I can have you thrown in jail. I suppose I could have done so before, but now  I have the truth on my side.”
Just then, a man ran up, skidding to a halt before Araminta. “The authorities are on the way, milady. We’ll have this thief  taken away in no time.”
Sophie caught her lower lip between her teeth, torn between praying that the authorities would be delayed until Lady Bridgerton came outside, and praying that they’d come right away, so that the Bridgertons would never see her shame.
And in the end, she got her wish. The latter one, that was. Not two minutes later the authorities arrived, threw her into a wagon, and carted her off to jail.
And all Sophie could think of as she rode away was that the Bridgertons would never know what had happened to her, and maybe that was for the best.
Chapter 21
La, but such excitement yesterday on the front steps of Lady Bridgerton’s residence on Bruton Street!
First, Penelope Featherington was seen in the company of not one, not two, but THREE Bridgerton brothers, surely a heretofore impossible feat for the poor girl, who is rather infamous for her wallflower ways. Sadly (but perhaps predictably) for Miss Featherington, when she finally departed, it was on the arm of the viscount, the only married man in the bunch.
If Miss Featherington were to somehow manage to drag a Bridgerton brother to the altar, it would, surely mean the end of the world as we know it, and This Author, who freely admits she would not know heads from tails in such a world, would be forced to resign her post on the spot.