Page 18 of Love’s Refrain at Roslyn Court (Noble Hearts #2)
Eighteen
SOPHIA
M r Bladestock returned the following morning, as he had promised.
His task today was one that would take him throughout the neighbourhood, delivering all those invitations he had spent so long writing, whilst Sophia had been lying half-insensible on the sofa.
What a kind man, to give so much of his time, no matter how much he had been pressed into this by Lady Poole.
Ordinarily, the delivery of such formal invitations involved staying for a short visit, and despite Mr Bladestock merely being the messenger, Sophia still imagined he would end the day far later than he hoped.
Thank heavens her aunt had not pressed her to accompany him, for she would never manage the list of chores on her list for today.
By the middle of the afternoon, she had accomplished a great deal.
She had settled on a final menu with Cook, had consulted with her aunt to have it approved, and then had spent the remainder of the morning in the pantries, taking inventory of what supplies they had in store for the selections of food to be prepared, and then making more lists of those items that needed replenishing.
The fresh food items they would require, such as fish and cheeses and fruits, would be procured later, although they must be ordered soon.
The fish would be brought in from the port, packed in ice, and Cook must have the necessary ingredients on hand to start on the white soup.
Those, too, must be ordered at once. Oh, there was a great deal of work still to be done.
Then, after a short respite over cold tea and one of the small pies left over from last night’s dinner, she found Mrs Oswald, to assess the various public rooms in the house and discuss which would be set up for the reception, and what particular activities might take place there.
Cards in the small salon, music (should people wish to exhibit) in the music room, the large salon to the back of the house for the supper, and the great hall, which was so seldom used and had not seen activity for these six months and more, for the principal gathering.
Then came the discussions of where to set the small band, how many chairs to bring in and where to place them, and how to allow for dancing to naturally occur should somebody request it, without it seeming like the family had planned a ball.
The Pooles were still in mourning, after all, despite all appearances.
It was nigh on three o’clock when Sophia heard the great chimes at the front door.
She thought little of it, for there would be no callers for her today.
This must be one of Lady Poole’s friends, come to have a quick natter before going home for dinner, an event so common as to be forgotten in a moment.
It was greatly to her surprise, then, when Mr Bladestock walked through the door a few minutes later.
“Whatever are you doing here?” Sophia blurted out before catching herself. “I did not mean to imply that you are unwelcome, only I imagined you would have returned to Clarehurst.”
“It is a pleasure to see you too, Miss Bradley.” He gave her a cheeky grin and swept his arm in an elaborate bow. “In truth, I was set for there, but wished to tell you of my progress and so took a short diversion in my path. Ashburton dines late, and will not miss me for a while. May I sit?”
How embarrassing. This was no way to treat such a guest. “Yes, yes! Of course. Forgive me. I was only surprised, and rather beyond the capacity for rational thought at the moment.”
“Your aunt is working you too hard. You are a lady, not a packhorse. I shall speak to her?—”
“No!” What horrors that image occasioned. “She will only smile at you and then be all the stricter on me. I do not mind the work; I only wish I had a little more time to do it.”
Mr Bladestock gestured to the tea tray, still sitting on its tray near the door. “If I may be so rude as to ask, is there any left? The sun is warm and the roads dusty, and I am quite dry.”
Without waiting for an answer, he rose to look for himself.
“It is quite cold,” Sophia confessed. “It began that way, and has not become warmer or fresher since eleven.”
“Then we must have more!” He strode over to the bell, and a moment later, a servant’s head appeared at the doorway. “May we have a spot of tea?” He looked to Sophia. “When do you dine? I would not have you spoil your meal.”
“I shall take a tray in my room. I am not welcome at the family table at the moment.”
“What?” His brow creased in displeasure. Then he turned back to the servant. “A tray of tea and something to eat, enough for two, please. Your mistress will not deny a guest some refreshments.”
The servant bobbed her head and disappeared to pursue her task.
Then Mr Bladestock returned his attention to Sophia. “Not welcome at the family table? What is this? I thought you quite one of them. Surely you are not sent to eat with the servants each night. You are out in society with them often enough.”
Sophia let out a great rush of air and fell into the armchair. “It is only what you see now. I am, most of the time, quite one of the family. My uncle insisted on that from the moment I came into this house. He is very good to me. But my aunt…”
She shrugged and Mr Bladestock frowned again.
“She fears that I will somehow detract attention from her own daughters. I cannot think how, for they are both beautiful and sweet, as well as being wealthy and the daughters of a baronet. Whereas I am plain and quiet, with no fortune and shocking parents. You must have heard… Yes, I can see in your eyes that you have. What man of sense would look at me when my cousins are there? I cannot understand my aunt’s mind at all. ”
“Can you not?” Mr Bladestock murmured, but then changed the topic. “And your exile from the dinner table?”
“Aunt insists that after my long days preparing for this reception, I will be too tired to wish for company, and will do better with a meal in my rooms. Perhaps she is not wrong. But she really wishes to keep me away from Major Hollimore. That is another of her preconceptions that I fail to completely comprehend.”
“Then there is no… attachment between you?” He rose and walked to the window, staring out into the garden for some moments.
Sophia opened her mouth to reply, but no words came.
Was there an attachment? There was certainly one on her part, but esteeming a man did not mean there was an engagement on the horizon.
And she certainly had no notion of what Isaac’s sentiments might be.
He seemed to enjoy her company, and needed her music at times, but that was far from a declaration of great affection.
Thoughts and fancies whirled in her head, and she struggled to make sense enough of them to answer this simple question.
Eventually, she managed to create a coherent thought.
“We are friends.”
He turned around to look directly at her, eyebrows raised under his golden hair. “Nothing more?”
“Nothing more.”
And more the pity for it.
They sat for a while over their tea. It was hot and fresh, quite unlike what she had been brought earlier, and the rolls still warm, served with butter and jam.
For a while Mr Bladestock took the greater part of the conversation, chatting easily about the house in which he grew up, his adventures at school, his delight in music, and more, requiring very little from Sophia, other than the occasional nod and agreement.
She suspected this was a deliberate choice on his part, allowing her the pleasure of dining in company, without the obligation of being entertaining herself.
She could take her ease and eat in peace and comfort.
It was most considerate of him.
Much of what he did was considerate, she now considered.
He had come to help her at her aunt’s request, but he did far more than the minimum required.
He had ordered her a tray of hot and fresh sustenance where she otherwise would have done with cold leavings, and he deciphered her mood, giving her what she needed now.
She had described Isaac as a friend, despite wishing for more from him. But Mr Bladestock would make a very fine friend indeed. She did not see him the same way she saw Isaac, but his company was welcome, and she hoped he would return tomorrow.
In a house where she was feeling increasingly isolated, where she was being deliberately removed from the people she liked, she was most pleased to have a friend.