Page 51 of My Devoted Viscount (Brazen Bluestockings #2)

After they’d come back to the house from the beach, Fairfax, Mr. Huntley, and Mildred had adjourned to the drawing room with Mrs. Digby and Mrs. Royston.

Sophia and Theo had both wanted to be there, but Mildred assured them she’d be fine, and this was something she needed to do on her own. With her betrothed.

Having accomplished her goal of getting Mildred and Matthew engaged, Sophia concentrated on her work.

They were close to Major Digby’s retirement, which meant she was close to finishing her part of the memoir project.

She refused to think about leaving Hobart Grange yet.

At least she had employment waiting for her, another teaching position.

And unlike the day she arrived, she’d depart with a full purse of coins after Mrs. Digby paid her.

And Sophia was absolutely not thinking about the shocking family revelations of yesterday and last night.

How could Wallace have thought his brother was illegitimate?

Clearly it wasn’t about him wanting to be the heir instead of Vincent.

After years of working with adolescent girls, she recognized a wounded child who had not been tended, had not healed.

The death of their mother had impacted the boys far more than anyone had recognized, most of all the boys themselves.

Perhaps now they could heal. Both Wallace and Fairfax.

Xavier rapped on the library door as he stepped across the threshold. “Am I disturbing you? I can come back if this is not a good time.”

Sophia put her quill pen in the holder and shook out her hand. “No, your timing is perfect. I would welcome an excuse to pause.”

He stopped beside the desk. “Truly? I’m not keeping you from your work?”

“Mrs. Digby is currently occupied elsewhere. Please, do join me.” She gestured at the armchairs.

Still standing beside her, he pointed at one of the completed sheets in Sophia’s best handwriting, and the sheet covered with shorthand at her elbow. “I would like to know more about how you do this. The vicar who tried to teach me was good at doing but not very good at teaching.”

“A problem more common than one might think.” She retrieved two stacks of paper from the bottom drawer, each tied with a string.

She tugged out the top few pages of each.

“This is the beginning of Mrs. Digby’s memoir.

Would you like to study and compare? Each page of shorthand covers about three pages of longhand. ”

His eyebrows rose as he compared the pages.

“Much more useful,” he murmured as he wandered over to the window seat, papers in hand.

As he sat, she heard paper crinkling. He popped back up and returned to the desk, retrieving a packet from his coat pocket.

“My humble apologies. I told Kendall I would deliver this to you and I almost forgot.”

She took the packet, too thick to be a single letter, and glanced at her cousin’s spidery writing on the outside.

Unwilling to read bad news in front of company, she set it aside.

“I’ll get my reticule later and reimburse Kendall for the postage.

” Goodness, how many of her few remaining coins would she need to spend on rejections?

“No need,” Xavier murmured, his attention already focused on comparing two sheets of paper. “Vinny franked it.”

It took a moment for Sophia to register it was Fairfax that he referred to in such an informal manner. She tried to picture the brothers as children, roughhousing in the nursery. Fairfax giving the young man across from her a ride on his back as a toddler. The image made her smile.

She set her parcel on the far corner of the desk, saving it for later.

She had often complained that it was unfair that the people who didn’t have to pay for postage were the people who could most afford to pay it.

In this instance, however, given her very limited funds until Mrs. Digby paid her, she would count herself lucky to be lodging with a viscount and that Fairfax had done her this kindness.

“This truly is like learning another language,” Xavier muttered.

“Would you like to practice?” At his nod, she handed him blank sheets and set the enameled box with pencils and penknives on the desk between them, while he pulled up a chair to the other side of the desk.

She transcribed another page while Xavier worked in reverse, copying a page of text into shorthand.

About halfway down the page he switched the pencil to his other hand. “Ah, yes, much better,” he murmured, writing faster. “This is going to be very helpful writing sermons.”

Sophia set aside her pen and watched him. Could he also play the violin with either hand, as Fairfax did? “May I be so bold as to ask if you feel a strong calling to serve in the church? Or is it because you’re a younger son and the church is preferable to military service?”

His hands stilled as he met her direct gaze. “It’s my penance.”

He blithely returned to scratching more symbols while Sophia tried not to let her jaw fall open in surprise.

After a moment he set aside the pencil. “If I had been born a girl, my mother would likely still be alive.” He tried to sound nonchalant but Sophia heard the underlying pain in his voice.

“By all accounts, my mother had the singing voice of an angel. After getting their heir and two spares, my parents still hoped to have a daughter. But instead, heaven reclaimed one of its angels.”

“That … that hardly seems your fault, something for which you must serve penance.” Sophia’s heart ached for the little boy deprived of a mother while growing up.

Xavier shrugged.

Startled by shouts from down the hall, they both turned their heads. “That sounded like Mrs. Digby!”

“And Matthew!”

They hurried from the library, following the shouts and excited conversation with many voices speaking loudly at once, until they reached the billiards room.

Everyone quieted down as Mrs. Digby leaned over the billiards table, aimed her cue, and took her shot.

The snick of balls striking seemed loud, followed by the thunk of balls falling into the side and corner pockets, until only one ball remained on the table.

It slowly bounced off the side and rolled to a stop in the middle of the green felt.

Mrs. Digby raised her cue over her head as she shouted in triumph. She held one hand out, palm up, to Mr. Huntley. “Pay up, young man!”

Sophia also noticed Fairfax handing coins to Mrs. Royston, who crowed in triumph.

Mildred congratulated Mrs. Digby.

Mr. Huntley stared at Mildred and feigned being affronted, his palm to his chest. “Shouldn’t you be consoling me?”

“I’m sorry, my darling. I thought you would be used to losing to Mrs. Digby by now.” Mildred batted her eyelashes at Huntley.

Huntley gasped in mock outrage, then chuckled and tucked Mildred’s arm through his and she beamed up at him, while Fairfax laughed.

Mrs. Digby finally noticed Sophia and Xavier in the doorway. “Yes?”

Sophia shrugged her shoulders. “We heard a commotion.”

“Came to see what caused the excitement,” Xavier added.

“This unlicked cub got another lesson in respecting his elders,” Mrs. Digby said, her broad grin belying her stern words.

“It’s not fair,” Huntley said, his eyes twinkling in mirth. “You have so much more time to practice than I do.”

“All the more reason you should have known better than to wager with her,” Fairfax drawled.

“But didn’t I see that you lost a bet to Aunt Agnes?”

Before they could argue further, Kendall appeared in the doorway and announced dinner would be ready in twenty minutes.

“Off you go,” Mrs. Digby said. She turned to Mildred.

“Enid will show you to your room.” She grasped one of Mildred’s hands.

“I should take a birch to your backside for the danger you put yourself in, miss, but I will leave it to your parents to sort that out.” She pulled Mildred closer and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

“Until then, once again, welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mildred said, her voice quavering on the edge of tears.

As they filed out of the billiards room and toward the staircase, Mildred touched Sophia’s elbow when they began to turn in opposite directions. “Aren’t you coming upstairs?”

“In a minute. I just need to tidy the desk.”

Sophia quickly put away her writing tools and papers, leaving Xavier’s practice sheets out for him.

The packet on the edge of the desk teased her.

Biting her bottom lip, she debated going upstairs and leaving it for later, or taking it with her.

She couldn’t bear the idea of bad news waiting for her or reading it in front of Ruby.

She broke the seal.

Four letters were inside, wrapped in a note from her cousin Claire expressing the hope that Sophia was doing well and that the correspondence she was forwarding contained good news.

With an aggrieved huff, Sophia noted the dates and realized Claire had taken her sweet time in forwarding the correspondence.

Had she delayed good news or bad? Could her cousin have alleviated Sophia’s anxiety about finding employment days or weeks ago?

Or had she given her a reprieve from rejection?

The first was a notice that they’d already hired a teacher. Not surprising, as it was one of the first positions she had applied for when she learned the academy would close, and it had been posted for at least a week before she saw the advertisement.

The second contained a counteroffer. They’d filled the position in Bournemouth but would she consider teaching at their other location, near Birmingham?

That school was double in size, as would be her workload, and promised a twenty-five percent increase in salary over what the first position had offered.