Page 9 of My Devoted Viscount (Brazen Bluestockings #2)

An elderly woman, her back hunched, using a cane to assist her slow progress up the beach, waved a hand at her.

Torn, Sophia looked to the east, but did not see Miss Burrell. She walked west, wondering who could possibly know her here in Sidmouth.

“Miss Walden!” the crone called as they neared each other. “Oh, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you at last, Miss Walden.”

The old woman’s voice sounded vaguely familiar. “Well, here I am.” Sophia held her hands at her sides, at a loss as to the woman’s identity.

The crone chuckled, a raspy sound. “You truly do not recognize me?”

They now stood within arm’s reach of each other.

A black veil hid much of the older woman’s face, and a shapeless grey gown and woolen shawl disguised her figure.

But she wore no gloves. The hand clutching the top of the cane had smooth skin.

No age spots marred it, nor were any joints swollen from arthritis. “Should I?”

This time the chuckle was entirely familiar, and sounded nothing like the raspy laugh of before.

As she pulled the veil up on to her bonnet’s brim, the woman stood up straight.

Despite the heavy powder and rouge and wrinkles drawn on with a charcoal pencil, the blue eyes sparkling with humor were entirely familiar.

“Miss Ebrington?” In shocked delight, Sophia pulled her former student in for a quick embrace before holding her by the shoulders and giving her another look. “What on earth are you doing here, dressed like this?”

Noting the small group of people strolling up the beach getting closer, Miss Mildred Ebrington tugged her veil back into place and hunched her shoulders once more. “It is a long story. Can we go sit on those boulders while we catch up?”

Playing along with the charade, Sophia offered Mildred her arm to help her across the rough ground. As she was selecting suitable boulders for them to sit on, she saw Theo had arrived at her dig site.

Sophia gestured toward where they now heard the rhythmic sound of metal on rock. “Miss Burrell is here. Would you like to speak with her, too, or is your story only for me?”

“Oh, yes, let’s do,” Miss Ebrington said, picking up speed. “This is even better than I had hoped.”

Theo was quick to set down her mallet and chisel, and exchange surprised but delighted greetings. The three of them settled on a boulder and a log that had washed ashore, their heads close together so the breeze could not carry away their conversation.

“You may consider me entirely intrigued,” Sophia said, gesturing at Mildred’s costume and makeup.

“I did not know what else to do. I certainly could not travel with my maid.” Mildred quickly explained how she had found Sophia by writing to her cousin in Tiverton. She was currently staying at an inn in Sidmouth, pretending to be an elderly widow.

“And what made you resort to such desperate measures?” Miss Burrell said.

“It is the most dreadful thing imaginable!” Mildred twisted her cane in her hands. “My father has betrothed me to a gentleman I’ve never met!”

“Given that your parents’ primary reason for sending you to a ladies’ academy was to prepare you to make an advantageous match, I fail to see how that is dreadful,” Theo said, sounding as though she were in front of a class of students once more.

Sophia felt a twist in her gut. She had truly enjoyed teaching and knew Theo did as well. She put her hand over her stomach. Apparently she wasn’t done grieving the loss of the academy where they had both taught for more than five years.

“Father said he has had financial setbacks. That he no longer has the funds to give me a London season and that I must accept the arrangement he was able to make before word gets around about our reduced circumstances.” Miss Ebrington looked ready to cry.

“But the gentleman in question is no gentleman. He is the Earl of Wingfield, a man so debauched, so depraved, he has earned the name Wicked Wingfield. And he is more than twice my age! He probably does not even have hair anymore!”

Well, yes, Sophia could see how being deprived of her come-out and being wed to a man who was already bald could be viewed as a horrible tragedy for a girl of only eighteen years like Mildred.

Sophia sorted through her knowledge of the titled men of the ton but could not recall anything about the Earl of Wingfield, wicked or otherwise.

Miss Burrell gave a slight shake of her head. “Where do your parents think you are?”

Mildred looked up and down the beach, as though her parents might be bearing down on them even now.

“When I could not bring them to see reason, I told them I needed to spend a few days visiting with my Aunt Rosemary. Her home is a two-hour ride from ours. In another day or two they will probably realize I misled them, if they have not already.”

“How do you think that I could help in this situation?” Sophia clasped Mildred’s hand in a show of support.

The girl squeezed Sophia’s fingers. “I could only think that I felt such peace in the music room with you when we played or sang together. I could think clearly there. No one else seems to see this marriage as a tragedy like I do. Perhaps you can help me find a way to change my father’s mind?

” She looked between Sophia and Theo, clearly hoping teachers had the answer that had eluded the student.

“We’ll need to do some research,” Theo said. “Learn what we can about Wingfield. The obvious first step is to look him up in Debrett’s . Unfortunately, my parents do not own a copy.” She glanced at Sophia. “Do you have access to one?”

Naturally Theo would want to conduct research. “Mrs. Digby has a well-stocked library. I’ll see what I can find.”

As they discussed plans to meet up in the next day or two, Mildred began to look anxious again. “The thing is, I’m not sure, that is…”

“Spit it out.” Sophia squeezed the girl’s hand again.

“I am nearly out of money. I was so happy to see you because I only have enough funds to pay for one more night at the inn. And I can afford that only if I don’t eat tonight.”

“You are two days’ travel away from home, and have no more funds?” Theo’s eyebrows rose toward her hairline.

Sophia glanced down the beach toward the inns in Sidmouth, then raised her gaze to the bluff, where she could just see the tops of the chimney stacks sticking up from Hobart Grange. “I am confident Mrs. Digby would not mind a guest while we sort things out.”

“No! She will write to my parents.” Miss Ebrington shook her head, her veil fluttering.

“No, I cannot risk it. I would rather sleep out here on the beach!” She gave a considering glance up and down the shoreline.

“I’m sure I could purchase blankets and a tent like soldiers use, for less than the price of another night at the inn. ”

“Do be serious,” Theo said. “I know you have always been game for an adventure, but you cannot sleep on the beach.”

“It wouldn’t be that different from all the times I went with my brothers to hunt glow-worms down by the pond in the summer, and we stayed out all night. Just took blankets and a flask of lemonade.”

Theo huffed out a breath. “Your brothers are not here.”

“They weren’t after they left for university, either.”

Sophia felt her jaw going slack. “Your parents allowed you to continue spending nights outdoors, alone?”

Miss Ebrington’s eyes crinkled with her sly grin, exaggerated by the “old woman” cosmetics. “I, ah, may have used the drainpipe outside my bedchamber window as egress and ingress.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Theo muttered. “No wonder they sent you to us for polish.”

Sophia slid her gaze from the house and down the bluff, seeking inspiration to resolve their dilemma. The shadowed entrance of the cave with the tunnel leading up to the house caught her attention. A wild, crazy idea presented itself. “How do you feel about sleeping in a cave?”

* * *

Sophia could barely put one foot in front of the other by the time she prepared for bed.

Mildred should be settled in the cave by now, eating the roll, cheese, and nuts that Sophia had saved from her evening meal and left by the blanket in the cave, along with several candles.

No easy feat, since Henry liked to follow her into the tunnel and was always looking for a treat.

Certainly by tomorrow Mildred would see reason about staying in the house as Mrs. Digby’s guest. Sophia shuddered at even the idea of being in the cavern when the bats flew out for their evening feed, let alone spending an entire night with only candles to dispel the complete darkness of the cave.

Having washed and changed into her night rail, Sophia wandered over to the window to watch the waves crashing ashore while she brushed out her braids.

Early in the morning, before Mrs. Digby rose, Sophia planned to go into the library to look for a copy of Debrett’s and learn about Mildred’s fiancé.

Movement on the beach caught her eye. The moon was waning but there remained enough light that she definitely saw a female figure on the beach, grey gown and shawl fluttering in the breeze.

Odd. She had not seen Mrs. Royston walking on the beach before. She always paced up on the bluff.

Perhaps it was taking longer for Mildred, dressed and behaving as an old widow, to transfer her belongings from the inn to the cave than Sophia had expected. But the figure on the beach was not using a cane.

A shriek split the air, sounding from the floor above. The servants’ quarters.

After another scream, Sophia went out into the hall, where Mrs. Digby and Mrs. Royston appeared from their respective bedchambers, tying their dressing gowns closed.

“What the devil?” Mrs. Royston moved her sleeping cap back from where it had slipped down and covered one eye.